HLM – Chapter 204 Buying Alpacas

While having lunch, Wang Bo and Carter finalized the development plans for the town’s internet infrastructure. Meanwhile, Charlie, Bowen and the others weren’t idle either—they found a repair shop that could fix their Jeep.

The repair shop was on the outskirts of the small city, set in an abandoned villa. The surroundings were quite pleasant—green grass and trees were still visible despite it being winter, making the scenery rather picturesque.

The owner was a white man named Jones, who always spoke with a cheerful smile. After inspecting the Jeep, he said there were quite a few issues and handed Wang Bo a list, asking if he wanted to go for a full overhaul.

Wang Bo looked over the list. Though it was labeled a “full repair,” aside from needing to replace part of the transmission, the other issues were relatively minor—mostly bodywork, an oil change, and similar small fixes. The total cost was $1,500, which wasn’t expensive.

So he signed the repair order and asked, “When can I pick up the car? I kind of need it urgently.”

Jones smiled and replied, “Three days. Come pick it up next Monday.”

Wang Bo was a little surprised. “Three days? That’s fast. Sounds great—thank you very much.”

Leaving the Jeep behind, they returned to the town.

Over the weekend, the network installation team from New Zealand Telecom arrived to begin work. Their quick response showed just how scarce their projects must be these days.

Carter accompanied the construction crew, and in private, he said, “We got lucky. The whole smart city initiative isn’t going so well. The company wants to turn your town into a showcase project for promotion.”

Wang Bo chuckled. “That’s great. We’d be happy to help—no problem supporting the publicity when the time comes.”

When Carter left, Wang Bo packed him off with a bunch of beef, lamb, chicken, and duck. If Carter had space for livestock, Wang Bo would’ve even given him a couple of lambs.

Carter accepted it with a smile. “I’ve heard several times that your ranch’s meat is excellent. I’m finally getting a chance to try it.”

On Sunday, Motak called. “Wang, I remember you were planning to get into alpaca farming, right? There’s an agricultural auction in Kurao next week. They’ll have some alpacas there—interested in checking it out?”

Wang Bo happily agreed. He was indeed planning to raise alpacas—and not just a few, but a whole herd.

In traditional animal husbandry, alpacas are extremely valuable. Their entire body is useful. Take their wool, for instance—it’s longer, shinier, and more elastic than regular sheep’s wool, and its quality and color are unmatched.

Currently, alpaca wool is the most valuable fiber in high-end fashion markets in Asia, Europe, and America. It’s twice as tough as sheep’s wool, contains no lanolin, and has very few impurities. Its clean fiber yield can reach 90%. The resulting clothes are lightweight, soft, comfortable, drape well, wrinkle-free, and retain their shape—making them a favorite among the wealthy.

According to Wang Bo’s research, each alpaca only produces about 3 to 5 kilograms of fiber per year, and they can only be shorn once annually. The wool sells for between 100 to 500 NZD per kilo. On average, just from fleece alone, each alpaca can generate around 1,000 NZD in revenue per year.

And that’s just one use. Although alpacas look cute, in South America, they were domesticated not for their looks but for transporting goods.

Lastly, their meat—surprisingly, in their native regions like South America and Oceania, alpacas are primarily raised for food, even though they’re adored as adorable creatures in China.

Alpaca meat is excellent—an all-purpose grazing animal raised for both wool and meat. Its taste falls between lamb and beef—without the gaminess of lamb, more robust than lamb, yet more tender than beef. Overall, it’s superior.

New Zealand didn’t traditionally consume alpaca meat, but the trend has caught on recently from South America. The rising demand has driven prices up to 200–300 NZD per kilo, much higher than beef or lamb.

So, given all that, why wouldn’t Wang Bo raise a lot of alpacas?

Of course, raising them in large numbers isn’t easy. There aren’t many alpacas in New Zealand, and even worldwide, there are only about 3 million. Over 95% of them live in the highlands of Peru and Chile in South America. Australia has the second-largest population, followed by New Zealand.

Stats show that New Zealand has fewer than 10,000 alpacas, and that number hasn’t increased in years.

As alpacas become more profitable, many ranches want to raise them, but they’re hard to breed. Breeding stock is expensive—the cheapest costs over 10,000 NZD per animal.

Moreover, alpacas only give birth once a year, and only one baby per birth. That single offspring might not even survive. All this makes growing their numbers even harder than humans.

After the cattle theft incident, Wang Bo had been wanting to raise alpacas, but he hadn’t had a good opportunity—until now. Hearing that the auction would feature alpacas, he wasn’t going to miss it.

On Monday, he first went to the repair shop to pick up his Jeep and then head to the auction.

But when he got there, the owner Jones smiled apologetically and said that over the weekend, a big order came in unexpectedly, so the Jeep wasn’t ready yet. He’d need two more days.

Wang Bo didn’t mind—attending the auction would take about two days anyway, so he’d deal with the car afterward.

The auction was held in a small town called Kurao, with a population of just over 2,000—so small that it would barely qualify as a village in China.

But that’s normal for New Zealand. After all, the whole country only has a population of about 4 million.

Kurao is a typical agricultural town—its residents are either farmers or ranchers, and its economy is driven entirely by agriculture and animal husbandry.

The alpacas were being sold off by a large ranch that had been raising 400 of them. Due to a rare drought in the South Island, many farms were hit hard with livestock dying of thirst.

Compared to cattle and sheep, alpacas are delicate. They require high-quality pastures and have poor resistance to disease. So despite their high value, their numbers haven’t grown much.

It’s not that ranchers don’t want to raise more, it’s just too difficult, too costly, and too risky.

Wang Bo went to Kurao with Motak. When they arrived, they first tried the town’s famous seasonal hand-crafted dark beer. It was strong—Motak liked it, but Wang Bo only took a few sips before stopping.

Seeing he couldn’t handle it, the server brought over a large glass of black beer. Wang Bo asked, “What kind of dark beer is this? Is it a strong stout?”

Strong stouts are also a well-known local beer, favored by cowboys and farmers who need a stiff drink after a hard day’s work.

The server smiled. “No, this is Ethiopian Coffee Beer. You should try it. It’s got a higher ABV and carries the aroma of both coffee and beer. It might suit your taste better.”

Wang Bo took a sip—it was indeed mild, with the bittersweet fragrance of coffee. The dense foam carried an even richer aroma.