In a twist reminiscent of the tales penned by the Bard himself, the tides of fortune have turned dramatically for Imperial Pacific International, the embattled Hong Kong firm that once held the coveted key to the Northern Marina Islands’ casino riches. The company has unfurled a parchment of separation before the US territory, a move that could mark the end of a tumultuous saga.
The plot centers around the once lauded Imperial Pacific Resort Hotel Saipan, whose silence now speaks louder than the fanfare that greeted its inception. The project was envisioned by none other than the Chinese billionaire, Cui Lijie, a name synonymous with affluence in the glitzy gambling lanes of Macau, thanks to her shrewd investments in the Heng Sheng junket group. A physician by training, Cui, swayed by ambition’s siren song, set sail over a decade ago to erect her casino empire upon the Northern Marina Islands’ sandy foundations.
Destiny’s wheel spun fortuitously for Cui and her progeny, Ji Xiaobo, in 2013, when they clinched the sole casino concession for the NMI. They sold dreams of a multibillion-dollar integrated resort casino to the Pacific enclave, conjuring images of prosperity in exchange for a deal sealed with solemn promises to the local government—a covenant that officials claim has been dismally forsaken.
The stage for this resort disaster was set early on. The lavish venture, tagged at $3.9 billion, spiraled into a conundrum before opening its opulent doors. The construction site turned into a theater of the law when it caught the FBI’s watchful eye after the tragic demise of a worker and rumors of unpaid wages and perilous work conditions. The open-air casino that gambled on fortunes amid the clamor of construction gained notoriety as one of the globe’s wealthiest, sparking suspicions of money laundering that attracted federal scrutiny.
The resort’s first $500 million act opened to an audience of few in July 2017, draping Saipan visitors in a golden spectacle. However, whispers of cut corners hung in the air as the walls raised questions about the edifice’s structural integrity.
Fortune’s favor proved fickle as Imperial Pacific’s coffers ran dry, with vigilant authorities monitoring every stream of currency. Pushed to the brink of insolvency, the property bid adieu under the guise of global health concerns in March 2020 and has since been cloaked in silence.
Allegations abound that Imperial Pacific has turned its back on fiscal obligations, with island officials citing missed payments—a yearly $15 million gaming fee, a $3.1 million slice for regulatory costs, and a pledged $20 million annuity to the NMI Community Benefit Fund—that have gone unfulfilled since as early as 2017.
In what appears to be a final act to unravel their ties with the Northern Marina Islands, IPI has unfurled before it a termination agreement aimed at offering resolution to the legal imbroglio. In a pact that bids to extract them from a 25-year contract inked in 2013, Imperial’s agents have extended a $31 million olive branch to settle outstanding licensing fees and an additional $16 million to unchain the suspended gaming concession.
This overture, totaling nearly $47 million, however, hit a silent note with NMI Gov. Arnold Palacios, who, per reports, has stance poised to spurn the proposal. IPI barristers claim the governor’s interjection errs, noting earlier sentiments from the CCC suggesting endorsement of the separation arrangement. Imperial Pacific’s strategy remains to withdraw from the NMI, bequeath the shuttered castle to its creditors, with Tokyo’s Kyosei Bank at the vanguard, and pass the gaming baton to the financial sentinel.
What the future holds for Cui Lijie’s colossal undertaking, remains ensnared in uncertainty. The empire that was to be her crown jewel has eroded her reserves by an estimated $1 billion, cleaving her riches in twain to roughly the same amount—a testament to the capricious nature of ambition and the perilous gamble of fortune.
