RPAGF Chapter 65 Even Waste Has a Use
Chapter 65 Even Waste Has a Use
Li Wei's judgment was quickly verified, not in terms of intelligence, but in terms of dock management.
On the fifth day after the founding of the "Boston Dockside Mutual Aid Association", the first large-scale brawl since its establishment broke out in front of the warehouse of the North Dockside.
On one side were the newly joined Irish compatriots under Finn's command, and on the other side were the existing English and Scottish workers on the docks.
The cause was simple: a sugar ship from Jamaica arrived at the port, and Finn's men took over the unloading work, leaving no room for anyone else.
"You damned potato bastards! Go back to your famine-stricken Ireland!" roared a tall Scottish worker in heavily accented English, brandishing a paddle.
"(Common plant) You motherfucking English bastard! We're the ones who call the shots on this dock now!" A freckled Irish youth retorted defiantly, clutching an iron hook tightly in his hand.
The verbal conflict quickly escalated into a physical fight, and soon, hundreds of people were grappling with each other.
When Finn received the news and arrived angrily with his men, the situation was already out of control.
Like an enraged bull, he roared and charged into the crowd, forcefully separating the people on both sides.
But his single eye swept across the entire arena and finally landed on his fellow Irishman.
"Stop it, you fucking idiots!" He grabbed the Scottish worker by the collar and lifted him up. "Anyone who lays a hand on my brother, I'll throw him into the sea to feed the fish!"
The worker's legs went weak with fear, but he still stubbornly insisted, "Boss Finn, we respect the Mutual Aid Society and Mr. Li, but we don't respect you Irishmen! This dock doesn't belong to you!"
Finn's biased suppression instantly ignited the anger of all non-Irish workers.
Although they feared Finn's ferocity, they confronted him with hostility.
A larger uprising is on the verge of breaking out.
Fortunately, Seamus's men arrived in time and formed a human wall with wooden shields, which barely separated the two groups.
Looking at those resentful faces, Finn felt a sense of powerlessness for the first time.
He can subdue his opponents with his fists, but he cannot win people's hearts with his fists.
This newly established "mutual aid association" is like a pile of stones held together with inferior mud and water; it is in danger of falling apart at the slightest disturbance.
That evening, after listening to Finn and Seamus's reports, Levi calmly wrote a few words on a blank sheet of paper: Irish, English, Scots, the lower class, contradictions.
He had anticipated this step.
A purely Irish-dominated violent organization can never truly control a dockland comprised of multiple ethnic groups.
What's more, the Easterners who share the same blood as us haven't arrived yet!
"Finn, you are an excellent warrior, but not a qualified manager, and you cannot be a leader for everyone."
Finn lowered his head and admitted gruffly, "Sir, I messed up."
"No, you're just doing what you're good at." Levi shook his head. "Now, we need someone who isn't good at anything to be our leader."
"No, I should say he's someone who's only good at baking bread!"
He pulled a piece of paper from a stack of documents; it had the address of Boyle's Bakery on it.
"We need a symbol, a sign. A cowardly, greedy person, someone everyone knows is a puppet, yet no one can easily touch him. Someone who can make all factions think, 'He's more incompetent than me, so I can accept him as the leader.'"
Li Wei pushed the paper to the center of the table.
"We need a chairman, Finn. A bread maker chairman."
……
Late at night, the Boyle couple's bedroom light was still on.
Martha was carefully calculating the month's accounts, while Mr. Boyle sat restlessly beside her, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead under the oil lamp.
"Darling, do you think... that Mr. Lee, will he forget about us?" Mr. Boyle nervously wrung his hands. "He's the new master of the entire Boston underworld now, and we little people..."
A series of urgent knocks on the door interrupted him.
The couple were startled.
Mr. Boyle peeked through the crack in the door and his legs immediately went weak.
Standing outside the door was the "Orientalist" he had mentioned, Li Wei.
Mr. Boyle opened the door with trembling hands, almost kneeling down on the spot.
"Mr. Li... Mr. Li, what brings you here?"
Li Wei ignored him and walked straight into the house, his gaze quickly passing over the graceful woman who remained calm in his presence.
"Mr. Boyle, Mrs. Martha, I'm very sorry to bother you so late at night." Levi's tone was polite, but it carried an aura that left no room for refusal.
The host and guests took their seats.
Boyle sat stiffly in the chair, constantly wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.
"My God... Mr. Li, you found out? The money for last month's Oriental Refreshing Tea, I... I'll definitely..."
"I don't need that money, Mr. Boyle. Besides, you're just borrowing it."
"I've come to invite Mr. Boyle to take up an important position," Levi said with a smile, but his words almost made Boyle's soul fly away.
"I hope you can become the first president of the Boston Dock Mutual Aid Association."
"No, no, no, no!"
Boyle waved his hands frantically, sweat streaming down his fat face. "Mr. Li, please spare me! I'm just a baker, I just want to earn some money... I don't even know the way around the docks!"
He was so scared he almost cried.
Letting him be the leader of those dockworkers is less satisfying than just stabbing him.
Just then, Martha stepped forward.
"Mr. Li, what are the benefits and dangers of this 'chairman' position?"
For the first time, Li Wei's gaze truly fell upon this seemingly ordinary housewife.
He discovered that in this woman's eyes, there was not the pure fear that her husband possessed, but rather a light mixed with vigilance, curiosity, and ambition.
"The benefits are obvious. The president doesn't need to handle any specific matters; those are handled by Finn and Seamus. But as the nominal leader, you can take one percent of the 'Mutual Aid Association's' monthly revenue as a 'management fee'."
"Based on our calculations from yesterday, this amount of money is roughly thirty times your bakery's monthly profit."
He paused, letting the number ferment in the Boyles' minds.
"Furthermore, Boyle Bakery will become the sole designated bread supplier for the 'Mutual Aid Association' and all my properties. The exclusive sales channels for the Oriental Refreshing Tea and instant energy tea bags that I promised you will remain unchanged!"
The enormous profits acted like a red-hot branding iron, instantly melting away Boyle's fear.
He stopped trembling, and a greedy light began to gleam in his eyes.
Martha, however, remained calm. She pressed further, "What if it's that dangerous? What if the Governor's Mansion decides to settle scores, or other gangs come seeking revenge? What will happen to us...?"
"As president, Boyle's safety will be the responsibility of all 1,100 members of the 'Mutual Aid Association.' Any threat to the president is a threat to the livelihoods of all members. No one will risk their own bread."
Levi paused, his gaze passing over Boyle and landing on Martha's face.
"More importantly, the safest chairman is one that everyone knows is a puppet. Because everyone knows that the real trouble never lies with him."