I bought a prison in the United States.

"So, are you curious about my office?"

Hollis Underwood stood up from behind his desk.

Today he was wearing a charcoal gray wool vest and a narrow dark blue tie around his shirt collar.

His sixties did not leave traces of aging on his face, but rather a sense of competence.

"Mr. Underwood has very unique taste."

Lin Ge returned a polite smile.

"Hehe, Mr. Chen, please have a seat."

Underwood gestured toward the sofa.

Lingo sat down. The sofa cushions were rather hard, and the angle of the backrest forced his upper body to remain upright.

He also placed a similar chair in his prison office, except that it was to prevent himself from collapsing after working for a long time.

It seems Underwood has the same habit.

"Last time at the Chamber of Commerce lecture, you talked about a technical solution for tapping thin plates, and I listened for a while."

Underwood returned to his chair, took a cigar from the cigar box on the table, and trimmed the end with a silver cigar cutter.

"I thought this young man was interesting, but I didn't take him too seriously."

"Every year, a few young people emerge in Tulsa who think they can change the business world, but they rarely last until the second year. Such people are not worth paying attention to or investing in."

He struck a match, and the cigar tip spun gently in the flame until it was evenly lit.

The first puff of smoke rose slowly in the morning light, carrying the scent of cedar and leather.

"However, later I had someone check your background. Please don't mind it; it was just out of curiosity."

"When I learned that you bought a prison at an auction with a high-interest loan and turned it into a small factory within a month, I knew this young man was quite capable."

"So I gave you a chance. I'm very interested in your methods of running prisons. I heard you also signed the state's first pilot agreement for a points-based labor management system with the state corrections department?"

"Yes, Mr. Underwood."

Lin Ge did not choose to remain humble at this point, especially now that the other party was beginning to have high hopes for him.

This is a great opportunity to strengthen the relationship.

Lin Ge took a brown paper envelope from the inside pocket of his suit and placed it on the coffee table.

"I think we should start with the information that you care about most."

Underwood picked up the envelope and pulled out the documents inside.

It was an industry analysis report printed on ordinary paper, about five pages long, with a high information density on each page.

The first page describes the current state of the private prison industry in Oklahoma.

Currently, four of the twelve county-level correctional centers in the prefecture have been converted into private entities, and another is undergoing the bidding process.

All four state prisons were operating beyond capacity, with the Lawton Correctional Center, which had the highest overcrowding rate, reaching 1.8 times its designed capacity.

These figures are public information; anyone can find them in the state corrections department's annual report.

But things started to change on the second page.

Ringo used a chart to show the growth curve of Oklahoma's prison population over the past eight years, alongside the U.S. Department of Justice's projections for the national prison population over the next ten years.

The two curves almost overlapped until the mid-1980s, but began to diverge from 1985 onwards.

One continued to climb, while the other suddenly rose.

Ringo explained the reason for the curve to Mr. Underwood:

"The sentencing reform bill was officially signed on the 12th of this month, and soon the federal prison population will overflow into the state system."

The third page is a table listing the major known players in Oklahoma's private prison industry.

CCA just secured its first federal contract in Texas and has not yet entered the Oklahoma market.

Wokenhut Correctional Services is also expanding in Florida and has no current interest in the state.

In other words, the private prison market in Oklahoma is still a blue ocean at this moment.

Pages four and five contain Ringo's financial projections for his prison over the next three years, without a single exaggerated word.

It took Underwood about ten minutes to read through the five pages, and he didn't ask Ringo any questions during the process.

But his expression grew increasingly serious and solemn as he read.

At one point, Lin Ge seemed to see a glimmer of light, as if he had discovered some unexpected business opportunity.

"I see. That's how private prisons operate. It's really interesting how they find business opportunities amidst risks. You're a lot like the group of people I met when I was young."

Underwood put the documents back on the coffee table, leaned back in his chair, and said with a touch of emotion.

The emotional label above his head was originally an almost impenetrable gray-white.

In established families, the gap between surface emotions and deep thinking is often much larger than in ordinary people.

However, in Lin Ge's eyes now, that opaque grayish-white layer is gradually fading, revealing a bright color underneath.

"But Mr. Chen, I must point out the logical flaws in your report."

Underwood's tone was calm, but not dismissive:

"You're assuming the state corrections department will prioritize your bed rather than the CCA or the new facilities that Waukeenhut has since moved to Oklahoma."

What is your basis for this claim?

"Of course, it's the cost."

Ringo's answer was without the slightest hesitation:

"My daily cost per bed is 40% lower than that of state prisons, and it won't increase in the short term."

"If CCA wants to enter Oklahoma, it must first invest capital in building new facilities."

"And I already have 144 beds available and a security system that is being upgraded."

"It would take them at least eighteen months to build a prison from scratch, but I could get the bed occupancy rate up to 90% before that."

"By the time they came knocking on the door, I had already secured the most stable pool of prisoners in the area."

Underwood picked up his coffee cup, took a sip, and smiled slightly.

"Using low prices to seize the market and then making money next year—who would have thought this tactic would one day be used to run a prison..."

"Do you think Deputy Director Boone will always be on your side?"

Lin Ge's tone was very calm:

"Deputy Commissioner Boone should be more concerned with solving the prison overcrowding problem right now. He doesn't need to side with me, and he doesn't have many other options to choose from."

"As long as I can absorb his excess prisoners and keep things from getting out of the way of the state auditors, he's my ally."

"Haha, you're right. Allies aren't bound by friendship, they're bound by shared interests."

Underwood placed the cigar on the edge of the ashtray and crossed his hands on the table.

"When my father started his oil company in 1925, Tulsa had fewer than 50,000 people, and the streets were full of speculators with drilling contracts looking for investors."

"He sells pumping units and drill pipes to people who are obsessed with oil, but the old man never touches a single oil well."