A_nobody
patreon
Chapter 86: Kicking Someone When They're Down
🕑 Added 2024-11-23 09:07:37 +0000 UTCRecently, IPG has been overwhelmed with chaos, as several key clients suddenly shifted their alliances.
Leica Camera, whose advertising contract was nearing expiration, announced a partnership with Supreme Creative.
Unilever's OMO detergent also declared cooperation with Hengmei Advertising.
These two clients ranked among the top three in terms of value for IPG, and losing them without any warning felt like having their foundation stolen right under their noses.
It was understandable that Hengmei Advertising could successfully poach a client since their strength has always been above IPG's. With the backing of Omnicom, a giant in the advertising world, they could act swiftly and decisively to secure deals.
But when it came to Supreme Creative, IPG's senior management was utterly baffled about when and how the firm managed to approach Leica and finalize the deal.
There had been no signs, no indications, and suddenly, a large piece of the pie was snatched away—making IPG feel as if they were being made fools of.
The board of directors was furious, bombarding senior management with relentless questioning. This led to consecutive days of meetings for Sieg, lasting from morning until late at night.
Even Milton, a newly promoted department head, had to wait until late hours to receive Sieg's directives before he could head home.
Sieg's superior, who had been tasked with expanding IPG's presence in the UK market, was also drawn into the fray. With his home base under siege, he couldn't just stand by and watch things deteriorate further.
In response, the higher-ups issued a series of decisions. One was to have all sales staff reinforce existing client relationships, and another was to search for vulnerabilities in other companies and poach valuable clients.
This created immense pressure on the company's advertising planners. Meetings to brainstorm creative ideas became daily rituals, and at night, the janitor would sweep up large amounts of hair from the meeting rooms.
Under such high pressure, the company's atmosphere grew increasingly tense. Employees dared not take deep breaths after arriving at work, and the once-lively office chatter vanished. Everyone buried themselves in their work, afraid to stand out and risk being the next target for dismissal.
Sieg, enduring sleepless nights for three consecutive days, was currently in the meeting room listening to the sales team's investigation reports.
But to him, every piece of information only added to the weight on his chest.
After finishing the reports, he couldn't hold back his anger and cursed, "Why? Why? Why are Supreme Creative's clients all tied to long-term contracts? Don't they have any weak points? Damn it! Are we only capable of losing clients and unable to fight back?"
Figgs, timid and speechless, could only lower his head. His previous tactics of targeting and bribing competitors had all proven futile—Supreme Creative was completely unaffected.
This firm was like a hedgehog; any attempt to harm it only resulted in being hurt in return. Their strategy of focusing exclusively on top-tier clients was particularly cunning. They partnered with companies that valued their reputations and signed agreements starting at a minimum of three years, making it almost impossible to shake their relationships.
Everyone else in the room also stayed silent, heads bowed, hoping to avoid drawing attention.
"Bang!" Sieg slammed a folder against the glass, shouting, "Trash! You're all trash!"
Feeling humiliate Figgs muttered, "Aside from Supreme Creative, perhaps we could target Hengmei Advertising…"
"Damn it! We've already tried Hengmei's clients! We managed to sign contracts with only two mid-sized ones, and their combined value doesn't even come close to a third of Leica's!" Sieg roared.
Leica, with its long-term agreements and global strategy focus, was exceptionally generous, paying advertising fees upfront in full.
Based on the growth of Leica's ad spending in recent years, it was estimated that Supreme Creative's partnership with them would bring in no less than $2 million in revenue—a fact that felt like a knife slicing through Sieg's heart.
Though IPG still had a substantial client base, premium clients weren't easy to come by. Losing just one meant a significant blow to company profits.
Sieg felt like he was sitting on a volcano, about to be consumed by the board's fiery wrath at any moment.
This sense of crisis kept him pushing himself and his subordinates relentlessly.
After some contemplation, he issued new directives: "From now on, find me new clients! No matter their size, even small shops on the street shouldn't be overlooked! If we can't immediately fill the gap with high-value clients, we'll win through volume! I want new contracts signed every single day! Understood?"
"Yes, Director." Everyone sighed in relief and quickly agreed.
Figgs, trying to lighten the mood, suggested, "Why don't we all grab some pizza?"
But this only reignited Sieg's fury.
"Forget about pizza! Figgs! From today on, no one in the company is allowed to eat pizza!"
Meanwhile, at Ogilvy Advertising's meeting room, two high-level executives, Maz and Lacey, who usually didn't interact much, were smiling at each other.
Even CEO Vinod had a broad smile on his face.
They had also heard about IPG's recent misfortunes and were gearing up to capitalize on it.
"Now that Supreme Creative and Hengmei Advertising have poached a few of IPG's clients, it's clear that their client base is starting to waver. We must seize this opportunity to take our share," Vinod declared, turning to Maz and Lacey. "You two will handle different sectors. Maz, focus on maternal care, food, and dining brands. Lacey, take on the telecom and tobacco sectors."
"No problem," Lacey nodded. "In fact, I've already closed deals with two clients. Contracts will be signed tomorrow."
"Excellent." Vinod nodded in approval, while Maz quickly added, "We've also made progress and secured initial agreements with three clients."
Lacey smirked, unimpressed. Preliminary agreements were little more than phone calls with vague promises.
Vinod didn't press for details, instead encouraging, "Good job, Maz. We need to take advantage of this moment to suppress IPG. They took many of our clients last year. This year, your department bonuses will come from these clients—the better-performing department will receive greater rewards."
"Understood!" Lacey and Maz exchanged competitive glances.
Soon after Ogilvy joined the client battle, IPG received another string of bad news.
Following the loss of Leica and OMO, they also lost a tobacco client and a fried chicken chain, both of whom signed with Ogilvy.
It was now clear: the entire advertising industry in New York was eyeing IPG's prized clients, eager to snatch a share amid the chaos.
With wolves at the door, Sieg felt utterly overwhelmed, as if his blood pressure was rising to unbearable levels. His hair began falling out even faster.
IPG's sales team ramped up their efforts to acquire new clients, signing contracts with numerous small businesses. Even the front desk staff became busier than ever, handling an endless stream of factory, supermarket, and retail owners.
However, pizza shop owners were strictly turned away.
In IPG's frenzied pursuit of new clients, the most affected were not the large advertising agencies but the small ones, who were swept aside like collateral damage.
As the saying goes: when the giants clash, the little ones suffer.
This was precisely what happened, with small agencies like Lion Advertising caught in the crossfire.
Maroney, the head of Lion Advertising, racked his brain trying to figure out why IPG targeted his firm.
Despite his relationship with Figgs, some unscrupulous sales rep from IPG had stolen most of his clients with unreasonable discounts. Maroney stayed up all night, his bloodshot eyes staring blankly, unable to make sense of it all.
When he finally reached Figgs, the latter brushed him off with a few empty remarks before hanging up.
Enraged, Maroney threw his phone to the ground, cursing like a madman: "Damn it, Ethan! Damn it, Jimmy! Damn it, IPG!"
Outside his office, two young planners exchanged glances. Phoebe broke the silence, "Do you think this company has a future?"
"Not at all," Torian adjusted his glasses calmly. "Maybe it's time we consider switching jobs."
"You're right. But where should we go?" Phoebe frowned.
"IPG," Torian said confidently. "Their recent client expansion shows they're in desperate need of talent."
"But why is IPG signing small clients?" Phoebe asked, puzzled.
"It's obvious," Torian explained. "They're aiming to secure both large and small clients. They might even be planning to form a conglomerate."
"A conglomerate? Wow, that sounds amazing! Let's go for interviews tomorrow," Phoebe said excitedly.
"Interviews?"
The next day, Sieg stood in the meeting room, baffled. "We still have applicants?"
Milton confirmed, "Yes, Director. Uh, I mean, we could use…"
"Of course, we could use them! Hire more people! We need more planners to generate better ideas!" Sieg exclaimed.
"What about salaries?"
"Salaries? Use the lowest tier. Set targets for them—anyone who doesn't meet them gets kicked out!" Sieg slapped the table. "And inform all current planners: we're having daily meetings! I'll personally review their ideas, and anyone who doesn't pass will be fired!"
