Transmigrated as the Villain Boss's Precious Darling-Chapter 139: Recruiting a Downline

The punks weren’t actually afraid of Jim Thorne; they were terrified of the silent Adrian Hawthorne. That guy had been vicious just now, going for chokeholds and eye-gouging. Every single move was dirty. ’He’s a real piece of work,’ they thought.

"You’re skilled. We can’t beat you, so we admit defeat. We won’t try to get money from you again."

The leader was surprisingly straightforward about it. A loss was a loss.

"How much do you make a month collecting protection fees?" Adrian Hawthorne suddenly asked.

The leader hesitated, then embellished the number a bit. "Not much. About seventy or eighty."

In reality, their highest-earning month had only been a little over sixty. Other times, it was typically forty or fifty. After splitting the money, each of them ended up with about ten, and they were already quite content with that. It was better than sitting at home being a freeloader.

"That’s so little," Tang Xiao’nan said quietly as she walked over.

The punks’ faces flushed red. They were actually being looked down on by a little girl. ’How humiliating!’

Adrian Hawthorne smiled. "It is a bit low. How about this: you help me sell things, and I’ll guarantee each of you makes at least thirty a month, maybe even more."

He had been worrying about finding people. Jim Thorne alone definitely wasn’t enough. While Vessaria wasn’t a huge city, it wasn’t small either, and the market demand was significant. If he wanted to earn more money, he had to recruit more frontline salespeople. That would free him up to research other products.

Just selling movie stills definitely wouldn’t be enough. Adrian Hawthorne had a long-term vision. He needed to accumulate capital quickly and then take a trip south. Those cassette tapes with their "decadent" music, and the fashionable clothes from Portloria—that’s where he could make the big money. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

These punks lived in the city, were more familiar with the local situation, and were bold besides. They were perfectly suited for sales.

"Can we really make thirty?"

The gang leader wasn’t entirely convinced, but he wanted to be. His dad was a veteran fitter at the machinery factory and only made a little over forty a month. His mom glued paper boxes at home, working until her eyes were nearly blind, all to earn just ten a month. ’If I could make thirty,’ he thought, ’my mom wouldn’t have to stay up all night working anymore.’

"Of course. It will be more than thirty, and that amount will keep growing—as long as you listen to me," Adrian Hawthorne said, a look of arrogance on his face.

’Thirty is nothing,’ he thought. He was confident he could make three hundred, three thousand, even thirty thousand. Those numbers weren’t some distant dream.

The punks’ eyes lit up with hope. Their dreams were humble: as long as they could make thirty—no, even just twenty—they could help out at home.

"Let us talk it over. We’ll be quick."

The gang leader pulled his companions, and they limped off to the side to discuss it. Adrian Hawthorne wasn’t worried. He was sure they would agree, because they were desperate for the money.

"Sonny, why don’t we give it a shot? The worst that can happen is we waste a month. If we don’t make any money, we’ll just call in more guys and beat them to a pulp!"

"Yeah, let’s try it for a month. It’d be great if we can really make thirty."

The men exchanged glances and quickly came to an agreement. They all came from poor families and lacked the academic skills to change their destinies, leaving them with no choice but to become street punks. But being a punk wasn’t their ultimate dream. They all wanted a proper line of work.

"We’ll trust you for now. But if you’re trying to fool us, hmph, don’t even think about selling anything in Vessaria ever again." The gang leader tried his best to sound imposing; he felt he had to get a few tough words in.

"We’ll know in a month. Meet back in this alley at 8:30 tomorrow morning. Don’t be late."

Adrian Hawthorne didn’t elaborate. He gave Jim Thorne a sidelong glance, and the three of them walked out of the alley. A shout followed them. "Hey, be more specific! What are we doing tomorrow morning?"

"You’ll find out tomorrow morning. Don’t be late."

Adrian Hawthorne didn’t reply again. ’He couldn’t afford to be friendly with these punks. He had to be cold and ruthless, or he’d never be able to keep them under control.’