[Chapter 840: The Resurgence of Downtown]
As the year drew to a close, the once-quiet streets of downtown were bustling again, reminiscent of the vibrant atmosphere that had been absent for years. The upscale shops in the city center looked quite appealing.
William White was a temporary worker hired by a consulting firm. Observing the taxis that occasionally zoomed by, he diligently took notes. Although he was earning only five dollars an hour, he remained meticulous. This was his third job, necessary to cover his high mortgage payments.
Overwork was a well-documented issue, especially in a busy city. William believed that the reason people managed to persevere was due to a handful of driven individuals like himself. There were similar consulting firms in America, but he had little interest in them. This kind of detailed and tedious work was best handled by locals who understood the scene.
With the economy struggling, residents of the city were also putting out small advertisements. They printed promotions on small packages of napkins and hired individuals to distribute them. He felt assured that the vast majority of people either took them home or tossed them, which was quite rare. No matter the hourly rate, they performed their tasks diligently.
William needed to determine if locals were still taking taxis and whether they were spending extravagantly in the upscale shops. He wanted to know the average expenditure during the year-end parties. Of course, those details were left to Fujita to manage. When he shared his thoughts with Filson, the guy's expression was priceless. He just couldn't grasp the importance of that data.
He wouldn't know that this type of information was crucial. In the early '90s, the brand-name stores downtown were always bustling. Taxis on the street? As soon as an empty one appeared, waves of people would rush to claim it.
The competition for taxis could be amusing. Typically, the position where a cab stopped determined who got it. Taxi drivers were no fools; they would gravitate toward those offering more cash. That was a local custom; elsewhere, it didn't operate the same way.
In Europe, whoever opened the door first got the ride. In America, it was best not to do that; it could lead to trouble fast.
William had to wonder why the local ride-sharing service had sprung up in the U.S. Aside from the shared economy trend, American taxi rides were usually point-to-point - from home to the office, or from home to a restaurant. After 8 PM, cabs were rarely cruising aimlessly. They waited at popular spots or near office buildings.
No-shows and refusals were commonplace, especially if passengers wanted to head toward rougher areas.
"William, how's it looking today?"
"Not bad. At this time last year, the streets were practically deserted. Hey, have you eaten yet, Tanaka?"
"Yeah, I grabbed a bite at 7-Eleven. You should take a look; I need a cigarette break."
"That's fine. The subway is still 15 minutes away, so take your time."
Tanaka had intended to say more but decided against it. Nowadays, in this city, it was best not to inquire about housing issues - that was considered extremely impolite.
As for the survey they were conducting, locals were quite accustomed to it. In fact, they had many similar orders. Don't just think about taxis; bars, clubs, and even places with attractive hostesses were also under scrutiny regarding customer spending habits.
What type of alcohol did they order, how long did they stay, were they members? Would they need a receipt? That wasn't at all the most absurd part; action movie companies also conducted similar research. Otherwise, how could they continually come up with fresh ideas?
These were market demands, or rather, the interests of certain demographics. Hollywood struggled to catch up because they lacked access to related data. For years, the handsome guys and blonde beauties filled the scenes, but in a simple overview, scripts from twenty years ago still worked today.
Holding the report in hand, though it wasn't finalized, it was coming together. Year-end parties for locals typically took place in the week leading up to Christmas. If bonuses were on the table, it was best to distribute them promptly; otherwise, how would employees arrange their holiday schedules?
He didn't need to look closely. The locals' spending in clubs had dropped to just a quarter of what it used to be a few years back. Think about it -- after spending a hefty amount on a membership card, they simply let it go.
What? Transfer it?
There were no eBay-like platforms for trading now. For William, that meant substantial losses, particularly with the expensive annual fees going unpaid.
"Filson, enthusiasm for spending is low; year-end bonuses aren't looking promising. The scariest part is employees claim satisfaction, indicating they'd accept reduced income as long as the company stayed afloat."
"Oh great, now they're even working extra hours. Filson, if your secretary has to moonlight as a waitress, shouldn't you consider giving her a raise?"
Filson could only smile bitterly; this was not the kind of situation anyone liked.
"Sir, I don't get why there's so much pressure. Rent is stable, and inflation is effectively negative. If property prices plummeted too drastically, they should just file for bankruptcy."
"Ah, you don't understand their mentality. The label of 'failure' weighs heavily on the locals.
In reality, many people have the capacity to spend, like the guys from the legendary world. Fujita told him that many chose to give their spouses control over finances instead. He even requested to allocate a portion of year-end bonuses in cash. I agreed."
"Handing money to your wife? Why?" Filson's eyes nearly bulged; he found that notion ridiculous.
"After marriage, the local women's responsibility often shifts to raising children. Once the kids are in high school or beyond, they might take on simpler jobs."
"Sir, are you kidding? If I had five kids, I'd be losing my mind."
"Nonsense! I pay you enough to take care of ten. Filson, the last bubble crisis was stirred up by the wives in this city. Only they can determine family spending."
"Wow, no wonder their data is so odd. Are these women scared?"
"Haha, that's the key! They're not buying LV or Prada. As for stocks and real estate, if they plan to cut ties, that'd be an interesting topic."
"Filson, considering this state of affairs, tell me -- does their economy have a future?"
"No, the capital utilization rate is shockingly low -- a rarity in high-income countries. I think our last move might have been a bit too bold."
"Let's wait and see. If subsequent reports continue in this vein, it won't just be investment; we might have to short-sell as well."
"Okay, I'll notify them. It looks like holiday plans are canceled."
"Filson, there are no holidays anymore. If I'm correct, the investor might be furiously shorting the stocks. That jerk must have known something ahead of time."
"Yeah, it's likely. Without financial injections, they wouldn't dare."
William shrugged, appearing somewhat indifferent. "Those backdoor dealings are infuriating. If possible, I'd report him. Damn, it's clearly insider trading."
Filson didn't feel like entertaining this irate fellow any longer. Mentioning inside information, he too had benefited.
However, that investor certainly wasn't to be underestimated. It was wise to keep an eye on that guy. Good grief, Wall Street was an evil den -- a kind-hearted person like him was a rare find.
*****
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