A New Plan
Henry wanted to deny reality. It can't be. There's no way the system is that much of a scumbag. Clinging to that sliver of hope, he picked up the receiver again and called Gilberto.
"Gilberto, it's me. In addition to what I said before, distribute another thirty-eight thousand dollars. Set the tax at exactly nineteen thousand and pay it immediately. Report back once it's done."
He was being this obsessive for two reasons. The first was to confirm that taxes filed under his personal name translated directly into points. The second was to verify whether any "fractional points" existed that the system simply wasn't displaying.
The previous fifty-one thousand dollars in taxes plus this new nineteen thousand would total exactly seventy thousand. If the exchange rate was one point per ten thousand dollars and fractions could be combined, he should have had seven points.
Remaining Points: 6
Fuck... It's confirmed. Personal-name taxes. No decimals, no rounding, nothing—just a straight flooring system.
Henry clutched his head, crying tears of blood in his heart. His mind was already a hopeless tangle of knotted thread.
Wow... ah... Jesus God damn. Fuck...
He would have to rebuild the entire plan from the ground up. If he wanted to squeeze out every last point with his soul on the line, every cash-cow venture he was about to launch—the game console business, futures trading, Watts' Orange, the acquisition of the CNC and ESTN cable networks—would all have to be conducted under his personal name.
But here came the worst obstacle. The moment he funneled the trust's massive capital into personal investments, he would trigger "self-dealing" violations that the IRS watched with hawk eyes.
Under these brutal regulations that forced the trust and the individual to operate as complete strangers, how was he supposed to mass-produce points?
With a cheat key like a family trust right in front of me, I have to jump into hell difficulty with nothing but my bare body. Isn't the difficulty a little too high here...
At this point, the trust was nothing more than future insurance to pass on to his real descendants. What he needed to grow right now was his personal fortune. Sure, the tax rate for high earners was insane, approaching seventy percent. But if he steadily built up assets under his own name, points should never be in short supply.
The problem was public perception. To shake off the "inherited rich kid" label, he would need personal PR on a scale that would make even Trump blush. Only after completing the narrative of "a genius entrepreneur who built everything from nothing without family help" could he step into the spotlight, take less flak, and justify the taxes he poured out for points.
Of course there would be plenty of backbiting and relentless IRS audits, but this was the best option available.
Yet the biggest issue, as he'd thought earlier, was that his current personal assets were laughably insufficient to orchestrate such a massive board.
What do I even have in my name right now... Eighty thousand dollars in cash and one building smack in the middle of a red-light district crawling with drug dealers? Fuck, I'm actually tearing up.
There was a way to create seed money through massive dividends, but that was impossible. The previous hundred thousand and forty thousand had been pocket change compared to the family's total assets, so he'd been able to twist their arms. If he tried pulling that stupid stunt on a large scale, the family elders would probably clutch their hearts and collapse.
I can't use the trust's capital as an accelerator, and I can't casually receive support from the family office either. I can already see the IRS bastards throwing a fit later, asking whether they helped my personal company or not. And if I pay every single tax on time, my asset growth will be slower than a turtle crawling. Fuck...
"Ha... Hooo."
Henry let out a long sigh and calmed his excitement. Then he calmly wracked his brain for the advantages of this tax-paying hell.
Advantages, huh... Now that I know the exact route for acquiring points, I can level up and create clones? And since I'm paying taxes honestly, I don't have to worry about the IRS watching me? Is that... all?
At that moment, a thought flashed through Henry's mind. If he was going to step into the spotlight anyway, there was no need to move cautiously.
"Shall we start big?"
Henry immediately ran to the family's secret vault. He pulled out the compiled list of future events he'd written down in advance. His eyes raced across the text mixed with Korean and code. Inside that sheet of paper slept the massive waves of history.
Yeah, fuck it. Stepping forward actually feels refreshing.
If his old plan had been that of a secretive, cautious recluse tycoon, the new one would be a flashy, overwhelming Iron Man style. The risk was huge, but the return was certain. It was absolute madness. Henry swallowed dryly as he stared at the sentence he'd copied into his notebook.
Starting from 1979, I'll go all out to inflate my personal seed money until the 1985 Plaza Accord. Then I'll head to Japan, ride the peak of the bubble, and get out. If I do that, my points will be... wow, I might as well become a god.
The Plaza Accord—a turning point in history that everyone knew. The yen, which had fluctuated between 240 and 280 per dollar, would skyrocket to the 120 range in just one year after the agreement. Japan right now was truly at the peak of its overgrowth. Simply getting a foot in the door during this period was like stepping into a gold mine where success was guaranteed no matter what you did.
Especially if he used his future knowledge to properly execute real estate land banking, becoming one of the richest people in history within ten years would be a done deal.
The most important fact was that this future was something Henry could not change no matter how much of a butterfly effect he caused.
Japan, huh... In the novels, foreign capital faced insane wariness during this period. What kind of bait would be enough to disarm those arrogant bastards' suspicion? Preferably something that aligns perfectly with my future businesses.
What Henry had learned from both the novels and real life was that the core of capitalism was "give and take." Give ten cents, receive something worth ten cents. Even if the Japanese government was exclusive, if he threw them what they craved most, he could pry open the firmly shut door.
That's right—satellites! Broadcasting satellites! Wasn't the first satellite Japan launched going to break down soon?
If you knew the future, finance was obviously the most profitable field, but that required specialized knowledge. The original key business Henry—a former ordinary salaryman—had chosen in his plan was far more intuitive and certain. It was a Hollywood production company.
Movies are obvious winners just from their titles. You don't even need genius senses—if you just film the original story as is, it's guaranteed to be a hit. Plus, the actresses that come to mind when you think of Hollywood tycoons, the sex scandals... Heh, this is the true essence of a tycoon story.
The roadmap after growing his initial capital in Hollywood was also clear. The hegemony of the 80s and 90s media market depended on broadcasting satellites. Cable channels that couldn't ride satellite broadcasts were doomed to remain at the level of mediocre local stations. In his previous life's novels, satellite companies were always depicted as absolute "alpha among alphas" wielding omnipotent power.
There's already The Times with its established satellite broadcasting network. If I swallow up additional satellite companies on top of that, the board is basically over. I'll lay down cable infrastructure, comfortably use satellite broadcasting, and later expand into internet business using communication infrastructure. This is basically raking in money with a rake.
Moreover, Henry's role model was clear: Comcast. The giant dinosaur that dominated the so-called "triple network" of internet, landline phones, and cable broadcasting, then swallowed up the NBC broadcast network, Universal, and even the British Sky broadcasting group.
Comcast was still ruling the world in 2026. I'll have to pave that path a little faster and more decisively!
That plan had already gone completely out the window, but Henry possessed quite a lot of knowledge on the subject. That's why satellites had immediately come to mind.
He recalled the tycoon novels he'd read with deep impression. He didn't know the technical processes of manufacturing satellites, but core events—when which satellite broke down, which company changed the market landscape—were all databased in his head.
Acquire a satellite business and sell it to Japan as is? Japan is desperate for broadcasting satellites right now because of the Olympics, so using an acquisition target and my trust as collateral to secure a loan would be child's play. Use that to build favor with the Japanese government, create connections with major corporations, then seat one of my clones as a straw president to preempt Japanese real estate? This is seriously fucking sweet.
On the surface it might look like a gamble carrying overwhelming risk, but to Henry—who held the answer sheet of the Plaza Accord and the greatest real estate bubble in history—there was no such thing as risk. If anything, he needed to be even more aggressive.
If he went all-in on dollar loans with the mindset of it's Japan anyway, stockpiled ammunition, and paid it back after the yen's value exploded following the Plaza Accord? He might even be able to clear the principal and interest using only profits from Japanese businesses. And if he managed to "run" right before the bubble burst at its peak?
Just thinking about it sent a thrilling shiver through him. Henry's Adam's apple bobbed noticeably as he swallowed hard.
This is it. This is the one! If I run it like this, pulling in a million points per year in taxes alone (ten billion dollars in taxes) wouldn't be a dream!
Henry carefully stored both the notebook containing his existing plan and the sheet filled with Korean-code combinations back in the family vault before returning to his office. The happy smile on his lips refused to fade.
The most important thing right now is the satellite business. What available targets can I handle? The one the novel's protagonist ate—Hughes? They're already into defense now, so the price tag would be too high. Ah, if only this were the early 70s like the protagonist, I could've just snatched it. This will need some expert help...
Henry immediately picked up the phone and contacted the information team that didn't even have a formal manager yet.
"Pull a list of the top five commercial satellite manufacturers in the United States, especially those for broadcasting. Investigate the possibility of acquisition for all of them and report back."
To earn the Japanese government's trust, a shabby hole-in-the-wall company wouldn't do. It needed to be a name worthy of at least the top five fingers to break those arrogant Japanese bastards' pride.
"Whew. I can decide on satellite targets once the list comes out. The real issue is the actual business I'll run inside Japan..."
Just like the famous saying, McDonald's doesn't make money from hamburgers. They make money from real estate, Henry's mind was spinning rapidly to catch two rabbits at once: real estate preemption and business profits.
The Seven-Eleven that the novel's protagonist ate would be perfect, but that would require acquiring the American headquarters, Japanese licensing, distribution network—too many things to touch. The scale is too big. Isn't there anything else? Hmm... Oh, fashion!
Brands that would become commonplace in the future were, right now, the objects of frenzy as Japan, followed by Korea and China, went crazy for American fashion and culture. Brands like Polo shirts, Levi's jeans, and Lacoste dominated an entire era. Luxury goods went without saying. Starting with Japan's bubble period, Korea's sold-out frenzy, and China's sweeping shopping sprees—the three East Asian countries took turns serving as the luxury industry's wallets, just with time differences.
"Check the luxury goods industry. I should list up American clothing brands too. For now, I'll write down the ones I know."
Henry's heart wanted to swallow up Levi's whole—the brand that would write an undefeated legend for the next several decades. But even though 1979 was a recession, Levi's was a massive corporation ranked 174th in Fortune magazine by The Times. Acquiring it was out of the question; even securing exclusive licensing or distribution rights in Japan would be something to be grateful for.
The problem was that Henry himself didn't know which other brands were promising. Whether in his previous life or now, he was a "fashion idiot" who just grabbed whatever caught his eye from the closet and wore it.
I could probably sell it by slapping on labels like 'American casual,' but even that needs a solid foundation to work. What do I know about fashion anyway?
Henry planned to pick brands he'd at least heard of in his previous life that weren't too expensive, but the situation in Europe, where luxury brands were everywhere, was even more of a fog. Since fashion hadn't been covered seriously in the novels either, he had zero data.
"Other than that... Japanese people go crazy for desserts, so maybe donuts? No, wait. Why am I agonizing over this alone?"
Henry put down his pen and burst into a hollow laugh.
"That's what I created the think tank and family office for. I'll just have them analyze the current status of the brands I point out and investigate every single item that could be a massive hit in Japan."
Henry stretched comfortably. It was a moment when he once again realized the truth that the taste of power and capital came from making others do the work.