HLM – Chapter 931 The Real Estate Agent Comes Knocking

Wang Bo looked at him in surprise. “Yes, the farm belongs to me. And you are?”

It was late summer, early autumn, and the weather was scorching hot, yet this man was dressed in a crisp suit and even wore a tie. Though he was drenched in sweat, he still maintained a polite, refined posture.

Just from his appearance, Wang Bo could tell he was definitely an agent—what people in China would call a zhongjie. As for which industry he worked in, that wasn’t clear yet.

Sure enough, the middle-aged man pulled out a business card and handed it to him respectfully. “Hello, sir. I am a real estate agent from The Warehouse Group. May I have three minutes of your time to speak with you?”

The Warehouse Group was New Zealand’s largest retail company. Its food division operated KFC, Pizza Hut, Starbucks, Carl’s Jr., and other international fast-food chains in the country.

However, the company didn’t just operate retail and fast food. It also branched into various sectors—including real estate. They had the largest number of real estate agents nationwide and controlled 40% of New Zealand’s second-hand property market.

Wang Bo nodded. “Of course. What’s the matter?”

Licensed agents in New Zealand were not disliked the way they often were elsewhere. In fact, the profession was considered to have high ethics—different from the situation in many countries. Of course, many immigrants had been tricked before, but those were unlicensed black-market agents.

Proper agents had to be licensed, especially real estate sellers and insurance agents. The former handled huge transactions, the latter handled specialized ones, and both required strong professional competence.

After receiving Wang Bo’s permission, the agent began introducing himself, showing his REAA license as he spoke.

This license was essential for legitimate real estate agents. According to New Zealand regulations, agents must be certified to work. For example, becoming a junior apprentice required about three months of coursework and graduating successfully.

After graduation, the REAA issued an official license. It was the only regulatory body authorized to issue real estate agent certificates in New Zealand. Only with its approval could someone legally take clients into the market.

Wang Bo examined it and nodded. The agent then continued, “I heard from a friend that you purchased this farm not long ago, is that correct? Well, I have a client who is very interested in your farm. He wants to know if you would consider letting it go.”

This gave Wang Bo a headache.

He bought Vince’s farm precisely to flip it for profit. Vince had been short on money and sold it below market value, so Wang Bo’s purchase price had also been low.

But in the past year, no one had made an offer. So he invested in fruit trees, started his big orchard project, and put a lot of money into surveillance systems.

And now—right after he finished investing—someone wanted to buy it?!

Wang Bo asked first, “How much does this client want to offer?”

“6.8 million NZD,” the agent said. “No loan—cash purchase. In other words, as long as you nod, you’ll receive 6.8 million in cash within fifteen days.”

Hearing the price, Wang Bo laughed. He bought it for 6.4 million. Selling it now for a 400,000 profit seemed like a decent business. After all, 90% of farms in Kurau wouldn’t earn that much in a year.

But he had already invested more than 400,000 into the orchard. Selling now was pointless.

So he shook his head. “Sorry. You’re an experienced agent, so you should know the bank valued this place at seven million three years ago. And now you want to offer six point eight?”

The agent smiled. “I understand. But first—farms haven’t appreciated much in the past three years. Many are even cheaper now. Second, I heard you planted a lot of fruit trees. That actually lowers the property value.”

“Why?”

“Because Kurau’s soil isn’t suitable for producing fruit. Anyone who buys this farm would have to uproot all the trees and re-plan the land for crops. That would be a significant extra cost, wouldn’t it?”

Wang Bo felt his head throb. But this made things easier—he didn’t want to sell anyway.

“Forget it then,” he said. “I don’t plan to sell the farm. Maybe when someone wants to buy a large orchard, they can come find me. And as for the fruit quality? I’d bet with you—my orchard will produce excellent fruit.”

Those fruit trees were irrigated with spirit spring water, something even the vegetables in his garden didn’t get. He was certain the fruit would be extraordinary.

Since the conversation was going nowhere, Wang Bo prepared to leave.

Seeing this, the agent quickly said, “Sir, just one more minute. Please allow me to say a few more words.”

“Go ahead.”

“I checked the records. Your farm has four separate land titles, covering five rural zones, correct? I wonder if you’d consider selling one or two of those titles. I also have clients who want to buy smaller farms.”

Indeed, Vince’s farm was huge—980 acres—with four land titles.

What did that mean?

It meant that under New Zealand’s land laws, the farm could be sold in four separate parcels.

In fact, the property could be further subdivided into twenty titles with some administrative work. This made selling or using it as collateral far more flexible.

But Wang Bo didn’t want to split it. He shook his head. “I don’t want a stranger becoming my neighbor.”

The agent asked, “Alright then… may I ask how much you would want for the whole farm?”

Wang Bo shrugged. “Maybe… eight million would be a reasonable price?”

He had invested nearly a million already, and even selling now would only net him 500–600k. At his current financial level, that wasn’t meaningful.

Still, the original purpose of buying the farm was to resell it for profit, so if the right buyer came along, he could still sell.

“Understood,” the agent said. “I will report this price to my client.”

“Is that necessary?” Wang Bo asked. “He doesn’t even like orchards. He’d have to invest so much more.”

The agent smiled. “Actually… what he likes is precisely the orchard.”

Wang Bo almost raised his middle finger. Who said New Zealand agents were all ethical? These guys were just as crafty.

Arriving at Kurau’s civic hall, he saw a huge cluster of cars parked outside. Wang Bo made a call, and Leonard came out, spreading his arms with a laugh.

“Welcome to the dairy cattle auction!”