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"I work at a bank in the United States."

"Reborn in 1979, I should have had the chance to show my skills and pursue grand ambitions. But why did I have to reincarnate into an American's body?! And now I have to take over a bank on the brink of bankruptcy?"

sckyh · Ciudad
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269 Chs

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Nine: Old Little Bass's Calculations

The name for the new restaurant came almost simultaneously with the idea itself: Havana Tacos!!

This name received unanimous approval from everyone immediately. Carter, who didn't particularly care about naming and often struggled with it, simply nodded when he saw the other three agreeing, accepting the name without much thought.

It wasn't until later that Carter realized how odd the name was. The "Havana" part was self-explanatory... but "tacos," while accurately reflecting the core of corn tortillas, was actually a Spanish word.

With a brand name in place, the next core issue was deciding the company's location.

"Our workers are mostly from Pearson, so naturally, it should be based here!"

"Bullshit! Carter, don't listen to this old man's nonsense. You're from Douglas, so it should be in Douglas! It's safer, more stable, convenient, and easier for you to manage directly..."

"Safe? Our Pearson isn't unsafe! I'll even clear out the first floor of the police station and give it to you rent-free as an office space if you register the company here!"

The company's registration location directly impacted city tax revenues. And anything involving money could quickly burst any bubbles of cordiality...

A moment ago, Benjamin and Rayberdin had been patting each other on the back, thanking and joking like old pals. Now, they were almost ready to fight each other over future tax revenues...

"Guys, calm down. How about this: Havana Tacos (henceforth HT) will be registered in Pearson, and the logistics company will be based in Douglas. How about that?"

Seeing the two mayors about to brawl over future tax revenues, Carter hesitated briefly before tentatively suggesting his compromise.

"No way! Unless the processing center is also in Douglas!"

"Since it's food processing, the factory should be under HT!"

"Rayberdin! You bastard! The processing plant must be independent..."

...

The noisy argument became the theme of the night, with Rayberdin and Benjamin's bickering only ending when Carter finally couldn't stand it anymore and angrily shut them down.

In the final agreement, HT was to be registered in Pearson, with franchise stores operating on a joint venture basis. Franchisees' shares would depend on their investment amount.

With this model, no matter where these restaurants opened, HT would always get a share of the net income. Pearson, where HT was based, would benefit from tax revenues, and the large number of workers going out for work meant that Pearson's government wouldn't lose out on personal income tax—though that wasn't a big issue.

Firstly, unlike China, the major part of municipal income in the US comes from property taxes, followed by sales taxes. Personal income tax accounts for a relatively small portion of local government revenue. As long as there was business and labor on Pearson's land, or even just land ownership, their income would be secured.

Secondly, Pearson would always be their home. Much like future labor-exporting counties in China, where the towns seem deserted with everyone working elsewhere, people still return and spend money during holidays...

Forfeiting personal income tax in exchange for stable property taxes and holiday spending, along with associated sales taxes... Whether or not this was a loss wasn't the point. During this depression, this strategy ensured that Pearson's residents wouldn't starve or face mass unemployment, which could lead to various issues...

With the theoretical model in place, it was time to execute.

This large-scale labor export involving the entire city was impossible without the municipal government's support and leadership. Even with Pearson's city government leading the way, they first needed to gather public opinion, get city council approval, and then move to implementation.

Similarly, back in Douglas, Carter had no time to rest. He had to register three companies, apply for operational qualifications, find suppliers, and establish the supply chain...

While Carter was making slow but steady progress, old Bass at Argyle's Bass Bank was also making his move...

"Mr. Mel Goodwin, it's not that I want to harm you, but we already have thirty-eight thousand in bad debts! I've even put my retirement money into maintaining our bank's good credit."

Old Bass removed his glasses and sighed, looking pained as he addressed Goodwin, the paper mill owner who had come seeking a loan.

"Bass, I understand. But is there really no way? Even five thousand dollars could help me survive this period!"

"But your house isn't worth that much. I'm very sorry, my old friend, but as the owner of a small savings bank, there's little I can do for you. If it's really tough, I might be able to introduce you to some managers at Atlanta's commercial banks..."

After a symbolic hug and some comforting words, Goodwin left, convinced by Bass's performance. Once he was gone, Bass's expression turned cold.

"Sanderson, haven't you found out anything about Blake Bank? Where do they get the confidence to take over Forest Bank?"

"Sorry, Dad. I've only managed to gather this much information..."

Holding a folder, young Bass walked over to his father, flipping through the papers as he explained:

"Last May, after Chris Blake died of a heart attack, I spread rumors about their insufficient reserves, but Carter managed to counter that with a loan..."

"Wait, what loan? Why didn't you tell me about this?!"

"Well... that Carter offered an extremely high interest rate, averaging nearly 14% annually... I didn't think it necessary to alert you. After all, you've rarely had a chance to relax over the years, and I thought with such high-interest debt, people would soon come demanding repayment... but then the fund rates increased..."

"Fool! Besides the uncontrollable factor of rising federal fund rates, didn't you consider the cost of us taking over Blake Bank after that brat's high-interest loans ruined them?"

Hearing his son's explanation, old Bass was furious. Young Bass, shrinking his neck habitually in fear, still tried to defend himself:

"But with only six months to the FDIC's year-end audit, even with losses, it shouldn't have been too bad. And my idea was to let those high-interest debts become a burden. I couldn't stop him from taking loans, but I could wait for the FDIC to take over Blake Bank. Once the FDIC paid off the debts, we could take over without inheriting those liabilities..."