Chapter 129: An Auction of Fallen Spoils

When breakfast was over, Ferraler called William. He would be coming by shortly, so William did not hurry to leave.

Around ten o’clock, Ferraler arrived at William’s residence in a rush.

He glanced at Eleanor with some curiosity. After William introduced them, he greeted Eleanor, and she returned to the room upstairs.

After Eleanor left, Ferraler did not discuss the girl. This was William’s private life. In the Baler Federation, respecting another person’s privacy and personal affairs was a very important courtesy. He merely took slight notice of her.

Then he brought over something William wanted: several responses from the mayor’s office.

“The land you wanted, the mayor has agreed to it. He can give you one hundred acres, but you need to provide at least eighteen hundred jobs locally, or three thousand jobs within the state!”

There were standards like this for purchasing nonresidential land in the Baler Federation: provide a certain number of jobs, or complete certain economic plans.

Once the owner of the land failed to meet those standards, the “noncompliant” land under his name would be confiscated and then auctioned off or left idle again.

Of course, that also included all real property on the land. For that reason, most entrepreneurs and handlers hired well-known designers before enclosing land and paid them to draft a plan.

They would plan the scale of their industry across three different stages, short term, medium term, and long term, then sign a Land Transfer Agreement with the local City Hall on that basis, transferring the land in phases.

That way, certain issues would not put too much pressure on the handler or factory owner, such as the required jobs and the wages attached to them.

What William had originally asked for was not one hundred acres, but now the mayor had directly expanded his plan by more than double. That meant there was no room for discussion.

Faced with the enlarged plan, William’s response was decisive. “I can’t meet those requirements in the short term.”

William’s reaction did not surprise Ferraler. Eighteen hundred jobs, with each worker paid two hundred dollars a month, meant three hundred sixty thousand dollars in wages every month alone. Even if the present William could produce that money, he would be finished by the following month.

“That’s only a mid-to-long-term target set by the mayor. You have two years to meet the employment requirement.” At this point, Ferraler lowered his voice slightly. “In truth, you only need to solve two-thirds of it. After all, if you’ve solved two-thirds of the problem, then you’ve solved two-thirds of the problem!”

That was the value and advantage of having a consultant. He knew better than William where the mayor’s bottom line lay. Two-thirds meant twelve hundred jobs.