Chapter 41: Chapter 41: Boss Fess
The promised one million dollars from Henry was quickly injected into Supreme Creativity under the witness of both Kirk, the lawyer, and the attorneys from the Heinz Group.
As Ethan and Henry shook hands and he saw Henry out of the company, he noticed Jimmy practically floating as he walked.
Ethan couldn't help but tease, "Jimmy, are you about to take off?"
"Yeah! Take off!" Jimmy mimicked Michael Jackson's dance moves, then let out an excited whoop. "Ethan! You're amazing! One million dollars! We're going to be rich!"
"So, what do you plan to do now?" Ethan asked with a slight hint of challenge in his tone.
"Of course, buy a car first!" Jimmy threw his hands in the air. "Then, we'll give this place a luxury renovation, hire a few pretty girls, and with the rest of the money, we could rent a bigger studio! Wow, this is gonna be awesome!"
But Ethan quickly doused his excitement with some cold reality. "No, Jimmy. Remember one thing: never treat the investor's money as if it were your own."
"What do you mean?"
Ethan tapped his finger on the table. "The investor's money should be spent on the company, not on ourselves. I already have a plan for the funds—I'm putting $800,000 into advertising."
"Advertising?" Jimmy looked incredulous. "Does it really need that much?"
"Of course. We need to make a big splash, even if we burn through every cent, as long as we get the major companies to know us. $800,000 is already a conservative amount." Ethan understood the importance of marketing and planned to emulate the aggressive advertising strategies used by the big companies in the digital age. His goal was to make Supreme Creativity a household name with short, catchy ads.
"We'll plaster our company's ads on squares, office building screens, and billboards everywhere. Just one line, repeated three times."
"What's the slogan?" Jimmy asked, curiosity piqued.
Ethan stroked the stubble on his chin. "Supreme Creativity—America's premier creativity provider!"
The ad would be simple and memorable. Ethan planned to use computer graphics along with real actors to make it stand out.
"That sounds impressive, but won't it come across as a bit too much?" Jimmy asked.
"No, no. It's an honest description. Our company will focus on providing top-tier creative solutions for the industry's leading companies, unlike those small agencies just doing trivial work."
"Alright, I'll leave that to you. You know me, Ethan—I overthink everything. I can spend half a day just picking a dance partner."
"Don't worry, I've got it covered." Ethan jingled his car keys. It was a pity smartphones hadn't yet fully developed—otherwise, short video ads would've been a killer strategy.
Still, once they had enough capital, implementing those ideas would be even more effective.
After discussing the ad campaign, Ethan noticed Jimmy had suddenly gone quiet, looking a bit down. After thinking for a moment, Ethan understood what was going on.
"How about this," Ethan said, "I'll let you handle the remaining $200,000. First, buy a car for the company, something under $100,000—nothing too flashy. Then, spend a few thousand on renovations; we don't need too many workstations. Just buy more phones. Finally, hire ten customer service reps."
"Customer service reps? You mean sweet-voiced girls?" Jimmy immediately perked up, like someone had flipped a switch.
Ethan chuckled. This guy was always driven by his impulses, but he was actually onto something.
"Exactly. Their voices need to be sweet—so sweet that it's almost too much, something that makes an impression."
"Leave it to me, Ethan. That's my specialty!"
"Good. I've got some things to take care of, so I'll leave it to you."
After wrapping up the company's plans, Ethan drove over to Faith Music Company.
Slo had called him, saying that Boss Fess wanted to see him and needed his help with a small favor.
The name Fess was one Ethan had heard countless times, whether from Yesan or Raymond.
Apparently, everyone agreed that Fess was the ultimate romantic, the kind of guy who would go to any lengths for a woman.
This made him quite different from the ruthless types Ethan had encountered, who often treated women as mere accessories.
Naturally, Ethan was curious about the man.
But the main reason he agreed to meet was that Slo had helped him with a problem. Since Slo had asked, a small favor was the least Ethan could do.
As Ethan arrived at Faith Music and followed Slo inside, he immediately sensed something was off.
The hallways were filled with men, many of them Black, some casually sharpening knives or smoking as they eyed the surroundings suspiciously. A few were even holding guns in plain view.
Ethan had never seen so many different types of firearms before.
His brow furrowed—this kind of environment made him uneasy, like walking in a heavily militarized zone.
Was this what it was like around a gang boss? It was more than he had expected.
"Slo..." Ethan whispered, but Slo turned to him, "What's wrong?"
Slo shrugged. "Don't worry, it's not about you. Fess's crew got into it with the Wild Dogs."
The Wild Dogs? A gang from the south?
Suddenly, Ethan remembered the shootout with the police that he and Jimmy had stumbled upon. Damn, so Fess's gang had been involved in that!
Soon after, Ethan was ushered into what had once been Yesan's office, though both Yesan and Raymond were out of town. The office, which had been neat and tidy, was now a smoky mess.
Even Yesan's prized Cuban cigars were being roughly handled by Fess, who was puffing away on one.
Good thing Yesan wasn't around; he'd have been heartbroken.
But Ethan didn't have time to dwell on Yesan's absence, as two men pressed him down onto a couch, putting him face-to-face with Fess.
Fess was a massive, bald man, his body covered in tattoos. Ethan even noticed Chinese characters on Fess's head: "Cow Power."
Cow Power? A powerful steak?
No, wait—he meant "Powerful." Damn, the tattoo artist had messed it up!
Ethan did his best to keep his thoughts from wandering too much, but luckily, Fess snapped him back to reality by speaking up.
"Ethan, you're not white, are you?"
"No, Fess. I'm mixed-race—my father was Chinese."
Fess nodded, his stern face relaxing slightly. "Good. At least you're not one of those damn white pigs. I can't stand their smell."
After a brief pause, Fess continued, "I called you here because Raymond said your filming skills are top-notch. I need you to handle something for me."
...
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