Chapter 279: Opening for Business

At half past ten in the morning, when Margaret Wielenstein's car, the 'Norfolk Sanctity,' slowly drove out of the Wielenstein Estate, her brows were tightly furrowed.

"Randall, so you're saying that none of the nine stores opened by the Rising Sun Company have had any unusual incidents?"

"Yes, Mother."

Randall Wielenstein—also Margaret's eldest son—looked solemn and grave: "The entire city is very calm, and of course nothing unexpected happened at those Rising Sun Company stores."

"Do you know what's going on?"

Margaret's brow furrowed deeply: "The intelligence you provided me earlier said that the Iron Thorn's vengefulness was exceptionally strong. I know that this Red Robe priest of the Dragon Witch Cult is by no means a patient man."

"That's what I find strange too. I've had people monitoring their movements throughout the city, yet—"

Randall spread his hands: "Unfortunately, the intelligence network we control has so far found no trace of them. It's as if they've vanished from the face of the earth, completely disappeared from this world."

Margaret's expression was cold: "I told you, Randall, to maintain contact with them. Sometimes there's no need to be overly cautious. Does that old man really not guess? There are more people in the Wielenstein family connected to them than just you and me. Being too evasive will only arouse suspicion."

"Of course I've done that, but the Dragon Witch Cult people are highly wary of us. They think Antonio and Cressey Jakes were betrayed, and they don't want us to know their situation."

The young man named Randall gave a bitter laugh, then said thoughtfully: "But early this morning, there was a bit of trouble in East Atlanta. Some outlaws were fighting near the back of the Flame Club. The fight was very brief—locals only heard about a dozen gunshots—and the people quickly cleaned up, leaving no trace. I suspect the Iron Thorn's disappearance is related to this shooting, but I have no evidence to confirm it yet."

"You mean the Dragon Witch Cult people and the Iron Thorn have been eliminated?"

Margaret suddenly straightened her back: "Have you investigated the movements on all sides?"

"Since I have such suspicions, naturally I wouldn't overlook any possibility. But the current situation has me completely baffled—"

Randall said with confusion: "The old man's people haven't made any moves, nor has 'Nathan's Hand' Insurance Company. And neither the FBI, nor Homeland Security, nor the Cathedral of Light have shown any unusual activity—that much is certain. I think it could only be my grandfather's secret force he keeps in the shadows, or other enemies of the Dragon Witch Cult."

"It can't be Conshuri! He's held out this long; there's no reason for him to strike now. He might fool us, but he can't fool the Council of Elders."

Margaret fell into deep thought: "Continue investigating. Try to contact the Patriarch of the Dragon Witch Cult and confirm the Iron Thorn's fate. I know they have ways."

"Understood!" Randall nodded: "In fact, I was about to do that. But I think our primary focus right now should be on those Rising Sun Company stores."

Margaret turned to look at Randall: "Rising Sun Company stores? Are their sales very large?"

"Extremely large! The commercial investigation firm we hired gave me a figure beyond my imagination."

Randall placed a document in Margaret's hand with a grave expression. She opened it and found twenty-seven photos taken from nine different stores at different times, each showing a sea of people, shoulder to shoulder.

Outside the stores, there was even a queue of over a hundred people.

Margaret then looked at an A4 sheet behind the photos, which had a table listing statistics and projections for the nine stores. The data in the first row made her expression extremely interesting.

"Projected sales for one store reach two million four hundred thousand shields? Randall, are you joking with me?"

"Mother, that's from Drew & Company, Atlanta's most reputable commercial investigation firm. According to them, this is the most conservative figure."

Randall explained: "Considering word-of-mouth and the clustering effect, they estimate the upper limit of sales could reach three million two hundred thousand shields, serving between eight hundred and twelve hundred customers. This is because they have a severe shortage of sales staff—even with some temporary college students, there are only about forty people, unable to serve more customers. But this creates a scarcity effect, and the sales boom will continue for the next few days until their promotion ends."

"Promotion?"

"Look at the last page—it's a flyer the Rising Sun Company distributed on the streets."

Randall pointed to the back of the folder: "They're running a promotion: within the first fifteen days of opening, all Japanese and German electrical appliances sold in the stores are discounted by ten percent. Then, after spending 1,500 shields, customers get a small electric grill as a gift; after 3,000 shields, they get a rice cooker or an oven."

"Ten percent off? And gifts? Can they make money?"

"Yes. They get the goods from foreign manufacturers at very low prices. Also, I suspect they have agreements with the manufacturers for a two to four percent rebate once sales reach a certain figure. Those small electric grills aren't worth much anyway, and the gifts are outdated, slow-moving models. After deducting labor and other costs, their net profit should still be five to seven points."

Margaret's face darkened, and she directly instructed the driver: "Don't go to the company first. Do you know where the Rising Sun Company stores are? Take me to the nearest one."

About fifteen minutes later, their 'Norfolk Sanctity' slowly drove along Dennis Avenue in the Upper South District of Atlanta.

The Rising Sun Electric Retail Dennis Avenue store was on their right. Margaret looked out the window and saw a long queue in front of the spacious, grand storefront. Many people were watching, and some pretty women in uniforms were distributing flyers to passersby.

"What a coincidence—that's Jennifer."

Randall glanced in a certain direction: "It seems she still cares about her younger brother."

Margaret also looked that way, then indifferently withdrew her gaze: "I want to know, can we stop him?"

"It's very difficult, Mother. The strength he has now is already formidable, enough to compete with other electrical appliance retailers. He's also well-funded. The lucky bracelets from Nathan's Sports Group are selling like hotcakes, and Andre has a large share of the profits. So ten days ago, the Rising Sun Company borrowed forty million shields from Georgia Lehman Bank at nine percent annual interest. They're conquering the entire Atlanta area. And now, the hot sales at these stores will bring them a massive cash flow."

Randall said thoughtfully: "But I can try to see if I can draw other forces into the game. Also, my cousin seems to have too long a vision. Instead of continuing to lease, he's directly buying the ownership of those large storefronts. He's already bought seven, spending twenty-three million shields. That might be our opportunity. I think if he plans to expand at the fastest pace, the Rising Sun Company's financial pressure will be extremely severe—"