Back to 1958: Creating a Century-Long Family Empire

Chapter 45 – Shocking Results

The extermination project at Kowloon Wharf had officially begun.

The next day, Yang Wendong and Wang Zhixian walked together down a long, busy street just behind the port. Yang stopped at a small street stall, bought a few skewers of grilled meat, and handed one to Wang.

As they walked and ate, Yang said, "This place is thriving. Honestly, it's even more lively than the busiest streets in Tsim Sha Tsui."

Wang laughed. "Of course. Most of the dockworkers live nearby, and some of them make pretty good money—hundreds of dollars a month. Naturally, they spend it around here."

Yang nodded, glancing at the bustling surroundings. "There's no police or hawker control here?"

Wang smirked. "Of course not. You think the police run Hong Kong like it's theirs? This is Kowloon Wharf territory, land owned by Jardine Matheson. The only ones collecting fees here are the Wharf Group.

"You know there are a lot of triads around the port, but they mostly fight over manual labor jobs. The real power is in the hands of the foreign executives at the top. Even triad members don't dare cause trouble in this area.

"As for the police—unless there's a major criminal case, you'll only see a few patrol officers. And if any of them try to collect protection fees here, they'll be stripped of their uniforms by the next day."

"Impressive," Yang said with a chuckle.

The Hong Kong of the 1950s was notoriously dark—corruption was rampant, and police colluded with gangs.

But even the gangsters and corrupt officials were just dogs for the capitalists.

In fact, the Hong Kong colonial government was essentially controlled by British trading conglomerates like Jardine Matheson and Swire Group.

If Chinese locals had any space to operate in Hong Kong's "free market," it was only because the British Empire was already in decline and needed to co-opt the local elite to maintain order in its crumbling colonies.

As they walked, Wang added, "These work uniforms we're wearing—I borrowed them from a friend inside Kowloon Wharf. They show we're officially employed staff."

"No wonder the street vendors were all so friendly earlier," Yang said. "They were giving us discounts left and right. I was wondering why they were being so welcoming."

Wang nodded. "It's all about appearances. Even the gangsters who loiter around the docks don't mess with people in these uniforms."

"Very convenient," Yang agreed. Then he pointed ahead. "There they are—I see my team."

Up ahead, Zhao Liming, Su Yiyi, and the rest of the group from the shantytown were gathered in an open area, likely a former trash dump.

Now, the ground was covered in used glue boards, each one plastered with dead rats.

The sight made Yang's scalp tingle, but this was his business now—he had to get used to it.

"Brother Dong!" Su Yiyi waved the moment she saw him.

Yang and Wang walked over.

Yang looked around. "Looks like the glue boards are working really well."

Su Yiyi nodded. "Yes, incredibly well. The best one caught six rats—two big ones and four small ones. Must've been a whole family.

"Liming's over there recording the numbers and handling the point system. We're also continuing to hand out free boards."

"Well done," Yang said, then turned to Wang. "That point-based reward system you came up with for Kowloon Wharf is brilliant. Everyone's so motivated."

Wang grinned. "They're earning points that could land them better-paying jobs. It doesn't cost the company anything—they had to fill those positions anyway. Everyone wins."

Yang pointed toward the rat-filled area. "What about these?"

"I'll take the photos," Wang said.

He pulled a camera from his bag. The brand was unfamiliar to Yang, but just seeing the equipment made him instinctively take a few steps back.

In this era, a decent camera could easily cost as much as a small apartment. He didn't want to risk bumping into it.

Click!

Click!

Click!

Wang took shots from three different angles, then packed the camera away.

"Will that be enough evidence?" Yang asked.

"More than enough," Wang replied with a grin. "Even the police wouldn't document things this thoroughly."

"Can I get copies of the photos?" Yang asked. "Now that I have a company, these will be great for building our official history."

"Of course," Wang said. "Now, let's check out the docks."

Yang nodded. "Sure, but I doubt the results there will be as immediate. The real problem has always been the residential and commercial areas around the port. If we can clear those out, the docks will improve naturally."

"True," Wang agreed. He knew the dockside campaign would be slower.

Just as Yang predicted, when they arrived at the main dock area, the numbers weren't nearly as impressive.

The night before, over thirty workers had deployed various tools, but they only managed to catch forty rats.

Worse, they had spent half the night performing rectal sealing procedures on twenty of the larger rats.

Due to lack of experience, several died on the table.

Seeing that there weren't many dramatic results, Wang left early and headed to a nearby photo studio to develop the images.

He gave Yang a few prints and brought the rest to the office of An Yongqiang, the executive overseeing the project for Kowloon Wharf.

"I've never seen this many rats in one place," An said, flipping through the photos. He wasn't a pest control expert, but the sheer number of corpses left an impression.

"This," Wang said proudly, "is all thanks to Mr. Yang's invention. His glue boards are more effective than cages—and far cheaper."

An glanced at Yang. "Very impressive. If you manage to clean up the wharf quickly, I'll recommend you for future projects."

"Thank you, Mr. An," Yang said, bowing slightly.

The meeting didn't last long. An was a high-level executive; listening to their report was already a favor.

…

Over the next two weeks, the extermination project continued smoothly and efficiently.

The "surgery team" became more skilled with each passing day. Altogether, they were now performing over 100 procedures per day.

Glue boards were distributed across the surrounding neighborhoods, and many were returned the next day with multiple rats stuck to them.

The growing mountains of rat corpses became a gruesome, but undeniable, symbol of progress.

Everything was going according to plan.

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