Washington, Capitol Hill.
The long oak table in the hearing room was polished to a shine.
Fu Haoran is sitting at one end with a famous sign in front of him.
There were more than a dozen people sitting opposite, with Major General Bradley, deputy director of the Logistics Bureau, in the middle, Colonel Howard, director of the Munitions Procurement Division on the left, and Legal Advisor on the right.
Representatives from the three military suppliers huddled together, with General Jensen huddled in the corner.
The cameras were mounted on both sides with the red light on.
Fu Haoran unbuttoned his haute couture suit and leaned back on the chair.
Watching this battle, Fu Haoran sneered in his heart.
"This is judging me as a model."
Bradley knocked on the microphone. "The hearing has begun."
The supplier representative was the first to stand up. He was bald, red-faced, and had a tight tie.
"General, DYB Company is dumping combat uniforms at a low price of 120 US dollars, which has seriously impacted the military supply market. This is malicious competition and endangers national security! We demand that DYB be immediately blocked and all its assets in the United States be frozen!"
A congressman next to him knocked on the table and echoed, "United States military soldiers must wear equipment made by United States!"
The camera is aimed at Fu Haoran.
He didn't move, leaned back on the chair, waited for the other party to finish shouting, then slowly picked up the phone, looked around, and said calmly:
"Everyone, please first clarify the fact that DYB outdoor products are civilian products listed on Amazon. The prices are clearly marked and there is no forced buying or selling."
"They are your soldiers who voluntarily bought my equipment with their own clothing subsidies."
The supplier representative's face turned red.
Fu Haoran raised his hand to signal, the assistant pressed the remote control, and the big screen lit up.
On the left is the public-issue combat uniform, which sells for US$1,200. It has a low wear-resistance index and a thin flame-retardant coating. It will open in the crotch after three months of wearing.
On the right is the DYB combat uniform, which sells for $120. It has a high wear-resistance index, meets flame retardant standards, and has better breathability.
"The clothing allowance for soldiers is only US$350 to US$400 a year."
"To buy a set of public-issue combat uniforms, the subsidy is not even enough."
"Buy my equipment for 120 US dollars per set and save more than 200 US dollars to send home."
"Your soldiers are working hard on the front line and can't even afford a decent combat uniform."
Fu Haoran paused.
"I just want to help them save some money. Is that wrong?"
The hearing room was quiet for a moment.
Several officers lowered their heads. Of course they knew the quality of public-issue equipment, but no one had ever dared to say so at the hearing.
Fu Haoran didn't stop.
"And this report, Government Accountability Office."
"United States military shoes and boots supply chain has forty-one United States suppliers. The local manufacturing ratio is only one percent. You can't even make a pair of boots."
He turned to the next page.
"BOOTS Act, submitted to Congress last year, requires the military to purchase all domestically produced military boots. As a result, the congressman who sponsored the bill turned around and placed orders for outsourcing factories in his own district."
Fu Haoran threw the report on the table and his voice became cold:
"You rely on outsourcing and OEM to sell combat uniforms that cost less than one hundred dollars to the military for twelve hundred dollars."
"Cheating taxpayers' money and allowing frontline soldiers to die in rags."
"You still have the nerve to judge me here?"
He glanced at the entire audience and his eyes fell on the faces of the supplier representatives.
"Lincoln President said back then that anyone who is disloyal to the country is not worthy of the country's asylum."
"President Roosevelt cleaned up a lot of war monies."
"You are sitting here to judge me today, not because I broke the law, but because I blocked your way of making money."
"The people in this country who truly love it are working hard on the battlefield, while you are counting your money in the rear."
The hearing room was silent for three seconds, and the faces of several congressmen turned the color of pig liver.
Although this is true, how can anyone hide their shame when they tell an open secret?!
Also, please don't mention the name Roosevelt. Don't you know that we can't bear it mentally?
For the United States capitalists, although Roosevelt is a great president, he is also the tyrant they least want to face.
Bradley saw that Fu Haoran became more and more courageous as he fought, and was about to call the opposing "plaintiff" group autistic, so he had to interrupt:
"Adjourn the meeting."
In the corridor.
Fu Haoran leaned against the window and opened a bottle of water.
Jimmy walked over quickly. "Boss, Major General Bradley is coming this way."
Bradley walked next to him and stood still.
The two people looked out the window at the Capitol Hill lawn side by side.
There was silence for ten seconds.
"Major General Fu." Bradley spoke, "I agree with what you just said."
Fu Haoran said nothing.
"But you put us on fire." Bradley turned around, "Although your intentions are good, this system does not allow anyone to break the rules."
Fu Haoran screwed on the bottle cap. "You want me to plead guilty?"
"No." Bradley shook his head, "I have a compromise plan."
He paused.
"You cancel all online sales channels, and we allow you to continue offline sales."
"As compensation, we will introduce you to offline customers."
Bradley took out several contracts from the briefcase and handed them over.
Fu Haoran took it and glanced at it.
It is an OEM contract between several military suppliers. They want to buy out DYB's products at the ex-factory price and then sell them at the retail price.
A set of combat uniforms costs DYB 120 US dollars from the factory, and they resell it to the military for 1,200 US dollars.
Fu Haoran After reading this, I sneered in my heart.
"After working on it for a long time, they asked me to give them a modern factory."
"I asked why these Angsa people suddenly became kind-hearted. It turned out that they wanted me to work for them, and they continued to make the difference. I made small money, and they made big money."
Fu Haoran was not very angry because he suddenly had a plan.
A plan to let these Angsa people get in on their own.
Fu Haoran then showed an angry expression. "General Bradley, online channels are my lifeblood. Cutting off the line is what's the difference between shutting down my business?"
"If you want me to close the business, you have to pay more."
It is impossible to add more money, but you still have chips.
Bradley spread his hands. "This is the only solution. Online must be stopped, otherwise the supplier will not give up, and I can't stop it from the Congress."
Fu Haoran pretended to be thoughtful and was silent for a few seconds before speaking, "In addition to regular military uniforms, I also need body armor, helmets, gloves, goggles, backpack-type water bladders and other equipment. You can purchase them from me."
Bradley, who is not good at mathematics, nodded indifferently. "Deal."
Fu Haoran forced down the corners of his mouth that were about to rise to the sky, and signed without hesitation.
According to the contract, the first batch is 500,000 units and at least 1 million units per year thereafter.
The ex-factory price is 120 US dollars, the cost is less than 30 US dollars, and a set net profit is 90 US dollars.
Five hundred thousand units is equivalent to 45 million U. S. dollars, and one million units is equivalent to 90 million U. S. dollars.
This is just a combat uniform.
Boots, gloves, tactical vests, bulletproof plates... each item is an independent contract, and every line can be eaten again.
This is a big cake.
"Okay." Fu Haoran nodded, "I agree."
Bradley was stunned for a moment, obviously not expecting to be so happy.
"On that line..."
"It will be removed from the shelves today." Fu Haoran put the contract into his briefcase, "But General Bradley, I have a few conditions."
"Say."
"First, offline customers only connect to the military procurement system and do not go through middlemen."
"Second, I want equal bidding qualifications for bulletproof vests, tactical vests, and bulletproof plates."
"Third, my factory must retain the DYB brand identity. I am not a factory, I am a supplier."
Bradley frowned and stared at Fu Haoran for more than ten seconds.
He knows better than anyone the bad debts of military procurement in recent years.
Suppliers receive kickbacks, equipment is of poor quality, frontline soldiers complain constantly, and Congress turns a blind eye.
Don't get me wrong, Bradley doesn't want to break the situation, but wants to get a piece of the pie.
There is no reason why the original chain of interests cannot be broken. Now that there is such a good reason in front of you, why not agree?
Now as long as he signs a long-term contract, he can not only silence Congress, but also produce solid political achievements. He can even take this opportunity to kick out all suppliers who receive kickbacks and firmly hold the purchasing power in his own hands.
As for the interests of middlemen?
Their life and death have nothing to do with themselves!
Bradley extends his hand:
"Yes, but I have a premise. The first batch of 500,000 sets of combat uniforms must be delivered within three months, and the quality cannot be lower than your online sales standards."
Fu Haoran held his hand and raised an imperceptible smile at the corner of his mouth:
"It's a deal."
Fu Haoran stretched out his hand and Bradley shook it.
When Capitol Hill walked out, Jimmy followed behind, looking puzzled.
"Boss, the online channel is just closed? We sell well on Amazon..."
Read the full chapter 157 for free. Compromise? No, just make the business bigger, link:.
"Jimmy." Fu Haoran didn't look back, "Amazon How much could it sell last year?"
"Uh... about 200,000 sets."
"Two hundred thousand sets, with a profit of 90 US dollars per set, 18 million a year. Now the OEM contract is for 1 million sets a year, with a profit of 90 US dollars per set, 90 million a year."
"Not counting boots, gloves, bulletproof vests."
He paused.
"Moreover, the contract is signed as "DYB Manufacturing", not "XXX Brand OEM". The things are still mine, just not Amazon."
Jimmy counted on his fingers and shut up.
"Also," Fu Haoran stopped and looked back at him, "Do you know how many bulletproof vests United States military purchases in a year?"
Jimmy shook his head.
"Last year, there were 800,000 pieces. The purchase price of a bulletproof vest was US$1,500 to US$2,000. My cost was less than US$200."
"Just wait and see."
Shengze Town, Everprosper Textile Factory.
Sun Zhixu stared at the computer screen and refreshed it. Amazon's store page showed "This product has been removed from the shelves."
Tao opened the door and came in. "Director Xiao Sun, why is the online line turned off?"
"Notified by the headquarters." Sun Zhixu rubbed his temples, "But don't worry, the orders are not less, but more."
He pushed a fax in front of Tao. The military's direct procurement contract, the first batch of 500,000 sets of combat uniforms, will be delivered within three months. There are also intended orders for boots, gloves, and tactical vests.
Tao After reading it, I took off my reading glasses and wiped them.
"How much is...?"
"The combat uniform alone costs 90 million U. S. dollars. The boots, gloves, and vests combined cost three times that amount."
Tao was silent for five seconds.
"Can our factory afford it?"
"You have to eat even if you can't." Sun Zhixu stood up and walked to the window, "Expand production. Recruit people. Work in three shifts."
He turned around.
"Tao, we are not just making clothes. Next we are going to make bulletproof vests, bulletproof plates, and tactical equipment."
"The headquarters has said that they support all equipment, materials and technology. We only focus on production."
Tao was stunned for a moment, then grinned.
"Director Xiao Sun, are we... going to make a distribution?"
Sun Zhixu did not answer, but the corners of his mouth curled up.
Just three days before Fu Haoran had a verbal battle with the crowd at Capitol Hill, a "meteorite" cut through the night sky and fell into the valley in the Appalachian Mountains on the outskirts of Washington.
The impact overturned all trees within a hundred meters, and soil and gravel were thrown into the air and fell like rain.
A deep trench several kilometers long was plowed into the ground, and at the end was an impact crater with a diameter of more than 100 meters.
There is something lying at the bottom of the pit.
Not a meteorite, but a spaceship!
The entire body of the spacecraft was pitch black, with scores all over its surface. A gap more than two meters wide was opened in the cabin, and the steel plates rolled outwards.
Some kind of viscous liquid hung on the edge of the gap, dripping onto the charred soil.
The moment the liquid touched the ground, the soil was corroded into a foam, making a sizzling sound.
There was deathly silence inside the spacecraft.
Something originally fixed to the exoskeleton frame was missing.
The bracket was bent from the inside, and the fracture was stained with the same viscous liquid.
After daybreak, the first witnesses appeared.
A dozen college students, both men and women, who came to the Appalachian Mountains for a hike, walked halfway along the hiking route in the valley and saw the collision scene.
"Shet."
The leading boy's name is Evan, a sophomore in college and an active member of the outdoor club.
He was the first to climb over the fallen tree trunk and saw the huge impact crater and the silent black spaceship at the bottom of the crater.
He took out his cell phone, turned on the camera, and pointed it at the bottom of the pit.
"Look at this, is this a meteorite? This can't be a meteorite." The camera zoomed in and focused on the cracked bulkhead of the spacecraft.
The metallic luster on the edge of the crack is particularly conspicuous in the sunlight.
The dense carvings on it look like some kind of writing or some kind of decoration.
A girl's voice came from the video. "Don't go down! What if there is radiation!"
Evan ignored her. Several people had already gone down. Evan didn't want to miss the opportunity to become famous.
Besides, if you find something valuable and resell it, you can just win.
Evan slid down the wall of the pit. "I'll just take a look."
Others followed, and the camera kept shaking.
Evan stepped on the scorched earth at the bottom of the pit, approached the spacecraft, and reached out to touch the notches on the bulkhead.
The carvings are cool and the texture is extremely regular.
He put his phone close to the gap and turned on the flash.
The light beam swept across the cabin, illuminating the crooked metal brackets, unknown debris scattered on the floor, and large areas of corrosion marks on the inside of the bulkhead.
Then the light beam stopped on something.
In the shadow of the corner of the cabin, there is an egg standing.
It's not an egg, not a bird's egg, but an egg nearly half a meter high, covered with a dark brown organic matter layer, which looks like both leather and carapace.
The top of the egg had four cracks, like some kind of flower petals blooming.
"Walterfak, what is this..." Evan held his breath, the hand holding the phone kept shaking, and the camera was focused on the half-meter-high insect egg.
He is an internet celebrity in an outdoor community with hundreds of thousands of fans on his account. He usually earns a following by shooting videos on wilderness adventures.
The weird insect egg in front of him is definitely the top material that can make him popular.
"Come over and take pictures! This is definitely big news!" Evan completely forgot about the girl's warning. He walked closer step by step with his mobile phone, put the lens in front of the gap where the insect eggs were cracked, and turned on the flash to take pictures frantically.
"If this is released, it will definitely explode!"
However, the bright light of the flash light disturbed the contents of the eggs.
The top of the egg is fully open.
A black shadow popped out of the crack so fast that the cell phone camera only captured an afterimage.
The next second, the screen shook violently, and Evan screamed.
Then the girls screamed.
Evan was hugged by an octopus-like creature and strangled by the neck.
The surrounding companions rushed to help, but more bugs jumped out and hugged other people's faces.
Whimpering sounds were heard, as if something thick and big<i class="icon icon-uniE07F"></i><i class="icon icon-uniE007"></i> had entered their throats.
The camera flipped over and focused on the ground, leaving only soil, dead leaves, and a twitching hiking shoe.
The video cuts off here.
The video was posted to Instagram by Evan's girlfriend three hours later.
Caption: My boyfriend disappeared in Appalachia, this is the last video, does anyone know what this is.
The comments section was initially ridiculing.
"It's fake."
"Movie props."
"Get the heat."
However, the Triad Company big data computer room is analyzing frame by frame, magnifying the black shadow.
That's a hand.
Pale, slender, with eight fingers, each end of which is connected to a membranous web.
The space between the knuckles is covered with some kind of exoskeleton structure.
It is rushing toward the camera, its eight fingers fully spread out, like an unfolding net.
Half an hour later, the video was deleted.
The account that posted the relevant video was canceled.
All three students' social media accounts were deleted.
No official statement, no news reports.
An hour later, the area around the impact crater of the Appalachian Mountains was blocked by National Guard in the name of "forest fire drill".
The first to enter the scene were a group of private armed men wearing black jumpsuits.
The leader stood at the edge of the pit, looking at the spaceship at the bottom of the pit, with no expression on his face.
His name is Hudson.
"Move."
Armed men poured into the pit.
Instrument fragments, sealed in lead-lined boxes.
Armor fragments, numbered and packed in boxes.
The core of the spacecraft database is cut into one piece.
A body deep inside the spaceship, a humanoid creature with a height of more than two meters and a huge body, with some kind of thick braided structure remaining on its head, was packed and carried out.
The skin of the humanoid creature was covered with exoskeleton armor, and a huge hole opened in its chest, as if it had been exploded from the inside.
The body was taken out and put into a freezer at minus 80 degrees Celsius.
Hudson walked to the gap in the bulkhead, squatted down, and wiped the soil corroded by the viscous liquid with his fingers.
The dirt was still sizzling, and the fingertips of his gloves were beginning to turn black.
He stood up and took off his gloves.
"Nothing is left behind."
When Triad Company was collecting samples and transporting the spacecraft, the sewers in the city were a different scene.
In the darkness, something was crawling on the damp wall.
Thick, transparent mucus seeped out from the gaps in the pipes and dripped into the stagnant water, making a slight sizzling sound.