Chapter 391 Bestseller

Early morning, Red Umbrella Bookstore on Wick Street, Atlanta.

"Excuse me, do you have 'Raging War天王'? The one by Lucky Andre."

"No."

"Shit, what kind of crappy bookstore is this?"

"Hey, boy! Give me a copy of 'Raging War天王', will you?"

"Sorry, we don't have that comic here."

"Huh, no wonder it's so dead here. Guess I'll have to queue up, damn, there are already hundreds waiting over there."

At this moment, Kadir, the owner of Red Umbrella Bookstore, was ashen-faced. His clerk, Lori, couldn't help glancing at him sideways.

"Boss, the line at Wind Chime Bookstore has already stretched to the end of the alley. They got a full two hundred copies today, but I doubt they'll last long—"

"I know, I know!"

Kadir snorted, his gaze shifting: "It's nothing, just a hot comic, barely two thousand gold shields in turnover."

"The problem is, our sales have dropped thirty percent in the last two days."

Lori lowered his head, dusting nonexistent dust off the shelves with a feather duster: "Those customers have no patience. As soon as they hear they can't get 'Raging War天王', they won't even browse the store."

Kadir's breathing began to grow heavy.

"And that's not all, Boss."

This was another young female clerk: "They're also doing bundling. You have to buy other stuff from their store to get the comic."

"Shit!"

Kadir cursed: "That's against the rules, isn't it? Does Rising Sun Publishing allow that?"

The female clerk shrugged: "Word is they got a stern warning from the publisher, and it was even on the TV news last night, didn't you see? But they still do it, just not as blatantly. They only bundle stationery and handicrafts they sell. Can't help it—there are only about three hundred stores in Atlanta selling 'Raging War天王'."

"But there must be at least two thousand bookstores in Atlanta, plus many newsstands—"

Kadir grumbled discontentedly: "Can't they stock other stores? I guarantee integrity, fair to all ages."

"But Boss, we have an agreement with Ferguson Media Group."

"Damn the agreement!"

Kadir walked to the counter and picked up the phone: "What's the number for Rising Sun Publishing? The sales manager is called Delary, right?"

"It's in the second drawer under the desk."

Clerk Lori was startled: "You're going to order from Rising Sun Publishing now? But Boss, it's only two thousand gold shields in turnover."

"Idiot, you think I can't do math? Over a few days it'll be more than two thousand, and this comic isn't just one volume."

Kadir's lips twitched as he glanced at the bottom drawer: "Ferguson's profit margins are generous, plus sales commissions. But their newspapers and magazines can't even get to the store now."

"So, store manager, you know what to say?"

"What to say? Of course I do. It's either one or the other this time."

But the phone was busy several times, and it wasn't until around three in the afternoon that he got through.

"Store Manager Kadir? Red Umbrella Bookstore?"

The voice on the other end was distinctly aloof: "Mr. Store Manager, our printing plant is running at full capacity. I'm afraid we can't allocate more stock to you."

"Damn it! Delary, cut the crap. I know you have stock. We'll end our cooperation with Ferguson Media Group, OK?"

"Sorry, I don't understand what you mean?"

"I mean, we'll move all Ferguson Media's publications to the corner of the store."

"Store Manager Kadir, we don't condone actions that harm and hurt fellow businesses."

The sales manager named Delary added a noticeable warmth to his tone: "But since you're so sincere, I can allocate thirty copies for you. However, beforehand, one of our sales reps will visit your store to check the environment, OK?"

"And what if we stop selling Ferguson Media's publications altogether?"

Store Manager Kadir's eyes glinted: "We'll also put the Atlanta Laborer Daily and the Georgia State Post on the front row."

"And the Atlanta Daily Telegraph."

The voice on the phone now held approval: "One hundred copies, arriving at your store by five a.m. tomorrow. That's the maximum I can authorize within my power. If you want more, you'll have to talk to my boss. Tell you what, I'll throw in some posters of Andre—you know, they've been selling well lately, the girls love them. OK, it's settled."

"Why does it have to be tomorrow morning? Can't it be this afternoon?"

Store Manager Kadir grumbled as he hung up, then glanced at his clerk Lori: "Notify Ferguson Media—either they take their stuff back, or we'll put it in storage. Then put up an announcement: tomorrow at 9 a.m., this store will have three hundred copies of 'Raging War天王' and two hundred Andre posters for sale. Lori, should we do bundling too?"

"Wow, boss, you don't hate Lucky Andre anymore?"

"Still hate him, absolutely despise him."

Store Manager Kadir bared his teeth: "So I've decided to make back all the money I've lost on him."

...

In a conference room on the thirty-second floor of the Ferguson News Building, the atmosphere was bleak. Everyone present had grim faces and low spirits.

"Our cable room still can't be fixed? What did Noah Company say? Twelve days? And the repair cost is 15 million gold shields? Tell them to go eat shit! Twelve days from now, who'll still be watching our TV station? Tell them 15 million is fine, but the time must be shortened to ten days. Put that in the contract."

"Adler, negotiate with a few TV stations in Atlanta as soon as possible, see if we can borrow their equipment. Accept any price, as long as it gets us through these ten days."

"Reed, how's the loan negotiation with Georgia Citizens Bank going? They refused? Why? Ferguson Media's repayment ability is beyond doubt!"

"Useless! All useless! How did I end up with a bunch of idiots?"

"Tell Lasha, we'll pay him what we owe, but not now. Ask him if he still wants to cooperate with our TV station. If he wants his show on Ferguson Cable TV, he'd better shut up."

Mandeville Ferguson sat at the head of the table, like an out-of-control tyrant, venting his fury freely on his subordinates.

Just then, a knock came at the conference room door, and a female employee entered, pale-faced, clutching a folder.

Mandeville Ferguson glanced sideways at her: "Who are you? From sales? Don't you know we're in a meeting?"

"Chairman, there's a new development. I think I must report to you."

The female employee was clearly terrified: "In the hour and a half you've been in this meeting, another 124 bookstores have asked us to take back all our consigned publications."

Mandeville Ferguson's demeanor turned even colder, but this time he didn't shout. Instead, he frowned deeply: "Again because of 'Raging War天王'? Still selling like hotcakes?"

"Yes, Chairman."

The sales director, who was also at the meeting, looked especially bitter: "According to our information, the 90,000 copies Rising Sun Publishing released in Atlanta sold out by 9:25 a.m., and most bookstores don't even open until 9. Now all the major TV stations and media are flooded with discussions about 'Raging War天王' and Andre. This could be a phenomenon—no, a masterpiece-level comic. It's become the most powerful weapon in Rising Sun Publishing's hands."