HLM – Chapter 224 The Fresh Meat Counter

After taking a sip, Wang Bo found that Jinro was indeed quite good—of course, only if you treated it like a beverage rather than an actual alcoholic drink.

It was a kind of “non-liquor” liquor, as it didn’t have the same level of alcohol content as traditional Chinese spirits.

Back then, Wang Bo enjoyed beer—it had a mild bitterness and aroma that suited his taste. Baijiu was too harsh, red wine too sour and astringent, and as for cocktails, those weren’t the kind of things one drank in everyday life.

Now he felt that Jinro was also excellent. It contained alcohol, but in low amounts, and had a sweet, mild taste. Its name—“Jinro,” which literally meant “true dew”—did indeed match its flavor: genuine and refreshing like morning dew.

Kim Jung-tae’s Korean BBQ was also amazing. Wang Bo praised it repeatedly, but Kim modestly said, “Thank you for your compliment, Mr. Mayor. Actually, what I made isn’t traditional Korean BBQ. I modified it slightly after researching New Zealanders’ taste preferences.”

Wang Bo gave him a thumbs-up. “No matter what you call it, this is fantastic. I really enjoyed it!”

“I enjoyed it too!”

“If the boss is happy, then I’m happy!”

“Sh*t! Atulu, stop eating and say something nice!”

“Hehe.”

The last one to chuckle was Hani. The auditor hadn’t eaten anything except for two glasses of plain water tonight—let alone touched any alcohol.

As the group prepared to leave, Wang Bo quickly pulled out his wallet and stuffed 400 bucks into Kim Jung-tae’s hand. Kim refused adamantly, saying, “Mr. Mayor, you’ve misunderstood. I didn’t invite you for a meal—I invited you to sample the flavors. I can’t possibly accept your money.”

Wang Bo tilted his head at Bowen beside him, signaling you handle this.

The Texan cowboy glared at the Korean proprietor and impatiently said, “The boss told you to take it, so just take it! Why so much nonsense?”

Kim Jung-tae instantly looked flustered and panicked.

Wang Bo also gave Bowen a glare—Not helpful. He turned back to Kim: “Boss Kim, this money is rightfully yours. Please accept it. We’ll be coming often in the future—your BBQ is that good. But if you don’t take the money, then we won’t come again.”

That worked. Kim Jung-tae had no choice but to accept. His wife, wearing a pale yellow hanbok, also came out and said, “Jung-tae, that was really impolite of you. How can you accept the mayor’s money?”

Wang Bo smiled and waved his hand, signaling his people to leave. Atulu cautiously asked, “Since Boss already paid, all this meat belongs to us now, right? Can we take it to go?”

Kim laughed. “If Chief Atulu enjoys it, he’s always welcome to come eat here. We’d be delighted.”

Hearing himself addressed as “Chief,” Atulu puffed up with pride and coughed. “Really? Oh my Maori God…”

Wang Bo’s cold gaze swept over, and the burly Maori man instantly shriveled back down. “I could never freeload. Boss Kim, please just pack it up for me. I can eat it for lunch tomorrow.”

Once they were in the car, Hani, who had been silent all this time, suddenly spoke. “Mayor, were you planning to pay from the beginning?”

“Of course,” Wang Bo replied. “I’m not some fascist Nazi soldier—how could I freeload off the residents of my own territory?”

Hani’s face twisted into a grotesque expression as he gritted his teeth. “Sh*t! Then why didn’t you say so earlier?! Why?! My God! I starved the whole damn night! All night! And you told me the boss was treating?!”

Wang Bo looked innocent. “I was just speaking casually. Does it make a difference? I was going to pay anyway.”

“If you’re hungry, isn’t there some BBQ meat and grilled bread packed to go?” Bowen chuckled.

Atulu hugged the takeout box tightly to his chest and gave Hani a wary look. “You’re an upright auditor. That’s food the boss paid for. If you eat it, it’s the same as accepting the boss’s hospitality.”

Hani lunged forward, grabbed a still-warm slice of grilled pork belly, and shoved it into his mouth, shouting between bites, “F*ck it! If Wang’s treating, why the hell can’t I eat?! It’s after work hours!”

Atulu didn’t dare argue. His flabby body trembled slightly as he looked longingly at the ravenous Hani. He could only weakly mumble, “Don’t eat too much, Hani. Eating late makes you gain weight…”

“F*ck that! I’m gonna eat every last bite! Down to the crumbs!”

“Oh, sh*t!”

After this BBQ dinner, Wang Bo’s view of the ranch changed dramatically. He suddenly realized that aside from Highway 8, the ranch itself could become a major attraction for local residents.

A well-run ranch could develop into an entire industry chain. It would need cowboys, veterinarians, and laborers. It could support butcher shops, transport businesses, restaurants, and slaughterhouses.

So, he decided to expand the ranch’s external supply and ran several ads in the small town. He didn’t just promote the cattle and sheep but also lesser-known poultry like chickens, ducks, and geese—hoping to build greater name recognition for the ranch’s quality meats.

Two days later, Anderson came to him with a sly look on his face. “Boss, I heard the ranch’s daily output is up?”

Wang Bo nodded. “That’s right. Why?”

Anderson grinned. “Well, since that’s the case, why don’t we set up a fresh meat counter in the convenience store? Chicken, duck, beef, lamb, pork—your ranch has it all.”

Wang Bo asked, “Is that necessary? Doesn’t your convenience store already have a freezer for meat?”

Anderson replied, “For a convenience store, sure, maybe not. But for a large supermarket? Absolutely necessary! We’re planning a big supermarket, remember?”

Wang Bo blinked. Right, we are.

Anderson continued, “And more importantly, Boss, your ranch’s meat is super popular. It can draw in a lot of customers. And once they’re in the store, they’re not just going to buy meat, right?”

Wang Bo blinked again. True enough.

“As the Maori saying goes, ‘You only know what you lack after going to the market.’ Once customers enter the store, they’ll realize they need sauces for stewing meat, cooking tools—at the very least. And boom, our sales go up!”

Wang Bo said, “Alright, you crafty merchant! We’ll do it your way!”

“No more direct meat sales from the ranch. Shut down the unmanned meat stalls. We’ll set up a fresh meat section in the convenience store and rake in profits!”

After Anderson left, Wang Bo informed the cowboys at the ranch that starting today, no more external sales. All chickens, ducks, cattle, and sheep would be slaughtered and supplied to the convenience store.

Ian was stunned. “Boss, you’re not expecting us to do the slaughtering, are you? That needs a proper slaughterhouse, and we don’t have one.”

Wang Bo shrugged. “Okay then, I’ll hire a few slaughter workers. Weekly salary of a thousand bucks. What do you think?”

The Beebe brothers scrambled to respond.

“Boss, eight hundred! Give us an extra eight hundred and we’ll do it!”

“Five hundred! We’ll take five hundred more a week and we’ll handle it!”

“F*ckin’ hell! Bastards! Four hundred! Take it or leave it!”

“We’ll take it! We’ll take it!”