Chapter 14: No Effort Without Incentives

In the second-floor office of the House of Beasts, Vincent's cowboy hat sat low on his head, casting a heavy shadow that obscured most of his face. His prominent aquiline nose seemed to peck at the surroundings.

Michael, the nightclub's publicist, felt somewhat flustered and attempted to mask it with words. "The House of Beasts has been open for less than a month. Building up customers, reputation, and fame takes time," he said. Michael had promoted bars catering mainly to male customers and bars catering mainly to female customers, but this was the first time he couldn't deflect blame. "You're just being too impatient. Success in business follows a process."

Vincent responded calmly, "That's not what you said when you took that $10,000 commission 25 days ago."

Michael's spirits lifted at the thought of the substantial commission. "Give me another month," he urged. "I'm working hard, but there are issues with the environment."

Returning the money wasn't an option; he didn't have that much cash on hand. "You know the regulations in Georgia," Michael continued. "We can't advertise directly in the media or shopping malls. Our only option is private promotion. With the Conservative Methodist Association causing trouble everywhere and the media fanning the flames, it's been challenging."

Without even raising his eyelids, Vincent inquired, "What about the big-name celebrities you promised would visit the club for fun?"

While direct advertising was prohibited, featuring big stars at the club could garner significant press coverage.

Michael replied, "I'm still in contact."

Vincent lifted his head slightly, making his aquiline nose appear even more pronounced. "You may not be able to invite Julia Roberts as a female star in Georgia, but you can certainly secure Holly Hunter."

Michael was momentarily stunned. Two Oscar-winning actresses!

Vincent explained deliberately, "You demanded a $10,000 reward, and I granted it. Do you know why?"

Michael asserted confidently, "Because I'm worth it."

Vincent raised a finger. "First, I used money to motivate your enthusiasm." He raised another finger. "Second, I have full confidence in recovering the corresponding price."

Leaning forward, Michael pleaded unconsciously, "Just give me a bit more time."

Vincent reached for the phone and dialed the bar. "Bruce, gather everyone in fifteen minutes. No one leaves, and we're having an internal meeting."

Michael couldn't help but worry, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. "What... what are you planning to do?"

"The Hulk Mansion is a lawful establishment, and we won't engage in any illegal activities," Vincent assured him as he stood. "I want to assemble my team and hear their thoughts."

Seeing that he wasn't in immediate danger, Michael breathed a sigh of relief and implored, "Is it better to trust professionals rather than rely on those fools who can't even read newspapers?"

Vincent left the room.

He, too, wanted to place trust in the professionals, but they weren't driving customer traffic.

Michael quickly followed.

Fifteen minutes later, all the employees of the Beast Club, including the gigolos, gathered near the stage for the meeting.

Martin and Bruce stayed on the far left, waiting for the boss to speak.

Martin and Bruce positioned themselves on the far left, patiently waiting for the boss to address them.

Vincent, standing tall on the ring stage, surveyed the room before posing a question, "You're all aware of the club's customer flow. Do any of you have suggestions?"

Hart, the leader of the sports boy group, quickly chimed in, "Boss, let's go back to our professions. What's the point here?"

Vincent responded sternly, "Bruce, if Hart utters such nonsense again, kindly escort him out of the building, making it the most civil process you can muster."

Hart glanced nervously at Bruce, his lips trembling, "I'll be quiet."

Meanwhile, Michael, catching sight of Martin once more, began calculating.

Vincent inquired further, "Where are the rest of your ideas?"

Silence prevailed for the moment, as Martin hesitated to share his ideas without knowing if there were potential benefits involved. He believed in working with the consciousness of a laborer.

"Very well. Just as I expected, my loyal comrades don't act without incentives," Vincent remarked as he tipped his cowboy hat slightly. "For anyone who can consistently double the club's customer flow and consequently double the House of Beasts' revenue, there will be a $10,000 reward."

At the mention of the $10,000 reward, Michael couldn't resist but interject, "I've got a plan."

All eyes turned toward Michael, who then gestured toward Martin, saying, "I can solve this if he cooperates."

Martin was puzzled.

However, fearing others might snatch the bonus, Michael persisted, "Why can't we attract customers? Because we lack star-level dancers!" He pointed at Martin. "With his looks and professional choreography training, I can transform him into an Atlanta star. A superstar!"

Martin couldn't help but think, "What kind of vendetta does this guy have against me?" He promptly intervened, "Boss, this guy is exaggerating things. I'll admit I'm not bad-looking, but not to the extent he claims. Hart and the others are decent too."

Vincent's trust in Michael had already crumbled, and he shifted his gaze, saying, "Ivan, escort him out."

Ivan and his compatriot firmly held Michael and hauled him away. Michael contemplated shouting but felt something on his waist, causing him to think twice.

Vincent then turned his attention to Martin and inquired, "What about you?"

Bruce and the others initially glanced at Hart but swiftly reconsidered.

Hart's companions were somewhat egotistical, and they weren't keen on what Michael had proposed.

Recognizing the potential benefits, Martin took a step forward, declaring, "Boss, I have an idea."

Vincent assessed the remaining silent subordinates and ordered, "Follow me upstairs."

As Martin prepared to follow Vincent, Bruce interjected, "I've heard that veterinarian Bill might have a solution for cattle and sheep. You might want to consult with him beforehand." Martin couldn't resist flipping Bruce the middle finger before proceeding to the second floor with Vincent.

Downstairs, Bruce endured a lengthy wait, but nothing significant occurred. Hart, the leader among the gigolos, clapped his hands and announced to the others, "Alright, guys, let's grab a locker from the locker room; we've got a newcomer on the way."

Bruce, meanwhile, decided to make use of a bar stool.

Hart, as he departed, teased Bruce, saying, "You did mention wanting to be a civilized person."

Upstairs, in the office, a heavy silence pervaded the room, with Vincent's face still shrouded by the shadow of his cowboy hat.

Martin's recent proposal had left not only Vincent bewildered but also his father and brother. It was a methodology entirely foreign to their understanding.

Vincent questioned, "Where did you acquire this knowledge?"

"I'm an actor. I've been on film sets since I was sixteen, studying media and public opinion strategies. I've always aspired to become famous," Martin explained. With his acting prowess, he delivered this with the authenticity of a performance. "I've observed many successful film and television endeavors, and I'm familiar with media styles."

Vincent probed further, "How confident are you?"

After a brief pause, Martin replied, "I'm about 60% confident."

Vincent continued his inquiry, "What will you require?"

Martin responded, "I'll need Bruce to help me enlist a few credible spokespersons, and the club will cover the expenses, including labor, during the process."

Vincent, willing to incentivize Martin's endeavor, stated, "If you succeed, we'll clear your debt, double your salary, and reward you with a $5,000 bonus."

Martin didn't dwell on the possibility of failure, being well aware of Hart's fate serving as an example. As for the striper, he mentally prepared himself for whatever challenges lay ahead.