Chapter 357: 358. Chapter 354: Helping Me Is Helping Yourselves

358. Chapter 354: Helping Me Is Helping Yourselves

Because of the strike, work at the docks had come to a complete standstill, and many business representatives were frantic.

On one hand they were seeking out the dock management company for a solution; on the other they were actively scouring everywhere for temporary workers willing to load their ships at high pay.

Some people were also actively reaching out to the striking workers, hoping they could spare the time to load their cargo onto the ships, or unload the cargo already on board.

For some of the more specialized work — like operating large machinery to assist with loading and unloading — hiring temps simply wouldn't do; they had to find people with the proper expertise.

Moreover, the dock management company would never allow people who didn't know how to operate those large machines to do so — if something got damaged, the losses would be enormous!

If dropping to their knees before the striking gentlemen would get them back to their posts, the capitalists standing before the striking crowd would probably already be kneeling in droves by now!

Although most of the time it's the capitalists who devour others, now they had become the ones being devoured.

After all, commercial claims for damages are no joke — whether a big company or a small one, they may not necessarily be able to weather the related lawsuits.

If both sides of a trade are normal and long-term partners, the situation might be a little better — for instance, two companies that have worked together for many years would have signed contracts with a certain amount of wiggle room.

After all, the two sides are friends in a sense, and on the basis of mutual respect they can leave each other some leeway.

But some companies are different — they can hardly even be called companies.

There are plenty of firms operating internationally that live by "eating orders" — their main source of profit is the breach-of-contract penalties on those orders.

For example, they will sign a contract with relatively harsh terms for the supplier, demanding that the defect rate stay below a certain level and that delivery be made within a strictly tight timeframe.

Suppose it takes thirty days to manufacture the batch of goods and meet that acceptable defect rate — these people will then sign a contract with the supplier for delivery in thirty days, or even twenty-eight.

If the supplier can't complete the quality inspection and load the goods onto the ship within the specified time, they will sue that supplier for breach of contract and demand the penalty stipulated in the contract.

That penalty is usually quite high. To get the other party willing to sign and accept such an excessive penalty, they typically offer them a larger profit margin — using profit to lure them in!

If the supplier can complete the production on time, with quality and quantity guaranteed, and get the goods onto the ship —

Fine, then they lose this round. They offload the goods at the price they already have in hand, or even a little lower. For these companies, all they've lost is time — they may eat a small loss, but it's never much.

Or they simply vanish without a trace, forfeiting the deposit.

Those suppliers can't really chase after the order company's operators in some foreign country, hunting down a company that may not even exist to collect the remaining balance.

But if the supplier can't deliver on time, they immediately file for damages and sue — and from that single order they might make back one to two times the total order value, or even more!

Like the grape contract Lans signed with the Liji Group — he was willing to accept a higher offer, releasing the profit margin to the Liji Group, but the Liji Group had to agree to a five-times penalty for breach.

It's just that a super-profit conglomerate like the Liji Group has the ability and capital to welch on its debts, whereas most small and medium enterprises don't have that ability — once they're sued, they have to pay up.

Some even worse companies will even send people to sabotage the supplier's production site, making it impossible for them to deliver on time.

Most of the time the supplier can only grit their teeth and accept it, because the contract is crystal clear — failing to deliver within the stipulated time is a breach, and the penalty must be paid.

This kind of thing happens every day in Jin Gang City. Many people know about it, yet they still willingly accept these orders.

In fact, many small and medium enterprises know exactly what kind of orders these are, but because the order-placers — chasing higher penalties — leave the suppliers a very generous profit margin,

some companies even think it would be a good thing if the other side ran off, because they've already pocketed the deposit and produced the goods; selling those goods off at a low price still leaves them with a guaranteed profit.

Besides, having an order is always better than having no order at all.

They can't refuse such a high profit margin — even knowing the risk, they clench their teeth and brace themselves to gamble.

Now that the strike has begun at the docks, it means many small and medium enterprises will be dealt a heavy blow — some may even go bankrupt and collapse!

Those capitalists who used to lord it over the workers are starting to feel helpless too; some have even begun to sob uncontrollably!

But none of this can change the fact of the strike.

The workers have gathered together with hearts of stone, chanting slogans and waving placards — they won't go back to work until the dock management company agrees to a raise!

For a whole day the workers didn't give an inch, and some people began trying to shift the pressure onto the dock management company.

After all, the workers' side is a bit tough to deal with, whereas getting the dock management company to give them a raise seems less difficult.

Dave was one of the workers' representatives. He was already in his fifties and had worked at the docks for almost his entire life.

He had been working at the docks since he was seventeen, right up until now.

Although his position had been promoted, his pay hadn't risen by much — it was barely above the federal standard wage, at forty-five dollars and fifty cents.

For most workers this wage was already not low, but for him — having worked a lifetime to reach this wage — it was still too little.

In this strike, his personal demand was to get his pay raised to at least forty-seven dollars; his target was forty-eight.

He supported the strike because he had two sons — the elder was already married and was planning to have a child soon.

Whether or not his eldest son moved out of the house, this meant the family's expenses would noticeably increase over the coming period.

One or two dollars might not seem like much, but what he wanted wasn't just one or two dollars — it was for the dock management company to acknowledge and accept the principle of a pay raise.

Then, with a raise every six months, it wouldn't be long before his income broke fifty dollars, and in three to five years it might be over fifty-something — the financial pressure would ease considerably.

When he got home from the docks and had just pushed open the door, he saw three guys who looked like they weren't easy to deal with sitting on the old sofa in the living room.

He also saw his wife in the dining room, his two children, and his eldest son's wife.

"Who are you?" he hesitated, didn't lock the door, and walked straight in.

One of the men was playing with a dagger in his hand. He glanced at Dave. "Dave?"

Dave nodded. "That's me." He walked in front of his family, becoming a wall between those men and his family.

All three stood up. The young man who had been toying with the dagger slid it back into its sheath and walked up to Dave.

Dave raised both arms, shielding his family on one side while signaling the other side not to come any closer. He was a little nervous.

After all, these people didn't look like good sorts. As the man of the house, he was like a lion protecting his territory and his pride. "Stay away from us!"

The young man curled his lip, spread his hands and stopped. "You shouldn't have joined the strike, Dave."

"If you don't want to see us here again, you'd better be back at your post on time tomorrow morning and start working — instead of playing those boring strike games!"

"If you do that, I guarantee you and your family will never see us again."

"If you can't…" The young man smiled a little. "You see, we know where you live, and we've met your family."

"I know you don't want anyone to get hurt, right?"

Dave said nothing. The man was still all smiles. "You'd better think it over carefully tonight, and discuss it with your family."

"Really, there's no need to let things over a buck or two get so out of hand."

Dave was clearly furious. If he were only twenty right now, he would have spat right in this man's face, grabbed a cleaver, and made him get the hell out of his house!

But now, he was in his fifties, and right behind him was the greatest weakness of his life!

He didn't actually place much value on his feelings for his family — or rather, in normal times he would find his family annoying.

His wife was always nagging on and on, and it was all about trivial things — vegetables going up in price, beef going down — and he didn't like hearing any of it.

His two sons, apart from coming to him for money, rarely had any direct interaction with him.

It might have been a little better when they were small, but as they grew up and got their own social circles, that "all-powerful dad" gradually faded out of their lives.

They spent more time gathered with their own friends than with their family.

He didn't really like these people, and sometimes he would even think, how nice it would be if they all just disappeared.

But at this moment, he suddenly felt that long-absent sense of responsibility — he was the head of the household, he had to protect his family's safety, and that was his greatest weakness!

He looked at the man across from him, said nothing, didn't tell him to get lost, and didn't refuse outright — he just stayed silent.???? The young man knew he had achieved his goal. He raised both hands to signal he meant no harm. "Alright, I've said what I needed to say. I'm leaving now too."

"Dave, think it over carefully — is it worth it or not?"

"This time we can still stand here and talk nicely, but next time…" He gave a meaningful smile, then left.

The three of them swaggered off. Dave hurried over and shut the door. He turned back to look at his family, their faces full of worry, and for a moment didn't know what to say.

His wife looked at him, still visibly shaken. "What have you done?"

Actually, Dave hadn't done anything. He had told his family about the current situation at the docks — everyone was on strike, and he was one of the strike's supporters.

"Tomorrow…" his wife said hesitantly.

Dave sighed. "Let me think it over."

"How about you all go down to the countryside for a few days?"

Dave still didn't want to give up this chance — not just didn't want to give it up, he even less wanted to be a traitor.

Everyone was supporting the strike. If he went back to his post, he would become a traitor to the strike, and it would be very hard for him to keep working at the docks.

He was already a low-level supervisor — what would the people under him think of him?

It would be very hard for him to keep his footing at the docks in the future.

His two sons said nothing and went back to their rooms. His wife gripped his hand worriedly. "They're gangsters. We can't beat them."

Dave pressed his lips together. "I said I'll think about it."

Actually, the family that ran into this kind of situation wasn't only Dave's — many other people had also been harassed by the gangsters. Some decided on the spot to quit the strike, but others held firm.

Early the next morning, Dave tidied himself up and went outside the docks. He saw quite a few people.

The expressions on these people were all a little strange, as if they had something weighing on their minds.

Even though his exam scores in school never exceeded a C, at this moment he could figure out clearly what kind of situation these people were in.

"…Uh…" A man stepped forward — in his thirties, a crane operator.

His child had just started elementary school. He made forty-two dollars and fifty cents a month, a wage a notch above ordinary people.

After he spoke, everyone looked at him. He looked very embarrassed, but thinking about the fright his wife and child had received the night before, he gritted his teeth and finally chose to follow his heart.

His wages were already not low — there was no need to take on this risk for a buck and a half. "I'm quitting."

The moment he finished saying that, a big guy next to him suddenly walked over and grabbed him by the collar. "What the hell are you saying?"

The two were actually pretty good friends. His friend couldn't believe that someone would quit at a time like this!

The crane operator's face was full of awkwardness and embarrassment. He looked at the various glances those people cast at him, and finally decided to tell the truth.

If he still wanted to keep working at the docks, he had to tell the truth!

"Last night a few gang members came to my house. They threatened me and my family — if I didn't quit, they would take measures."

"My child is still young. I also want to keep striking, to stay with you all, but I… I have no choice!" Pain showed on his face. "I can't just sit by while they threaten my family, and I can't fight them either — they're gangsters…"

After hearing this, Johnny stepped forward. "Don't rush to make a decision. Let me make a call."

In the office, people kept coming and going. The conflict between the Imperial District and the Port District was also starting to heat up, and both sides had begun tentative exchanges of fire.

Just yesterday, several shootouts broke out within the Imperial District. Both sides took losses, but the losses were small.

"So far it's all been minor friction. Wolf's own people haven't shown up — the ones we've caught are all small local gangs that were just formed."

"They've merged into the Wolf Gang. Wolf told them whoever grabs a territory gets to keep it."

Lans took a drag of his cigarette and nodded. "I don't care if they're locals or not. They bared their fangs at us, so we deal with them."

"Any news on Wolf and that so-called Professor?"

Burton nodded. "They're in an arcade. It's surrounded by their people — probably seventy, eighty, even a hundred or more. If we go on the offensive, we might take some casualties."

Attacking someone else's heavily defended headquarters on their own turf was indeed not a smart decision. Lans scratched his head. "Do we know where all their bars are?"

"The best move right now is to force them not to stick together. As long as they don't stick together, we can dismantle them bit by bit."

Burton's face showed difficulty. "I'm still looking into it. We don't have many eyes over in the Port District."

What he said was true, and Lans didn't blame him. Just as he was about to assign some other tasks, the phone suddenly rang.

The room fell silent at once. He picked up the phone. "This is Lans."

"Mr. Lans?"

"It's Johnny. We've run into some trouble…"

Lans listened patiently as Johnny finished explaining what trouble he'd run into, and then suddenly felt… maybe there was still a way to turn this around.

"Bring some people over, to the company. I'll have a talk with them."

After hanging up the phone, Lans looked at them. "There might be a way."

Looking at the inquisitive gazes of the others, Lans explained, "The Wolf Gang people threatened the striking workers at the docks, trying to make them quit the strike."

"We don't know where the bars are in the Port District, but these workers definitely do!"

"They're locals born and raised in the harbor district — they know that area's environment better than we do."

This sentence invigorated everyone!

Everyone knew that taking the offensive against the game arcade wasn't the right choice, but if they couldn't keep expanding their gains, an undercurrent of anxiety was bound to creep in.

If they could seize the Wolf Gang's bar branch through the port district workers, the pressure would shift onto the Wolf Gang's side.

Choosing to send people to reinforce the bar's defenses would inevitably weaken the headquarters' defensive strength.

Choosing not to send people to reinforce the bar's defenses meant Lans and his people would uproot every single bar!

For gangs, wealth and finances are extremely important.

One of the reasons for the Camilla Gang's downfall was that their funds couldn't keep up.

Ammunition, death benefits, medical expenses.

Nowadays, a gunshot wound surgery costs a thousand or two thousand on the spot — that expense alone is a massive outlay.

Lans paid over twenty thousand for surgery fees just yesterday!

A gang war can't be sustained without several hundred thousand!

Half an hour later, Johnny arrived at the company with some people, and Lans received them in his office.

Dave was also there. Watching these young men who clearly didn't look like good people, he was a little nervous, and at the same time the way he looked at Johnny shifted slightly.

He knew Lans, and he knew Johnny's arm had been broken by Lans, but he had no idea Johnny could still bring these people to meet Lans!

The guy he thought he knew so well had suddenly become a stranger.

"…Johnny told me about what happened to you, and I feel both sympathy and anger over what you went through."

"The people threatening you are from the Wolf Gang, and it just so happens I have a grudge against them too. So helping me is the same as helping yourselves!"