Chapter 128 Auction Turmoil (Revised)
This was a tailor-made auction.
After investing countless hours and money in Irbuyate, He Changyi finally reaped the rewards at the end of summer.
But gains don't always mean joy.
Just as farmers not only have to drive away wild boars that come down from the mountains to steal food during the autumn harvest, but also have to deal with city people who claim "I thought this was unwanted," He Changyi also has to find a way to protect the fruits of her labor.
For an oil company with proven reserves worth billions of dollars, once the news of its impending auction spreads, all the warrant funds controlled by Russia's richest and most powerful will rush to Irbyat, not to mention the wealthy European and American conglomerates. Even if they were watching lap dances in a Paris nightclub one second, the next they would be boarding fighter jets and parachuting to this small border town.
He Changyi tirelessly renovated all the dilapidated houses in the city and even gifted the old foxes in the city hall their favorite villas. This was not to hand over the oil company to others and benefit them.
Even if Andrei's own father came, he wouldn't be able to take him away from her. Even if you tied Andrei with a bow and sent him to her bed, it wouldn't work!
Mayor Smolensky, that cunning old bureaucrat, realized that he couldn't simply use and discard He Changyi and the people behind her, so he simply relinquished the power to set the auction rules and handed it all over to her.
In other words, if He Changyi still fails to win the bid for the oil company, then she can only blame herself, since the mayor has already dutifully put the athlete on the referee's bench.
He Changyi didn't stand on ceremony and immediately had people tailor-make auction rules based on the characteristics of the Baiyang Foundation.
For example, bidders should be warrant funds established in 1993 and possess more than four million warrants; bidders are required to provide more than five cases of state-owned enterprise privatization auctions and obtain controlling stakes, actually participating in the operation and management of the enterprises; bidders are also required to provide audited financial reports for the most recent two years, and so on.
For private companies that are growing wildly at this time, what do audits and financial reports matter? Who would be so foolish as to put a noose around their own neck? Shouldn't the company naturally be the boss's wallet?
Furthermore, which boss would allow an external auditing firm to dabble in their money? This is a million times worse than someone sticking their hand down their pants; at least they wouldn't have Alexander's secrets hidden in their underwear.
The most effective rule to deter competitors is that warrant funds must distribute dividends to all investors in the most recent calendar year, and the total dividend amount must not be lower than that of similar companies in the market.
This rule may seem insignificant, but it is ruthless enough to kill in one fell swoop.
Because most warrant funds do not intend to provide any returns to investors, once they acquire a company, the controlling shareholder will quickly sell the company's most valuable assets to another company under their name at a price far below market value. This is a classic case of transferring value from one hand to the other, diverting it from the publicly held fund to the controlling shareholder's personal pocket. Alternatively, they may require the acquired company to purchase equipment or services from a company designated by the controlling shareholder at a high price, and then sell the products to the same company at a price far below market value, effectively transferring all profits and leaving only the loss-making company and investors who receive no dividends.
Only a "foolish" fund company like Baiyang Fund would distribute perfectly good money to investors.
Even though He Changyi was very confident in the ethical standards of warrant funds on the market, just to be on the safe side, she requested that the auction announcement be published in the local newspaper in Irbuyat, and only one week in advance.
Even if the warrant fund noticed the auction announcement, the extremely short preparation time meant they wouldn't have enough time to bribe everyone in the city hall.
Before the auction began, He Changyi was like a fierce lioness, eyeing every possible enemy.
Alexei sharply commented: "You look more like a Rosian than a Rosian now."
He Changyi raised an eyebrow, looking at him questioningly. Alexei considerately explained:
"In terms of operating behind closed doors, it looks like you've been personally instructed by the league bureaucrats."
He Changyi rolled her eyes without any politeness.
"Yes, I have learned so much in this university of life in Oros. I can hardly imagine how pure and kind I was as a little girl back home."
"Purity? Kindness?"
Alexei objectively stated, "I think even in China, you're the most ruthless one."
He Changyi stood on tiptoe and viciously strangled Alexei's neck.
"You talk too much. Get back to work, or I'll show you what real ruthlessness is."
Alexei bent down cooperatively so that she could hang it more easily around his neck.
"Very well, Your Majesty, everything is as you wish."
The auction venue was located in the remote wilderness far from the city of Irbuyat. Within a radius of 100 kilometers, the density of wolves far exceeded the population density. If a car broke down or the gas tank ran out, the wolves would have to eat canned food.
Even so, some bidders still traveled long distances to the venue, rushing to the entrance with hastily prepared documents.
"I'm from the XX Foundation. We're here to participate in the auction. The city hall has already approved our foundation's eligibility!"
The security guards in suits at the entrance exchanged glances, and a guy who seemed to be the leader walked over and nodded to the lucky bidder.
"Show me your identification."
The bidder handed over his credentials, which the lead security guard glanced at casually and then threw back.
"Let's go, your name isn't on the list."
The bidder exclaimed urgently, "Impossible! You must have made a mistake! The mayor's secretary personally added our foundation's name to the auction list!"
"The mayor's secretary?"
The head security guard raised his eyebrows in surprise and asked, "Could it be that the mayor also told you about the auction?"
The bidder neither admitted nor denied it, looking arrogantly at the other side.
"You don't want to know about our fund's background. No matter who is here today, the ultimate winner will be our fund."
The lead security guard exclaimed "Wow!" in surprise, then waved his hand, and all the security personnel surrounded him.
"You bastard... well, sir."
The head of security revealed a great white shark-like smile: "You need to understand one thing, this is not your foundation's office, nor is it Mosk. No matter what your background is, you may indeed be a big shot, but now, you have to follow our rules."
The bidder nimbly took a step back, raising his hand to signal, and his bodyguards immediately moved to the front.
"Don't misunderstand, I don't want to hurt anyone, but I absolutely have to participate in today's auction."
The two sides faced off, the atmosphere tense, and the bodyguards on both sides were just short of drawing their guns and exchanging fire.
At that moment, a young man wearing a hat stepped in, his brown eyes darting back and forth between the two.
"Calm down, everyone. This is just an auction, not a war zone in the Middle East."
He had a smile on his face and spoke in a very light and cheerful voice.
"Our mayor never disappoints. Look, another friend has passed the qualification review. Is he busy making phone calls and stamping qualification review forms all day in his office?"
The bidder asked warily, "Who are you?"
The boy in the hat said, "Me? I'm just a nobody. Call me whatever you like, Katz, Bogd, whatever."
The bidder said, “Mr. Katz, I don’t want to cause any bloodshed, but now that I’m here, I can’t go back to Mosk empty-handed. I hope you and your friends can understand, after all, I’m just an ordinary nobody.”
Mr. Katch nodded understandingly: "I understand, of course I understand. Although there are indeed many wolves here, we can't always feed people to the wolves..."
The bidder's expression changed, and he subtly gestured to his bodyguards, instantly triggering a series of safety clicks.
The atmosphere became even more tense, and the air seemed to be filled with the smell of blood.
Mr. Katch panicked at the sight and was about to jump up and down, so he quickly said, "You're too nervous, I was just joking!"
The bidder retorted sternly, "Do you think I'm joking with you?!"
Mr. Katz sighed helplessly: "Alright, alright... but I must tell you beforehand that outsiders are not welcome here, and there may be serious consequences if you make any bids arbitrarily."
The bidder coldly interrupted him.
"Serious consequences? I've heard that threat a hundred times! Get out of my way!"
Mr. Katch slumped his shoulders in frustration and gestured for the security personnel to make way.
The head security guard exclaimed urgently, "No, we can't just let them in like this!"
"Do you think you can stop them?"
Under the brim of his hat, Mr. Katch winked at him discreetly.
"Sigh, that's all we can do for now. You don't really want a gunfight to break out outside the auction, do you? That would make headlines across the country for the next week!"
The head security guard looked at him, then at the arrogant bidder, and finally reluctantly put away his gun, ordering, "Let them in."
The bidder, accompanied by bodyguards, walked proudly into the venue.
Despite the auction venue's remote location—even the most desolate collective farm would have seemed more lively—the venue was extremely comfortable, with luxurious chairs, soft lighting, and a professional auctioneer.
After entering the venue, the bidder habitually looked around at his surroundings. When he saw a few familiar faces, he first breathed a sigh of relief, then tensed up, bristled like a fighting rooster, and stormed to his seat.
"It's you again."
The old acquaintance curled his lip and said unhappily, "Why do I always see you at auctions? It's really unfortunate."
The bidder sneered, "Don't you have anywhere else to go? You're even going to a small place like Irbuyat. Is your fund about to go bankrupt?"
"Bankruptcy?" the old acquaintance mocked. "If you still don't have self-awareness by now, I truly feel sorry for your boss. Think about it, how many times have you failed in the past few auctions?"
The bidder was furious, but forced himself to suppress it, like an angry Shar-Pei.
"Let's see who the final winner is this time."
The old acquaintance said disdainfully, "Then I wish you've brought enough warrants, and hope your fraudulent fund can still swindle one last warrant from foolish investors."
The bidder retorted, "I also hope that next time you can successfully escape with 700,000 vouchers instead of being beaten to death by a frenzied mob."
The two men loathed each other, exhaled heavily through their noses, and angrily turned their heads away.
The process was just as familiar to them from previous auctions for the privatization of state-owned enterprises: introducing the rules, introducing the basic information of the auction company, reviewing the bidders' qualification documents, submitting bids, announcing the bidding results, ranking the bids from highest to lowest and confirming the settlement price, announcing the auction results, and signing the auction confirmation form...
When the long and drawn-out auction finally came to an end, eleven hours had passed, darkness had fallen, and everyone was exhausted and hungry.
The bidder, forcing himself to stay composed, said smugly to an old acquaintance, "Let's see who the final winner is."
The old acquaintance retorted, not to be outdone, "Victory? You only got a mere 21% of the shares, with each share settled at one and two-thirds of a warrant. Can that really be considered a victory?"
The bidder's face darkened, and he said unhappily, "Of course this is a victory! Compared to you who only got 15% of the shares, isn't this a victory?!"
The third person chimed in with a smile: "Gentlemen, we are all winners, of course. We managed to squeeze into this hidden table in just one week. No matter how much of the pie we end up taking, it's a complete victory, isn't it?"
The bidder and the old acquaintance turned their heads in a shared sense of righteous indignation, forcefully exhaling a breath from their noses.
—That damn guy, he suddenly appeared from the corner of the venue and snatched 35 percent of the shares from their hands!
As night fell, the faint howling of wolves echoed through the wilderness, sometimes near, sometimes far, like a horn signaling the start of dinner.
The bidders, acquaintances, and a third party had no time to argue. They hurriedly got into their cars and urged the drivers to drive faster, as they didn't want to spend the night in the wilderness!
As the bidder passed the security personnel at the entrance, he deliberately stopped and said to them, "Now, who exactly is the unwelcome one?"
Before the security guards could object, he laughed and got into his car. He rolled down the window and threw the smallest denomination ruble on the ground.
"Thank you for your hard work. Here's a tip, go buy yourself a drink!"
Cars drove into the night, their headlights becoming distant dots until they disappeared completely.
Someone picked up the banknote from the ground with a flashlight and blew off the dust.
"It seems that besides their brains, they did leave behind some useful things."
The head security guard asked, "Shall we begin now?"
The young man wearing the hat said cheerfully, "Of course."
The flashlight beam shone on his face, making his brown eyes appear as if they were edged with gold.
The venue doors closed, the outdoor lights went out, and with a clang, the padlock was hung on the door.
The auction has only just begun.
The bidder returned to Irbuyat, and while he was taking a bath in the most expensive hotel room in the city, there was a sudden, loud knocking on the door.
The bidder said impatiently, "No, we don't need room service right now!"
However, the knocking became more and more urgent, until it was almost like kicking the door down.
The bidder stood up from the bathtub, cursing and swearing. He grabbed a bathrobe from the side, wrapped it around himself, and walked barefoot and wet to the door. He impatiently opened the door.
"I said I don't need room service!"
However, standing outside the door were not the new cleaning lady, nor the night shift worker waiting to start her shift, but rather a panicked old acquaintance and a third person.
The bidder asked suspiciously, "What's wrong with you? Did you lose the auction confirmation?"
The old acquaintance, his face ashen, said, "It's a million times worse than this! Did you even see that list?"
Instead of answering, the bidder asked, "What have you discovered?"
The old acquaintance angrily cursed, "You idiot! You didn't notice anything at all!"
The third person was slightly calmer, but still appeared to have lost his composure.
"We've all been scammed!"
The bidders were increasingly confused, completely baffled, and a bad feeling was rising in their hearts.
The two guys in front of him were certainly not good people, much less his friends. If he were to make a list of people he wanted to assassinate, their names would definitely be in the top three.
But they're not fools, and they certainly wouldn't team up for a prank, so something must be wrong...
The bidder turned and left, opened his locked suitcase, took out a tightly sealed auction document bag, tore open the seal, and pulled out the precious auction result slip.
He looked at it carefully again and again, confirming that he had indeed won the bid for 21 percent of the shares of Irbuyat Oil Company.
"What the hell are you all doing?!"
The bidder said unhappily, "If you're just joking, I'll show you the consequences of making jokes!"
An old acquaintance snatched the precious transaction slip from his hand. The bidder's heart jumped into his throat. He caught a glimpse of a fruit knife on the table and instinctively grabbed it.
But the old acquaintance didn't try to tear up the transaction slip as he expected. Instead, he pointed repeatedly at the lines of text on it and shouted excitedly, "Didn't you see it?! Look, look!"
The bidder paused, slowly lowered the fruit knife, but still held it firmly in his hand.
He hesitated before stepping forward, glancing warily at the old acquaintance and the third person, before finally looking at the line of text pointed out on the transaction slip.
It was a line of text so small that even a mosquito would need a magnifying glass to see it. The bidder squinted and carefully examined it for a long time before he could make out what it said.
"The subject of this auction is Irbuyat Petroleum...Sales Company? hereinafter referred to as 'Petroleum Company'?"
The bidder was stunned and subconsciously asked, "What sales company?"
The familiar man slammed the transaction slip to the ground. The light piece of paper floated in the air, and the bidders hurriedly reached out to grab it, while the third person beside him spoke in a calm tone, as if he had been dead for seven days.
"That means we acquired an oil sales company, not an oil company. Ha, a sales company that specializes in selling Irbuyat oil! Its entire assets consist of only a rented office, a landline, and thirteen employees who need to be paid!"
The bidder paused, and the notification slip slipped from his hand, slowly falling to the ground.
He was practically dumbfounded. He opened his mouth, his throat extremely dry, and after a long while, he managed to squeeze out a sentence: "So, the oil company's shares... the auction results..."
An old acquaintance sneered: "Equity? Auction results? We've all been played!"
The bidder looked as if he had been struck by lightning; water droplets kept flowing down his forehead, whether from his wet hair or his sweat, it was hard to tell.
He suddenly jumped up and rushed outside wearing only a bathrobe.
"No, that's not it! There must be something wrong here. I can't just go back to Mosk like this!"
Only an old acquaintance and a third person remained in the room; no one spoke, and it was as quiet as a tomb.
"Oil sales company..."
A third person's voice suddenly rang out; he was even laughing, though it was unclear whether he was laughing at himself or at the other bidders.
He turned and left, stepping on the transaction slip on the ground, leaving a blurry shoe print.
The old acquaintance, head bowed, stared at the transaction slip that bore witness to the hard work of the three of them. Suddenly enraged, he squatted down and tore the beautifully crafted paper to shreds.
"Ha, an auction... damn auction!"
When the bidders, dressed in bathrobes, arrived again at the auction venue in the desolate wilderness, the surroundings were quiet and deserted, and the rising sun shone on the iron lock hanging on the door.
"Where are they? Where did everyone go? I want to attend the auction, do you hear me? I want to attend the oil company's auction!"
His voice was more shrill than a wolf's howl, the iron gate rattled as it was shaken, and a thin wolf peered out from afar.
An old gatekeeper in worn-out work clothes slowly walked out of the gatehouse and waved to the seemingly frantic bidders.
"There was no auction. The auction ended a long time ago, sir. Please go back."
One bidder pressed, "Why did it end? Wasn't yesterday's auction for the sales company? Where was the oil company's auction?!"
The old man patiently replied, "It's right after the sales company's auction ends. If you remember the auction announcement, you should know that the oil company's auction is at nine o'clock."
The bidder shouted, "Nine o'clock, of course it's nine o'clock! Just in case, I arrived at eight o'clock!"
The kind old man said, "No, of course you didn't. I remember it clearly. Your car left at eight o'clock."
The bidder was stunned, muttering, "...Eight o'clock? My car leaves? But isn't that nighttime?"
The old man said with pity, "Yes, it's at night. Don't you know that the oil company's auction starts at nine o'clock at night?"
The bidder's vision blurred, and in the darkness, he seemed to see the auction notice: "[The Irbuyat Oil Company Auction will be held on [date] at 9:00 AM]."
Nine o'clock, nine o'clock... not nine o'clock in the morning, but nine o'clock in the afternoon?!
He seemed to have all his strength drained away; his grip on the iron gate railing slipped, and he collapsed to the ground in a disheveled state.
—So the oil company's auction was held at 9 p.m.?
So the auction he attended with such high spirits, which was held at nine in the morning, was just an auction by the sales company?
—After paying a high price, his final result was only 21 percent of the sales company's equity?
The bidder could see nothing and completely lost consciousness.
Meanwhile, in the mayor's office in Irbuyat.
"Your Excellency Mayor, thank you for your assistance. The oil company's auction has been successfully completed."
He Changyi said with a smile, "Without you, it's hard to imagine how I could have won against so many strong competitors."
Mayor Smolensky was extremely calm, as if he were genuinely trying to help.
“Miss He, you are too kind. I was just doing my job. It was all thanks to your own efforts. Oh, and Mr. Alexei too. If he were willing to step in, I think everything would have gone much more smoothly.”
He Changyi said, "Yes, you did your job well and informed all the people of Mosk about the auction. I think if it weren't for the short preparation time, not only Mosk, but probably the whole of Oros would have come to participate."
Mayor Smolensky's expression was like a mask.
"For the sake of fairness and the rules, we must act in accordance with the rules."
He Changyi stopped laughing, stared at him, and said, word by word:
"Mayor Smolensky, I will always remember your great kindness."
Mayor Smolensky picked up his teacup and gave her a more genuine, and more arrogant smile.
"When I'm sitting in my White House office with tea soon, I won't forget you."
He Changyi stared at him for a while, then stood up and said politely:
"I hope your good mood lasts until Mosk; perhaps you'll start to miss Irbyat soon enough. All in all, it was a very pleasant collaboration, wasn't it?"
After He Changyi left the office with light steps, Mayor Smolensky stopped smiling and looked suspicious.
...For some reason, I have a bad feeling.
Mayor Smolensky shook his head, banishing the inappropriate feeling from his mind.
Whatever that premonition may be, he's finally leaving Irbuyat!
Mosk, he's here!
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