My American magical life
Chapter 947 - 947 77 A cost of 50 million is too low first make it 406 million

947: Chapter 77: A cost of 50 million is too low, first make it 406 million.

947: Chapter 77: A cost of 50 million is too low, first make it 406 million.

Cheng Daqi truly wasn’t trying to make things hard for Crusoe; this was a necessary step to ensure there were no issues.

The characteristic laxity of Americans meant that any project could be delayed for years, and Daqi couldn’t afford that risk.

Besides, even among allies, there are levels of closeness.

Compared to Lisa, whom Cheng Daqi trusted the most, Crusoe had yet to prove himself to Daqi.

If Daqi weren’t an idiot, he’d have to be cautious.

The lesson from Niusen hadn’t been forgotten yet!

Niusen: You scammed me and now use me as a cautionary tale for risk management.

Are you even human?

“Chan, this kind of thing is always outsourced in design; our team only takes over at the construction phase.

Of course, I’m very familiar with the design companies, given my nearly thirty years of experience in the field.

When it comes to actual construction, Hua Country’s workers are the most obedient.

There shouldn’t be too many issues.”

Old Crusoe understood that Cheng Daqi wasn’t familiar with the real estate industry.

Real estate projects often had very long cycles, and most companies wouldn’t have their in-house design teams—they’d outsource instead.

Cheng Daqi nodded knowingly and replied with a smile,

“Alright, if that’s the case, I think I get how to push forward.

Mr.

Crusoe, my thought is that we start financing this project from the early planning stages.

Private prisons, after all, are a special industry.

Without some special strategies, it’s hard to do them well.

Fifty million in costs is too low.

Make it four hundred million instead, and I’ll take this four-hundred-million-dollar demand to find the financing.”

“Fifty million in costs is too low.

First, make it four hundred million.”

What, did the capitalists suddenly grow a conscience and want prisoners to live in spacious cells?

Don’t be ridiculous.

They’re prisoners.

As long as they’re not locked in dog cages, they should be grateful to modern institutions.

Those who didn’t understand might be confused about what Cheng Daqi was up to.

Crusoe, however, understood perfectly.

His eyes lit up, and he nodded with admiration.

“Chan, you’re brilliant.

Hahaha.”

This was a classic case of leveraging nothing to secure money—money from rather unusual sources at that—increasing the odds of the project’s success.

And the four-hundred-million-dollar cap meant that regardless of whether the project succeeded or failed, once the money was secured, even paying interest wouldn’t result in too much of a loss.

Daqi might not understand how real estate companies design buildings, but he certainly understood how they fundraise.

If the plan went smoothly enough, Cheng Daqi could even cash out before the foundations were laid—of course, “could” didn’t mean “would.” Daqi wasn’t the kind to focus only on chump change.

“Regarding the financing, Mr.

Crusoe, I’ll need your help since you are the industry expert.

For this four-hundred-million-dollar cap, we can structure a special profit-sharing agreement.

If the project succeeds, the four hundred million will genuinely be spent on constructing the building.

Of course, we’ll split the profits 70-30… What do you think of the split?”

The speed at which the two aligned their interests left Domo stunned, and Old Crusoe’s face was glowing with satisfaction.

He waved his hand repeatedly, exclaiming loudly,

“Satisfied, very satisfied!”

Cheng Daqi smiled, though his eyes gleamed with calculation.

Seventy-thirty—naturally, Daqi would take the seventy.

Old Crusoe understood this too; the share wasn’t particularly high, yet he agreed so readily.

What Cheng Daqi was thinking was that Old Crusoe might truly be someone who understood how to get things done, perhaps a candidate for deeper collaboration.

In truth, Cheng Daqi had always been the type who didn’t pay excessive attention to how much money he could carve out from a single deal.

He was more concerned about his overall power and influence.

Giving Crusoe a smaller share was actually a test.

If Crusoe wasn’t satisfied, he could always revise it to fifty-fifty.

As it turned out, this test worked well enough—for now.

However, other matters would have to wait until this project was completed.

Collaboration always progresses one step at a time.

“With West State, Crusoe Real Estate, and the Private Prison Project Company as major shareholders, we form the financing vehicle.

Both of us can identify key members for the fundraising effort.

The financing targets are, of course, those who control private prison approvals—government officials and legislators.

I won’t elaborate on the specific methods of financing; I’m sure you understand.

But our costs can’t be too high.

I’ll cap it at two percent, and that must be reflected in the agreement.

If the project fails, we offer two-percent excess interest.

If it succeeds, everyone becomes a shareholder and earns regular dividends in the future.”

After Cheng Daqi finished speaking, the jovial expression on the chubby young master’s face froze.

Domo had finally understood what Cheng Daqi and Old Crusoe were planning.

He realized that American capitalists were truly ruthless.

You provide nothing but still want to collect four hundred million at two-percent “excess interest” while simultaneously scheming to use government funding through private prisons?

The sheer darkness of it was soul-crushing!

At this moment, Old Crusoe waved his hand grandly and said,

“Chan, two percent is too high.

Company bond rates are generally only zero-point-five to one percent above market rates.”

Old Crusoe suddenly paused, his face taking on a cryptic expression.

“Moreover, if you give them such high interest compensation for failure, they might not be motivated to follow through.

After all, if they gain either way, why bother working hard?

Even if the private prison is operational, who’s to say it’ll always generate dividends?

What if it loses money?”

Cheng Daqi was slightly taken aback.

Because Old Crusoe’s logic wasn’t entirely unreasonable either.

Cheng Daqi had thought relatively optimistically about the participants.

He assumed they’d all be incentivized to make the private prison operational and reap dividends for the long term.

“Then, what do you suggest?”

Old Crusoe’s lips curved, and Domo vividly felt like he was gazing at a white man with the soul of a ruthless hustler.

“Just give them half a percent.

Take it or leave it.

We’ve already been generous enough by offering excess interest if the project fails.

Everyone involved must understand that only by making the project successful and sustainable will they truly benefit long-term.

Only then will they work diligently to help us navigate the bureaucratic hurdles!”

How long have you been a capitalist?

I’ve been one for decades.

Generations!

Cheng Daqi took a deep breath and solemnly said,

“Mr.

Crusoe, having an industry veteran like you refine my plan is my good fortune.

I’m sure our collaboration will be very rewarding!”

Old Crusoe laughed heartily and started discussing with Cheng Daqi a leader from another faction in their network.

“Hahaha, Chan, I should be the one thanking you!

By the way, I heard Wolf is heading to the Republican Party’s national…”

Glancing between his father and his friend,

Even though it was afternoon, with warm and radiant sunlight, Domo inexplicably felt a chill.

Is this the dark and ruthless America?