I bought a prison in the United States.

The pickup truck drove out of the old industrial park and along the Arkansas River for a while.

The river water shimmered in the afternoon sun, and a flat-bottomed barge carrying sand moved slowly on the surface, leaving a long V-shaped ripple in its wake.

The riverbanks are lined with abandoned industrial sites, rusted railway tracks, collapsed loading and unloading platforms, and piles of coal slag covered with weeds.

These are the remains of Tulsa's golden age of manufacturing.

Lin Ge gripped the steering wheel, his mind calculating another matter.

A cleaning and packaging order worth two thousand dollars yields a profit of about sixteen hundred dollars. The prisoners' wages are pitifully low, and the material costs are almost zero.

This amount of money wasn't much, but it opened a door.

Once Paul's insurance payout arrives, he will restock and restore normal inventory turnover.

By then, Winston Hardware will need more than just disaster-response cleanup and packaging; it will need continuous and predictable orders for parts processing.

The packaging and assembly of various hardware accessories, including certain stamped parts for copper valves, copper pipe connectors, and other hardware fittings.

These things can all be made in prison factories.

More importantly, through Paul, he can reach downstream customers in the Tulsa HVAC installation industry.

Those installation companies need a large number of custom-made hardware components, such as duct connectors, brackets, flanges, and pipe clamps.

Small batches and diverse specifications are things that large, reputable factories are unwilling to produce, which is precisely the advantage of the prison factory!

Lin Ge tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

Paul will be grateful to him, that's for sure.

Gratitude is a valuable intangible asset in business.

When you need someone to refer clients to you, a grateful person is more likely to pick up the phone than someone who has only done business with you.

He stepped on the gas, and the pickup truck accelerated along the riverside highway.

The wind outside the car window blew through his hair, and a country song he didn't recognize was playing on the radio.

The singer is singing a story about "finding the right thing in the wrong place".

……

At 4:30 p.m., Lingo returned to the prison.

When he entered the office, Hamon was sitting in a chair looking at a document.

Seeing Ling Ge enter, he put down the documents, behaving like a boss's secretary.

"Oh, my boss, how's Winston doing?"

Ringo handed Paul his business card:

"A $2,000 cleaning and repackaging order, starting next week."

"In addition, Paul will provide a list of specifications for the damaged parts, and we can make the replacement parts ourselves."

Harmon raised an eyebrow, looking at the dusty, fingerprint-stained business card with some surprise:

"You went to a hardware store that burned down, and actually got an order from them?"

Lingo sat down in the chair and crossed his legs:

"To correct your wording, it was a deal that satisfied both parties."

"He needs to deliver orders on time to retain customers and bank grace periods, and I need orders to fill production capacity."

"He provides the materials, I provide the labor, he earns the gross profit, and we earn the processing fee. Nobody owes anyone anything."

Hamon shook his head:

"The kind of opportunistic looting I know doesn't look like this."

"The warehouse is on fire? Great! All his goods are burned, so I can raise the price of my goods."

"And you, taking advantage of the situation... to help?"

Lin Ge picked up the coffee pot on the table and poured himself a cup:

"Helping others in times of trouble is also a business, it's just that the accounting period is different."

"Robbers make quick, one-time money, while those who help others make money more slowly but over a longer period."

He took a sip of coffee, frowned; prison coffee was as awful as ever.

"Paul is about thirty years old this year, and his hardware store will continue to operate in Tulsa for at least another twenty years, barring any unforeseen circumstances."

"Which is more worthwhile: a 20-year order or a one-time price increase? Even an elementary school student could do that."

Harmon raised his eyebrows slightly:

"Are you running your business with a 20-year-future perspective? Do you really think private prisons can last that long?"

"Once the government's financial pressure eases, private prisons might have to close down. What will you do then?"

Ringo put down his coffee cup and looked at Hamon.

He knew that Hamon wasn't questioning him, but just testing him.

A prison warden, watching a much younger Chinese man running his territory with a completely different business logic, would inevitably feel some uncertainty.

"Then I can tell you now that private prisons will not be closed."

Ringo, speaking in the voice of someone from the future, stated to him a fact that had already been verified:

"It won't happen in ten, twenty, or even forty or fifty years. Do you know why?"

Hamon looked at him, waiting for an answer.

"Because the US government isn't as always rich or as responsible as you might imagine."

"What?"

Harmon hadn't expected the other person to throw out such a shocking statement right off the bat. What would happen if some people heard it?

Lingo held up one finger:

"First, the cost of building a state prison is three times that of a private prison."

"Second, the unions in state prisons keep operating costs high."

"Third, the number of prisoners will only increase, not decrease. Politicians need someone to solve this problem for them, but they are unwilling to raise taxes for it."

"Private prisons are their answer!"

He leaned back in his chair:

"As long as these three conditions remain unchanged, private prisons will not close down."

"None of these three points seem like they're going to change."

Lingo was indeed looking at the problem from the perspective of decades in the future.

But even if he wasn't a prophet, the operating logic of capitalism is the same in any time and space.

The lowest-cost solution will ultimately prevail, no matter how ugly it may look!

Private prisons are cheaper than state prisons, that's the whole reason they exist, and that's the whole reason they'll continue to exist.

Ringo stood up and picked up the checkbook:

"Now, if you don't mind, I need to call Peterson to confirm the equipment details for next week."

"The prerequisite for taking advantage of someone's misfortune is that you have to have something to take advantage of; right now, the stamping press hasn't even arrived yet."

"By the way, keep an eye on the gossip in the cafeteria at lunchtime."

"The prisoners only have time to gossip when they're too idle. Once Winston's goods arrive, they won't have time to talk about these things anymore."

Harmon didn't know why Ringo had such great confidence.

But he's not a businessman; he's more concerned with the immediate troubles than with the future potential profits from the prison.

"Chen, there's something I need to tell you, it's not about business."

Hamon walked to the door, closed it, and said in a deep voice:

"Ghost Fang and Blue Snake faced off again this afternoon in the exercise yard, and Wade overheard their conversation."

Ghost Fang said to Blue Snake: "You think you can do whatever you want here just because you have an organization backing you up? Let me tell you, I'm the one who calls the shots here."

Blue Snake replied: "Here, you can barely control three dogs."