Chapter 855: Making Money Isn't That Hard, Actually

The reporter knew what kind of news the editor-in-chief wanted, and he also knew what kind of news he needed to win a Golden Newspaper Award.

He had once thought that for the sake of news, for the sake of media justice, he could give up everything.

But at this moment, he suddenly felt... a little tormented.

The reporter's silence made Auge's wife realize that this reporter did indeed have a suitable job for her, at least a piece of news!

She looked at the reporter and reached out to pull his arm. "Please, our family is in desperate need of a job right now!"

"Auge, he... I don't know what to say about him, but it's clear that he probably won't be able to find a job for a short period of time, at least not a high-paying job like before."

Almost twice the salary of an ordinary person, this was indeed a high-paying job, for Auge and his family, who were also ordinary people.

Now those garment factories were not willing to use him, because he still put himself in the position of a "master tailor."

In a factory, a master tailor often represented a group that was independent of the factory system. They had their own lounge, their own canteen, and the food they ate was even prepared by the factory.

Cutting, sewing, measuring, ironing, they were responsible for the most crucial part of these processes.

After a batch of cloth arrived, how to cut it, how to make it, how to produce a sample, the factory owner didn't know, and the low-level cutters also didn't know.

It was all these skilled workers who set the standard. The workers who were responsible for calculating the data after getting the drawings would set different standards, because there was often only one drawing, but they had to make many models.

How this data was arranged was not random. It required a scientific calculation method. After the drawings for different models came out, they would be handed over to the master cutter.

A skilled cutter would, according to the data on these drawings, make some components, and then press the components on the sorted cloth for cutting.

Some were directly drawn on the first piece of cloth by these skilled workers, and then the subsequent ones would be cut according to this piece of cloth.

What was cut out were all pieces of cloth. If no one told you how to make these pieces of cloth, those ordinary workers might not be able to do it well.

Then it was the work of the master tailor. He would, according to the drawings, sew these pieces of cloth together. How much of a seam to leave, how deep the stitch should be, would all be done.

The clothes that were finally made were actually still not in their final form. In the end, they had to be handed over to the master ironer. They just had to look at the drawing once to know how to iron.

In the end, what came out of the iron was a piece of clothing that was exactly the same as the drawing.

This whole process was called "sampling."

Auge was in charge of the sewing work, which was also a very important step.

For him to want to continue to seek this easy, high-paying job was very difficult, because the things he had done and his position, and the influence he could have in a factory, would make people worry about his subsequent performance.

But if he was willing to lower his salary and not be in such an important position, maybe a factory would hire him.

But if he lowered his salary, they would never be able to pay back that money in their lifetime!

Auge's wife was in desperate need of a job that could make money, whether it was for them to fill their stomachs in the near future, or from a long-term planning point of view.

A woman doesn't need to be coquettish. Just a low, pleading voice is enough to make some men feel pity.

"Madam, actually... if I may say something that might be very inappropriate, with your current conditions, it is very difficult to find a suitable job in Golden Port City."

"If you can accept a salary of a dozen or so a month, you might be able to give it a try, but those jobs are either very tiring, or very dirty, and not at all decent."

This was not a matter of gender discrimination, but that a full-time housewife, to suddenly enter society, she did not have the corresponding survival skills.

She did not have a university or a technical college diploma, and could not find a suitable job. And for jobs like a salesperson, which required strong social skills, Auge's wife might not be competent.

What the reporter had said was all the truth. He was very sympathetic to this lady, but he could not, because of his sympathy, lie. And now was not the time to lie.

When she had heard the reporter say this, Auge's wife was already on the verge of despair. A dozen or so a month was not even enough for the hospital bills, let alone the fact that they still had to live, and had their own expenses.

Even if they compressed their daily expenses to fifty cents—bread would require about twenty cents. The continuous escalation of the war and the fact that a part of the grain-producing areas on the Tanfit continent had been covered by artillery fire last year, and the civil war in the East Continent Empire had led to the destruction of a large amount of farmland, and was still in the stage of recultivation, so the price of grain had been rising.

From the five-cent-a-pound whole wheat bread in old Joe's bakery six years ago, it had now risen to the point where it would cost about twelve or thirteen cents to buy a pound.

The prices had doubled and then some, but people's income had only increased by about 15%, and at the same time, they had to face a basic tax and a war tax of 20%!

The cost of living was getting higher and higher.

A dozen or so a month, you couldn't even eat your fill.

"Is there... no job in this world that I can do?"

Auge's wife covered her face and began to cry. She was truly desperate!

Her husband was injured and had lost his job. He owed the hospital a large sum of money. It was said that under the effect of the interest, they would in the end have to pay back a good thousand or so.

Their house was fucking gone, and now Auge couldn't find a job, and it was unknown when he could pull himself together.

The burden of life seemed to have suddenly fallen on her shoulders. At this very moment, she was even more desperate and powerless than her husband!

Looking at Auge's wife crying there, the reporter suddenly felt that perhaps giving her this choice was not harming her, but saving her.

If their family was really desperate, perhaps they would really, as the editor-in-chief had said, find a place to jump.

Thinking of this, the reporter pursed his lips. "Madam, actually there is a job that doesn't require you to have any experience or diploma, and the income is very high."

The woman raised her head, wiped her tears, and looked at the reporter. She even went over and grabbed the reporter's arm, and asked eagerly, "What is it?"

The reporter opened his mouth. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but it was not so easy to say them.

"Please tell me, I'm begging you!"

The reporter took a deep breath. "Walking the streets."

He saw that Auge's wife hadn't reacted, and then he explained, "It's the girls and women who ask passersby for help. Although the current price is much cheaper than before because of the impact of the refugees, a single time is still two dollars."

"Madam, you look very young, and you also have a kind of a temperament that those people don't have. Someone will definitely like your type, and the price can even be a little higher."

"You only need three to five customers a day, and you can get ten dollars..."

Auge's wife was very resistant to hearing these words at first, but when he had said that she could earn ten dollars a day, her eyes had widened.

From the reporter's torment, it had turned to the torment of Auge's wife.

She needed money, just as the reporter needed a big news story!

The reporter had been observing the change in her expression. He knew that there was a high probability that Auge's wife would choose this path, and he had not been lying.

As a man, he actually preferred the girls who were forced to do it. This would give him a kind of a pleasure of destroying something beautiful.

And a young mistress, a federal young mistress, plus her story, would definitely be very attractive.

Auge's wife did not speak. She just remained silent. The reporter did not mention this matter again. He knew that he still needed someone to give her a final push.

When she returned home at night, the couple were both silent. Their daughter, when she saw that dinner was just a piece of bread, without even jam or any other side dishes, she directly took the slice of bread and returned to her room.

The second day, the third day, both of them were out looking for a job.

The more they looked for a job, the more desperate they became!

Auge had already lowered his demand for a salary to fifty, but still no one was willing to hire him. He was completely desperate!

At noon, he had returned home. His wife was packing some clothes. "Are you going out?"

His wife just shook her head. "We have no more money. We don't even have money for dinner. I need to go out and sell some clothes for money to buy dinner."

Auge lowered his head and returned to his room, and did not come out. And his wife silently packed some clothes.

Among them was a new dress she had just bought last year. She had only worn it twice.

The first time was when she had bought it, and the second time was when she had worn it for the New Year. She liked this dress very much, but now, she had to sell her favorite dress.

She lowered her head, and tears fell one by one.

Selling old clothes was not smooth either. This dress had been bought by Auge for ninety-nine cents, but the people on the street were only willing to offer thirty-five cents, and they had demanded that she also throw in a skirt.

A thing that was worth a total of 1.48, and now these people were only willing to offer thirty-five cents. This was only enough for their family's food for tonight and noon!

For the first time, she had felt that the phrase "living is very hard" was just for two meals.

After she had had an argument with a customer, the customer had cursed her a few times as a bitch and had left in a huff. Her mood had fallen into a low point again.

After a while, she looked at the reporter. "Is it really ten dollars a day?"

The reporter nodded.

Then she began to pack her things. She had made a decision.

A few minutes away from home, she stopped her steps, glanced at the bread behind the window of a bakery on the side of the road, and then she turned her head to look at the reporter. "Can you give me two dollars?"

The reporter looked at her with a puzzled look. "I can't do that."

A resolute smile appeared on her face. "You are my first customer."

A moment later, she returned home with a piece of bread, and had also bought two tomatoes and a few lettuce leaves from the side of the road.

Fortunately, there were still some condiments at home. Soon a fruit and vegetable sandwich was made. At least it looked much better than yesterday.

"Did you sell the clothes?" Auge asked.

His wife nodded. "Yes."

Auge held his head. "I'm sorry."

She just smiled. "Let's eat. After we've eaten our fill, we'll have the energy to look for a job tomorrow."

After her daughter had come back and had seen the simple, but better than last night, dinner, her mood also seemed to have stabilized a little.

The family of three said a few meaningless words, and then they separated.

The next day, Auge had left first, and then their daughter. His wife had been the last to stay.

She looked at the reporter and asked, "What's the first step I have to do?"

The reporter was a little eager. To be honest, he had never interacted with this kind of a young mistress. "You have to first come up with an easy-to-recognize name."

"For example?"

"Kanti!"

Next was naturally the stage of natural communication. Auge's wife had, with tears, completed her first job. The moment it was completed, the reporter couldn't help but talk about some of the work matters.

"After I'm like this, you can get up, and then clean yourself, and go back to your work place, and wait for the next customer."

"You have to pay a little attention to the hygiene of the environment. This determines whether your customer will come a second time."

"And you can also appear a little weaker. You can complain to the customer. If they are willing to talk to you."

"If you run into someone who wants to hurt you, you can refuse, and also call for help."

"Of course, if a customer wants to play something a little more exciting, and it's within your tolerance, you can agree, and then ask for more..."

He said a lot about the matters that needed to be paid attention to in this job, which were all firmly remembered in the heart of this newborn, Ms. Kanti.

Then she had changed into her favorite dress and skirt, had dressed herself up, and had left the house with the reporter.

The reporter had reported on the news of the streetwalkers before. In fact, most of the reporters who wanted to win an award would pay attention to these dark sides and pain points of society.

But just to report on some people who, because they were vain or were not willing to work hard, had gone to walk the streets, would not at all arouse the heated discussion of society!

At most, people would think that these girls were so fucking slutty. Of course, they would still pay when they should. This did not prevent them from thinking that these girls were slutty.

So he was very clear about the current situation of streetwalking in Golden Port City.

After the Lance Family had ruled the entire city, the situation of the streetwalkers had become much better. They had people to protect these girls from being harmed by perverts.

The reporter had taken Kanti to the busiest street in the Empire District. Although it was still morning, there were already many streetwalkers here.

There were also some men who were observing these ladies.

When Kanti had appeared, the eyes of many men as they looked at her had lit up. They had seen fear in her eyes, which had aroused some of their interest.

Some people had even planned to come over, but the reporter had raised his hand to them, stopping them.

"Next, I'm going to take you to get a registration. They will give you a physical examination, and then they will give you a work permit, and only then can you walk the streets."

This had made her feel incredible. She had not known that there were so many rules for streetwalking now.

The reporter explained with a smile, "This is the rule of the Lance Family."

Soon she had come to the place that the reporter had mentioned, and after filling out a form, she had been taken to a room by a female nurse.

There was also a female doctor in the room. She was a specialist, who specialized in examining diseases in this aspect.

After all the things were over, she had gotten her own work permit.

As she was walking outside with the reporter, she still felt a kind of incomprehension.

They had also asked her if she had been forced, if someone had threatened her, and the like.

Of course, the most important thing was that she was a little worried, because the form she had filled out was all real information.

"They won't leak my information, will they?"

She was a little nervous.

The reporter shook his head. "You don't have to worry about this. To record your personal information is just to avoid, in an extreme situation, them not knowing who you are."

"Under normal circumstances, no one will go and look at those documents."

Kanti didn't know what the reporter meant. In fact, this was to deal with the problem of tracing the source of a prostitute's body, to be able to quickly lock down and find who the deceased was.

The reporter had also taken her to a nearby hotel and had told her to just bring her customers here. This hotel was specialized in this business, and you had to give the other party fifteen cents each time.

If she could rent a room for a long term, the price would be a little lower, but she had just started, so there was no need to rent a room.

He had also told her many details, for example, if a customer asked to take her away, she had to go to the form-filling side to register and the like.

It was almost lunchtime when she had finally come to this street and had stood there, wearing her favorite dress and skirt.

She had thought that she would have to wait for a while, but in just five minutes, a customer had come.

He had a small mustache, was slightly bald, and was a little fat.

"First time?" The little mustache didn't ask for a price as soon as he came up, but had asked a question he was very concerned about.

Kanti nodded nervously. The little mustache smiled with satisfaction. "How much?"

Kanti remembered the reporter's words. She said nervously, a little stuttering, "Three dollars."

The little mustache frowned. Just as she was thinking whether to lower the price, the little mustache suddenly smiled. "Very reasonable," he said, taking out three dollars and stuffing them into her hand, and then he put his arm around her. "Let's go..."

Kanti became even more nervous, but there was also a hint of a pleasant surprise that she herself had not realized!

Just like that... three dollars in hand?

She glanced at the reporter on the side of the road. The reporter showed her a smile.

The little mustache had also noticed this scene, and the smile on his face was even more satisfied.

"Is that your husband?" he asked.

Kanti was stunned for a moment and quickly denied it, but the little mustache seemed to have determined that the reporter was her husband.

Ten minutes later, the two of them came down from upstairs. The little mustache was generally still satisfied, but he just felt that his performance this time was a little not so good.

Kanti gave a dollar to the hotel owner. After getting the change, she looked at the two dollars and eighty-five cents in her hand, and fell into a kind of a shock that she herself couldn't describe!

Today was a busy day. A newcomer had come to the street, and many people were willing to try a new brand.

In fact, the business at night was better, but Kanti still didn't know how to tell Auge. She had returned home a little earlier.

At dinner, Auge had seen that she was a little off and had asked about it, which she had brushed off with the excuse of having had a fall.

Lying in bed, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She didn't know how to tell her husband that in just one day, she had earned more than forty dollars.