Ethan was a thinker, but what unfolded before his eyes now was something he genuinely hadn't anticipated. He suddenly recalled a phrase Marcus Whitfield often used.
Poverty limits your imagination!
Ethan had to admit, there was some truth to it.
Standing before the marble screen inscribed with Unrivaled Splendor, Serena extended her slender hand to Ethan.
"Ethan, from now on, this will be our base of operations. I look forward to working with you."
Seeing the smile on Serena's face, Ethan took her hand.
Her fingers lightly scratched his palm. "Come on, let me show you around. Or at least... give you an idea of our potential profits."
Serena started the tour with the rows of machines.
"Based on the business at Zhao's place, each machine averages a daily profit of around fourteen hundred."
"We have four hundred such machines. Furthermore, this is The Boss's territory. Our clientele base is larger than Zhao's."
"As for these tables," she gestured, "it's about the house edge. For Baccarat, for instance, we take a five percent commission on every hand. A famous Macau casino king once said in an interview, 'Running a casino is like printing money. We print it every day. It's impossible to be poor.'"
"Of course, there are also the extended hotel services, drinks, and so on. Those aren't our direct concern. Our main responsibilities are maintaining the casino's operations, ensuring its stability, and... making money."
"Well said. Hahaha."
A laugh echoed through the hall.
Serena immediately looked towards the source and whispered to Ethan, "That's The Boss."
Two figures emerged from behind the screen.
One Ethan recognized: Mr. Kun.
The other man appeared to be in his fifties, but the streaks of white at his temples suggested he was likely in his sixties. He was slightly portly and had a jovial, smiling demeanor. This was The Boss Serena referred to.
"Ethan, hahaha." The Boss walked forward briskly and clapped Ethan on the shoulder. "Took the trophy from Jack Zhao. Impressive. A promising young man. I heard your mother just had surgery. How is she doing?"
Ethan nodded. "Thank you for your concern, sir. The doctors say she's recovering well."
"Good, good." The Boss gave Ethan's shoulder another squeeze. "The last time I saw your mother was sixteen, seventeen years ago. I even held you as a baby, but you certainly wouldn't remember that."
"Of course he wouldn't," Mr. Kun chimed in. "The little guy even peed on you back then."
"Yes, yes," The Boss nodded repeatedly. "Who would have thought we'd meet again under these circumstances. Ethan, I have high hopes for you. Do well here. Succeed with the casino, and there will be bigger ventures for you in the future!"
"Dad! Boss!"
The sound of footsteps approached. A group of five people walked in. The leader was a man in his late twenties. He had his arm around a seductively dressed woman, followed by three lackeys.
"Tyler's here." The Boss smiled, his eyes narrowing into friendly slits.
Serena's beautiful eyes flashed with disgust at the sight of the man. "Tyler, what are you doing here?"
"See, Dad?" Tyler He said, pulling out a chair at a table and sitting down casually. "Some people think they've accomplished one big thing and now dare to talk to me like that."
The voluptuous woman stood obediently behind him, massaging his shoulders and neck.
Tyler picked up a practice chip from the table, fiddling with it. "Dad, Boss, a casino operation is no small matter. Are you really planning to hand it over to a woman?"
The Boss walked over, still smiling. "Uncle Kun, this is your family matter. I won't interfere."
Mr. Kun also pulled out a chair and sat down. "Tyler, this operation isn't just your sister's responsibility. Ethan is also involved."
"Him?" Tyler shot Ethan a disdainful glance. "Michael Langford's bastard? A high school senior?"
Serena was displeased. "Tyler, don't forget! Ethan is the one who retrieved the trophy from Lansway!"
"Trophy?" Tyler's sneer deepened. "My father and The Boss each have no fewer than ten men capable of taking a trophy from Zhao. What does taking a trophy prove? That he can fight? That he got lucky?"
"If Ethan wanted a job as an enforcer under me, I'd admit he's skilled material. But running a casino? He's far from qualified!"
"Management isn't about being tough or fighting. Look at the people in Zhao's collections room. Was Zhao's goal to take body parts from them? No! Zhao's goal was to get money!"
"We're in business. Money is what matters most!"
"And you two... you won't be able to extract that money. Understand?"
Serena took a step forward. "And you're so sure we can't get the money, but you can?"
Tyler smiled, specifically glancing at his father and The Boss, noting their attention was on him. He puffed out his chest confidently. "Of course! I've always been the one responsible for collecting debts for the family's several loan companies. If I were in charge of the casino, I could certainly extract the money from the collections room!"
Seeing his father and The Boss still watching him, he decided to show off further. "Let me give you a simple example. There was this guy who owed us over six hundred thousand. Defaulted for over a year. We went to his door, splashed paint, even tied him up, used all sorts of methods. But he still wouldn't pay. Know what we did in the end? We set his house on fire! Then we arranged for someone to 'rescue' him. His wife and kid were nearly scared to death. Now he's obediently scrambling to pay us back."
Tyler wore a look of supreme arrogance, very confident in his debt-collection tactics.
Just then, an ill-timed chuckle broke the silence.
Tyler immediately turned his glare towards Ethan, who was covering his mouth, trying to suppress a laugh. "What? You find this funny?"
Ethan thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, I find it a bit amusing, actually."
Feeling his pride wounded, Tyler demanded, "Well then, why don't you enlighten us? What, precisely, is so funny?"
Ethan shrugged. "You said your goal was to get the money, right? But you burned his house down. How is he supposed to pay you back then? There are clearly many other methods. You just happened to pick the dumbest one. Judging by that, you probably couldn't get the money out of the collections room either."
Tyler's face flushed red and then paled. He snorted coldly. "What do you know! With people like that, torture is useless! You have to make them and their families feel genuine fear!"
"Right," Ethan first conceded with a nod, then his tone shifted. "It's just... there are many ways to make a family afraid. Since you brought up fire, let's stick with that. Setting a house on fire for intimidation is less effective than setting a person on fire."
"Of course, it requires some careful control. The goal is to terrify, not to kill. Direct exposure to flame at a thousand degrees Celsius would kill a person in about eighteen seconds."
"But cotton, when it burns, only reaches about four hundred degrees. It's November now. If you were to ignite someone's cotton jacket, it could burn for a full six minutes without being fatal. I imagine a person on fire leaves a much deeper, more terrifying impression and carries more deterrence than a burning house. Plus, the house remains intact, which can still be used to settle the debt."