Blackflame Company

Mu Fan's eyes lit up a little brighter, and he subconsciously ignored the eye-searing red eyeshadow and freakish shorts.

He stood and grabbed the other man's hands.

"What else?"

White Hair pulled his hands free with a constipated expression. "Can you stop grabbing my hands when you talk?"

"The key point is that even counterfeiting comes in different grades. The lowest level is just copying by rote. High-end imitation, though, is the same substance in different packaging!"

As he said this, an inexplicable gleam appeared in White Hair's eyes.

"A product's appearance is the consumer's first impression, and whether that impression is good or bad can directly determine whether the product sells. So, if you don't have research and development capabilities, the crudest and most effective approach is low investment for huge profits—pay professional designers to differentiate the product's exterior, striving to make it look better than the reference item. Back then... ahahaha, back then I didn't do anything."

White Hair had nearly let something slip in his smugness, and hurriedly forced the conversation back on track, regardless of whether he had steered it into a ditch.

Hearing that, not only Mu Fan and Fatty, but even the usually guileless big guy William gave him a thumbs-up.

What Mu Fan thought of was the simplest, most practical Exoskeleton Armor—having Black beautify its appearance to a certain degree before selling it.

And it would very likely be popular on the gray market.

White Hair's idea was absolutely brilliant!

"Of course, that's only the ideal scenario. Counterfeits are easy to make, but why can't so many people get started? It's because the local forces on those chaotic planets aren't just tangled up—they're powerful. If ordinary people go there to sell things, they're lucky if they don't die. So, to make a business