The exclusive distribution rights for Pac-Man in the United States were ultimately secured by Phil Smith once again.
However, this time his contract covered only the U.S., excluding Canada, and the price remained at $5 million — no other company offered higher.
Canada's exclusive rights were taken by another company for $2 million, while the U.K., France, and Germany each had their respective local agents acquire exclusivity for $3 million apiece.
As for Japan, the exclusive rights were still claimed by Taitō Corporation, this time at a price of $4 million.
Aside from these few major regions, other countries' distributors weren't willing to pay a flat exclusivity fee. Instead, they opted to place direct unit orders without exclusive territory.
Lin Baicheng's policy was clear: for countries purchasing exclusivity, the minimum order quantity depended on local market size and economic strength.
The U.S. and Japan: at least 10,000 units each.
The U.K., France, and Germany: at least 3,000 units each.
Canada: at least 1,000 units.
All exclusive distributors placed only the minimum quantity allowed. For them, Lin set the wholesale price at $1,750 USD per machine.
As for the smaller distributors without exclusivity, their largest single order was just 200 units, all at the full price of $1,888 USD each — no discounts whatsoever. Some even ordered as few as 20 units, but with five or six distributors in each country, the small orders added up nicely.
The results were staggering.
Galaxy Games received orders for 30,000 units from exclusive distributors alone — totaling $52.5 million USD.
The remaining non-exclusive orders amounted to 15,000 units, worth another $28.32 million USD.
In total, Galaxy Games had secured over $80 million USD in sales.
While Europe and South America had plenty of small distributors, their markets weren't as wealthy as the U.S. or Japan. Most wanted to "test the waters" first, placing small orders to gauge market response. It was only natural — no amount of hype could override business prudence.
Those who paid millions for exclusivity had little choice but to place big orders as per contract. Otherwise, they too would have preferred to order cautiously. Still, their confidence in Pac-Man's potential market was what set them apart.
Once the distributor conference concluded and all exclusivity agreements were signed, Lin Baicheng didn't linger in Los Angeles.
He returned to Hong Kong, carrying with him a mountain of contracts, millions of U.S. dollars, and the satisfaction of victory.
The gains this time were monumental.
For Hong Kong Blocks, the 5,000-unit order at $1,500 USD each (≈HK$6,300) meant that with a production cost of HK$2,500 per unit, Lin earned HK$3,800 profit per unit, for a total profit of about HK$19 million.
For Pac-Man, the picture was even brighter.
The exclusive licensing fees alone amounted to $20 million USD — or HK$84 million.
From the 30,000 units ordered by exclusive agents, Lin's production cost had dropped slightly to HK$3,300 per machine, while the selling price at $1,750 USD equaled HK$7,350, bringing in HK$4,050 profit per unit — a total of HK$121.5 million.
The remaining 15,000 units sold at $1,888 USD (≈HK$7,930) each, earning HK$4,630 profit per unit, for an additional HK$69.45 million.
All in all, the Los Angeles trade fair had brought Galaxy Games orders worth about HK$210 million in profit, plus another HK$84 million in licensing fees — an astonishing total.
However, every deal had strings attached.
The distributors had only paid 50% upfront. The remaining half would be due upon delivery — and to protect against default, Lin required full payment before goods were handed over.
This strict policy was one reason many distributors kept their orders small.
But Lin preferred that. He would rather earn a bit less than risk being cheated.
After all, international business was risky. If a foreign distributor decided to withhold payment after receiving the machines, Galaxy Games could do nothing but sue abroad — a process that would take years and could cripple the company.
So Lin's cautious approach was the smart one: fewer risks, steady growth.
Back in Hong Kong, the first wave of funds — $64 million USD — arrived safely.
Of that, $20 million USD were the non-refundable exclusivity fees, while the remaining $44 million USD were prepaid order deposits.
Even after covering half of production costs, Lin still made a tidy profit.
But rather than immediately paying suppliers in full, Lin decided to mirror his own payment terms — paying only half now, and the rest after delivery.
With a temporary working capital of roughly HK$189 million, Lin effectively borrowed production funds from his partners without interest.
This wasn't shady — just business. If he couldn't collect all payments upfront, neither could his suppliers.
Before flying to Los Angeles, Taitō Corporation had already transferred its outstanding $6 million USD balance, plus another $12 million USD deposit for its 10,000-unit order.
That HK$50 million profit had been immediately moved into Baisheng Securities, where Lin instructed An Yuan to continue quietly acquiring Wharf Holdings shares.
Now, with another HK$150 million transferred into the same account, Lin's total investment had reached HK$300 million.
At this point, An Yuan could easily guess Lin's intention — this wasn't a mere stock investment. Lin was planning a takeover of Wharf Holdings itself.
After all, no rational investor would put every cent into one stock. Three consecutive rounds of massive purchases, enough to control over 20% of the company's shares, could only mean one thing: a planned acquisition.
The realization made An Yuan both thrilled and cautious. To be the man handling a deal that could shake all of Hong Kong's financial circles — that was a once-in-a-lifetime honor.
Lin never intended to hide his plan from him anyway. Someone had to execute the trades, and An Yuan was the best man for the job.
Out of the HK$189 million left, Lin transferred HK$150 million to Baisheng Securities, leaving the rest in Galaxy Games' company account.
Production resumed immediately. The factory would be busy for months fulfilling the 50,000-unit backlog.
Although new facilities were already under construction, they wouldn't be operational until next year. For now, the company's production capacity remained steady at around 600 machines per day — nearly 20,000 units per month.
At that rate, all orders would be completed within three months — a tight but achievable timeline.