I bought a prison in the United States.

Lin Ge hung up the phone and wrote down a few numbers in his notebook.

The equipment problem has been resolved.

$1700 a month for two stamping machines, one roller machine, one spray painting machine, and ten sewing machines.

The total rent for three months is $5100.

The dollar checks I received today are barely enough to cover my expenses.

But in the coming weeks, he will need to purchase steel and other raw materials, which is where the real money will be spent.

Right now, there's a warehouse in Winston that's been burned down.

Whether it's taking advantage of someone's misfortune or seizing a market opportunity, it doesn't matter.

In America, business is business.

……

At 3 p.m., Ringo drove to the old industrial park in the eastern part of Tulsa.

The old industrial park is located on the east side of the city, near the Arkansas River.

This area was once the heart of Tulsa's manufacturing industry, with dozens of factories and warehouses of all sizes built during the oil boom.

Currently, about one-third of them are empty.

The windows were boarded up, the parking lot was overgrown with weeds, and the cement edges of the loading and unloading platform were pitted and uneven from wind and rain erosion.

Most of the factories and warehouses that are still in operation are barely surviving.

The number of workers is half of what it was at its peak, and only half of the machines are running. The boss is calculating every day how long he can hold on.

This is the true picture of American manufacturing over the past eighty years.

Not every place experiences a dramatic, one-off collapse like Detroit.

People living here will see the factories and warehouses that were once common, and the jobs that were once available, slowly disappear over the course of more than a decade.

It's so slow that most people don't notice, until those who have lost their jobs have enough time to learn a new way of life.

A cheaper, smaller, and unexpected life.

Winston Hardware is located in a two-story red brick building.

The first floor is a warehouse and loading/unloading area, and the second floor is an office.

The building appears to be from a similar era to the Mayo Hotel, both being red brick structures from the 1920s.

The windows are old-fashioned wooden frames that slide up and down, and the exterior walls have been stained gray by coal dust and the passage of time.

However, there were obvious signs of fire in one corner of the warehouse, the walls were blackened by smoke, and the glass of several windows was shattered and temporarily covered with plastic sheeting.

A faint smell of burning lingered in the air, mixed with the smell of water-soaked wood and burnt rubber.

Lin Ge parked his car next to the loading and unloading area.

A young man in overalls was squatting at the warehouse entrance, holding a piece of charred and deformed copper valve, examining it from all angles.

His face was covered in soot, and his hair was a mess.

"Mr. Winston?"

The young man looked up.

It was indeed him, Paul Winston.

His eyes were red, most likely from smoke inhalation, coupled with not sleeping well for several days.

"Mr. Chen?"

He stood up, wiped his face with the back of his hand, and placed the valve in his hand on the wooden box next to him.

"You've arrived."

"I...I didn't expect you to actually come."

"How great are the losses?"

Without exchanging pleasantries, Lin Ge looked directly at the burned area of ​​the warehouse.

From the outside, the burned area covers about a quarter of the entire warehouse.

The area near the east wall was the worst burned, where wooden pallets and cardboard boxes of goods were piled up.

The fact that the fire did not spread to the entire warehouse indicates that the fire department arrived in a timely manner.

However, water damage and smoke damage may affect more goods.

Paul sighed:

"About 30% of the inventory is completely unusable."

"Some of the rest were soaked in water, and some were smoked."

"The copper pipes and valves themselves are not afraid of water, but the packaging was completely destroyed, so they need to be cleaned and inspected again."

His voice betrayed a weariness that had been pushed to its limit.

"The two thousand copper valves and one thousand copper pipes that were supposed to be delivered next week are now all stuck, and I have no goods to deliver."

Above his head, the label of "anxiety" was still there, but a new label had appeared next to it: "enduring".

This is the state a person might be in the day after a disaster.

The first day's breakdown is over; now things have settled into a mechanical, routine mode.

Deal with problems, make phone calls, assess losses, and find solutions.

Emotions are suppressed to the bottom of your consciousness because you don't have time to process them.

But it didn't disappear at the bottom; it was just waiting for the next crack.

Lin Ge looked at his label, pondering something in his mind.

A person who has been cornered is the best negotiating partner.

He disliked the phrase "profiteering from someone's misfortune," finding it too offensive.

He prefers to call it the "distress premium".

You help someone solve a pressing problem, and they pay you a reasonable reward.

Win-win!

"What does your insurance policy say?"

Paul gave a wry smile:

"Thanks to you for reminding me that although the policy expired last month, the insurance company's contract has a 30-day grace period."

"The fire occurred within the grace period, so they will in principle compensate us, but the amount needs to be assessed, and the assessor won't be here until next week."

He shrugged:

"Before that, I didn't get a single penny."

"The lending bank agreed to extend the repayment period by one month, but on the condition that I deliver the orders on time and maintain cash flow."

He raised his head, his eyes revealing a frankness that comes from someone who has reached a dead end:

"This is a vicious cycle. I need to fulfill orders to maintain cash flow, but the goods needed for delivery are burned."

"I need the insurance payout to buy new goods, but the insurance payout is pending an assessment."

"I need the bank's grace period to get through this time, but the bank's grace period is contingent on my ability to deliver the orders."

"Every exit is blocked."

Lin Ge looked at the mountain of water-soaked cardboard boxes piled up in the warehouse.

The cardboard box was printed with "Made in Mexico".

These copper valves and pipes, shipped from a factory in Mexico to Tulsa, were then destroyed by an electrical fire, which destroyed a third of them.

No matter how efficient a globalized supply chain is, it can't prevent the wiring in an old warehouse from aging.

The owner of the old warehouse was standing in front of him, holding a knot in his hand, waiting for someone to hand him a pair of scissors.

When is your order due?

Paul thought Ringo was just asking casually, and he replied:

"Next Friday, the valve is for the industrial water system, and the copper pipe is for the air conditioning refrigeration system."

"The client is an HVAC installation company in Tulsa. They took on a renovation project for a commercial building with a very tight deadline."

"If I can't deliver the goods, I'll have to pay a penalty, and they'll find other suppliers, and I'll lose this customer forever."

Lin Ge nodded.

Lose customers forever.

What Paul called a disaster was a leverage point to him.

A person who doesn't want to lose customers is willing to pay a higher price than usual to retain them.