Building a Conglomerate in Another World

The refinery buzzed with activity as workers rushed to finalize preparations for the first shipment of oil. The drills had struck rich reserves at Cerro Negro weeks ago, and now dozens of tanker trucks lined up at the newly constructed loading station. Thick black crude was being pumped into their tanks, destined for Amerathian markets.

Matthew Hesh stood on an elevated platform overlooking the refinery. The air was thick with the scent of petroleum, but to him, it was the smell of progress. Amber approached, clipboard in hand, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Looks like we're finally getting somewhere," she said, nodding toward the trucks.

"Yes," Matthew replied, "but it's only the beginning. If everything goes according to plan, this shipment will be the first of many."

Amber flipped through her notes. "The port's ready for loading. The Amerathian Navy provided an escort for the shipment, and we've secured priority docking rights for the next few months. Once this batch reaches the refineries in Amerathia, we'll finally be making real profits."

Matthew nodded, but his expression darkened slightly. "There's still one issue holding us back."

Amber raised an eyebrow. "The tariffs?"

"Exactly." Matthew's voice hardened. "Despite all the investments and infrastructure we've built here, the government still treats this territory as foreign soil. Every barrel of oil we ship to Amerathia is subject to import duties. It's a drain on our profits and a roadblock to the long-term success of this operation."

Amber sighed. "You've already spoken to the trade minister about this, haven't you?"

"Twice," Matthew said bitterly. "And all I've gotten are excuses about how it's 'standard procedure for unincorporated territories.' If we keep paying those tariffs, it'll cripple our expansion plans."

Amber gave him a thoughtful look. "You're going to need to escalate this, aren't you?"

Matthew smirked. "Oh, I'm done playing by their rules. It's time I had a word with President Clay."

***

Two days later, Matthew arrived at the White House in Washington. The atmosphere inside was tense but professional. President Theodore Clay had a full schedule, but Matthew's urgent request for a meeting had been granted due to his growing influence and the economic importance of the northern provinces.

Matthew was escorted into the Oval Office, where President Clay and Secretary of State Johnson Wright were waiting. Clay greeted him with a firm handshake.

"Matthew, always a pleasure to see you," Clay said, motioning for him to sit. "I hear the first oil shipment is on its way. Congratulations on reaching this milestone."

"Thank you, Mr. President," Matthew said, taking a seat. "However, I didn't come here just to celebrate. There's an issue that needs to be addressed—immediately."

Clay's expression grew more serious. "I see. What's the problem?"

Matthew leaned forward, his tone direct. "The tariffs. As you know, this territory is classified as unincorporated, which means we're being treated like a foreign exporter. Every shipment of oil we send to Amerathia is taxed as if it came from another country. That needs to change."

Secretary Wright cleared his throat. "Matthew, I understand your frustration, but these policies aren't something we can just rewrite overnight. There are legal frameworks in place for how territories are handled—frameworks that have been part of Amerathian trade policy for decades."

Matthew's eyes narrowed. "Those policies were designed for territories with little economic value. That's not the case here. The northern provinces are vital to Amerathia's industrial future. The oil we're producing will power factories, fuel transportation networks, and provide strategic leverage against rival nations. You can't treat this territory like it's an afterthought."

Clay interlocked his fingers and leaned back in his chair. "You make a strong point, Matthew, but I need to think about the political ramifications. If we eliminate tariffs for one territory, other regions might demand similar treatment. There's already opposition in Congress to the level of control we've given you over the northern provinces."

Matthew exhaled sharply. "With all due respect, Mr. President, you didn't win this territory through diplomacy. Amerathia bombed Gran Colombia into submission. Now you have a chance to turn that conquest into prosperity. But if you suffocate this region's growth with tariffs, you'll squander everything we've built."

Clay exchanged a glance with Wright, who remained silent for a moment before speaking. "There's a middle ground we could consider. Instead of fully eliminating the tariffs, we could implement a phased reduction over the next five years. That would give Congress time to adjust and prevent backlash from other territories."

Matthew shook his head. "A phased reduction won't cut it. We need immediate action. Every dollar we lose to tariffs is a dollar we can't reinvest in infrastructure, security, and community development. The faster we can expand, the more tax revenue Amerathia will collect in the long run. Isn't that what you want?"

Clay leaned forward again, his gaze intense. "What exactly are you proposing, Matthew?" Stay tuned with My Virtual Library Empire

"I want the northern provinces to be granted a special economic designation," Matthew said. "No tariffs on exports to Amerathia, in exchange for increased investment commitments. I'll guarantee that a portion of the oil revenue is reinvested directly into national infrastructure projects—ports, railways, you name it."

Wright frowned. "That's a bold request. You're asking for unprecedented privileges."

"I'm asking for what's necessary to secure Amerathia's dominance," Matthew countered. "If you want these territories to thrive—and if you want my continued cooperation—this is the deal."

The room fell into a tense silence. Clay tapped his fingers on the desk, deep in thought. Finally, he nodded slowly.

"You're not wrong," Clay admitted. "We can't afford to let bureaucracy choke this opportunity. Alright, Matthew. I'll authorize a special designation for the northern provinces. But in return, I expect results. Rapid expansion, increased tax revenue, and no scandals. If you fail to deliver, Congress will be breathing down both our necks."

Matthew stood and extended his hand. "You won't regret this, Mr. President."

Clay shook his hand firmly. "See that I don't."

***

By the end of the week, Matthew's request had been formalized. The northern provinces were granted a special economic designation, exempting them from export tariffs to Amerathia. The news spread quickly through both the corporate and political spheres, solidifying Matthew's reputation as a key player in the nation's industrial future.

Back in the northern provinces, the first shipment of oil arrived at Amerathian refineries without financial penalties, marking the beginning of a new era for the region. Amber met Matthew at the refinery's headquarters with a bottle of champagne.

"Looks like you did it," she said, handing him a glass. "No more tariffs. The shipments are moving smoothly, and the profits are already rolling in."

Matthew smiled as he raised his glass. "We've cleared the first hurdle, but there's still a lot of work ahead. This is just the foundation."

Amber clinked her glass against his. "Here's to building something that lasts."

"To the future," Matthew said quietly, watching the refinery's lights illuminate the darkening sky. This territory, once a battleground, was now a beacon of economic power. And he intended to keep it that way.