The Shadow Tycoon
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 5: News Sold by Children
“Newspaper, sir?”
A boy of about eleven or twelve appeared in front of William, wearing a filthy flat cap and carrying an enormous cowhide satchel over one shoulder.
He looked up at William with expectation in his eyes and pulled open the satchel, revealing the newspapers inside.
Children like him all belonged to different “news bosses.” The term did not mean a newspaper headline. It referred to the men who managed the newsboys.
Through certain connections, methods, or other arrangements, these men firmly controlled the street newspaper market in particular districts. Only their own newsboys could sell papers there. No one else was allowed in. Newsstands were not included.
Every morning, they gathered outside the newspaper office, loaded papers still warm from the presses onto handcarts, hauled them back to their “base,” then distributed them to these half-grown children and drove them out onto the streets.
Each child had a sales quota, a minimum limit. If they failed to meet it, they were beaten or left hungry. Only after they exceeded that standard were they allowed to enjoy food, but there was no reward of any kind.
The orphanages and poor families had already taken away the pay for their work. All they had to do was work as much as possible in exchange for a place that kept out the wind and rain, and two meals barely enough to keep them alive.
Some people might call that hell. But compared with those living in even more hopeless pits, these children were practically in heaven.
William took a one-dollar bill from his pocket and selected two newspapers. Locally published papers were fifty cents each, while nationally distributed papers cost one dollar apiece.
The newsboy kept thanking William for his business, and even remembered to take off his cap and bow. To William, one dollar for two newspapers was merely an unavoidable part of life. To this child, it was the salvation he most wanted each day.
The boy was about to leave when William called him back.
“Sir, is there anything else I can do for you?” the half-grown boy asked.
Children like him were often better adapted to society than those from decent families who were still in school. Looking at that young face, still childish yet already ripened by reality and covered with a practiced smile, William felt a little moved.
It was the worst of times.
It was also the best of times.
He asked, “Want to make money?”
The boy nodded at once. “I dream about it, sir. But I won’t do anything illegal.”
Where there was light, there would be darkness. The darker the darkness made the light appear, the more, in return, the light made the darkness deepen.
Some people used children to sell newspapers. Others used children to commit crimes. None of this was some secret rumor. In the course of this society’s vigorous development, everyone had been dazzled by wealth.
As long as money could be made, someone would do the work, no matter what kind of work it was.
William shook his head. “Do you have ninety-seven cents?”
The newsboy hesitated, but quickly pulled ninety-seven cents from his pocket. He had some change on him, all arranged by the news boss and placed in each child’s bag before they went out.
The money did not belong to them. When they returned, the news boss would count it. If anyone lost money, or came up short, they would be starved at best and beaten at worst. That made the children extremely sensitive about money.
Looking at the ninety-seven cents the boy had taken out, all in coins, William took out another dollar and placed it in the boy’s left hand, then took the ninety-seven cents from his other hand.
“Sir, you’re still short three cents. I’ll get it for you right now...” The newsboy thought William wanted change. City transit usually sold tickets in two fares, ten cents and twenty-five cents, one for rides within five miles and the other for rides beyond five miles.
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