Luciel's Grocery Store. The Second Hit Product: Curry Powder
Luciel's grocery store. The second hit product: curry powder.
A must-have item destined to become a godsend for housewives buried in housework.
"...So that's what happened. That's truly remarkable of you, Master!"
Erina's eyes had gone wide with what seemed like genuine awe as she listened to my story.
All while tearing open the pack of Aribo bear jelly I'd handed her to taste, chewing away nonstop as she spoke.
Really, no need to be moved by something like this.
And if you're going to be moved, stop chewing. What is this, being impressed and taste-testing at the same time?
No, wait—could it be she's not moved by my story at all, but by the chewy texture of the bear jelly?
I hadn't planned on telling her about my past. It was only because her gaze had lingered on the snack corner for so long that I gave her a short summary.
With a few convenient lies folded in, of course.
I left out the part where I'd mistaken the final day for the day they'd come to hunt me down and fled for my life, dodging the residents of Greenhill. That would have been far too embarrassing.
If I share my story like this, then someday she'll open up in turn and tell me hers.
"It's amazing that everyone in your homeland can dye their hair freely, Master. Even change the color of their eyes. To think that isn't your natural eye color..."
Erina leaned her face in close to mine and stared intently into my eyes.
Close enough that I could feel her breath.
Feeling awkward, I restarted the shop talk.
"Ahem... Anyway, from here to over there is the snack corner, and on the opposite side we keep kitchen tools and seasonings."
"Seasonings... you say?"
Oops. She doesn't even know what a seasoning is.
You'd have to have eaten food with things added to it before the word would mean anything at all.
"A seasoning is close to what you'd call a spice here. Except a seasoning can change not just the smell of a dish but the entire taste. A bland soup can turn salty in an instant—or spicy, or sweet."
"I know what spices are. Things like pepper."
"So you do know pepper."
"The nobles use it..."
Right, and that's exactly where her knowledge ends—which confirms she really did live among humans as a commoner, or lower.
A medieval commoner's meal was, quite literally, eating in order to survive.
Rye or barley bread so hard it hurt to chew, hunks of cheese gone rock-hard—probably eaten last week too—soup that had been simmering since last month, bland and bitter, with who knows what in it.
For such people, discussing the taste of food was a luxury; being able to fill your belly with your daily ration was thanks enough to give the gods.
And it wasn't that this place was especially poor—ninety percent of commoners everywhere lived that way. This town used to be no different.
Until I, Luciel Gathergold, arrived from another world.
Out of all the countless cities and villages, great and small, only the people of this one little town, Greenhill, had been blessed.
"Pepper is... a mere two silver?!"
"You know what pepper is?"
"I've never tasted it, but... aren't you selling it for two silver by mistake?!"
"It's a Greenhill-residents-only item. One bottle per household per month."
Erina had picked the bottle up, curious about its odd shape, and when she read the label I'd written identifying the contents as pepper, she was so startled she nearly dropped it. It was astonishing enough that a treasure once the exclusive preserve of nobles was being sold in a common general store—but only two silver a bottle?
Well, she'd at least identified the most expensive seasoning in the shop.
I knew full well how dearly pepper traded in this world. If I'd wanted, I could have charged far more. But anything past two silver here, and the housewives of this town would do what they always did with these little bottles of finely ground pepper in their pretty glass—gawk at them the way people admire luxury goods on display, then walk away.
An upscale boutique for nobles only.
That is not the business I want.
Money scrimped and saved over months from the allowance a husband hands over each week, or the copper or two earned here and there from sewing, cleaning other people's houses, or taking in their laundry—enough to gather with a little patience.
A realistic luxury. Luxury within arm's reach.
Two silver here is exactly that kind of attainable money.
"Salt is one silver a bottle?! And that's precious stuff too!"
"I could go cheaper, but if I took payment in copper alone, everyone would just stockpile it. Can't have that."
"A bottle of vinegar this size for thirty copper?!"
"Everyone uses vinegar and mustard."
For a while, Erina went from price tag to price tag, marveling at each one.
Luckily, the goods near the ground-floor windows and the entrance were things that existed in this world too, so explaining them to customers later wouldn't be difficult.
The problem was the goods deeper in...
Just then, the shop door opened.
Ding-a-ling.
I'd hung a bell above the door, so it always rang whenever a customer came in.
"Welcome."
It was only one little girl, but I didn't skimp on the friendly greeting.
Erina noticed the customer too and scooted over to stand at my side, then bowed with the same politeness I had.
"Welcome, little customer."
"Are you open right now? Oh! A pretty big sister I've never seen before!"
The girl's attention was captured at once by Erina's exotic looks.
Apparently Erina bewitched women as readily as men. Being a child, though, she paid no mind to Erina's slightly risqué outfit—she seemed to be taking in her overall proportions and style instead.
Thank goodness Erina's first customer was a little girl. She doesn't seem to be trembling, at least.
"We're only open for a moment, then we close right up again. Lucky you."
"Yay! Is she a new employee?"
"Something like that. Here for sweets?"
"Yes! Milk caramels!"
"Good choice."
The girl held out a single copper coin, cradling it like a treasure. I tipped my chin at Erina, signaling her to take the payment.
"Ah... yes! One copper coin, received!"
Erina took the coin awkwardly, then stood there dumbfounded, clutching it and plainly at a loss for what to do with it.
Meanwhile, I fetched a clear plastic tub from the corner by the window, heaped with milk caramels in every flavor.
"Now, you know the rules?"
"Yes!"
As if she'd been waiting for this very moment, the girl beamed and plunged her tiny hand into the tub. Then she spread her fingers as wide as they would go, scooped up a fistful of caramels, and carefully drew them out. Anything that fell back into the tub along the way wasn't hers to keep—this was the part where every child had to be careful.
Erina watched the girl with a look of mild astonishment.
"Done!"
Six individually wrapped caramels. For a girl that small, a solid haul. Even boys with big hands struggled to get past ten.
"Shall I bag them?"
"Yes, please!"
Making a show of it for Erina's benefit, I pointed at the bundle of plastic bags hanging beneath the counter, had her tear one off and hand it over, then filled it with the caramels.
But the girl still hadn't left. She stood there waiting for something.
The word really has spread, then.
"Oh, right—and this one's on the house!"
I fished a tiny alphabet chocolate from another tub and added it to her bag. The favor worked both ways—buy a chocolate, and you'd get a caramel free in return.
"Thank you!"
Only then did the girl bow and step out of the shop.
The moment the door closed behind her, Erina's questions began.
"You gave her all that for just one copper? And a free gift on top? What is that?!"
"A 'service' is when the shop owner throws in a little something extra beyond what the customer bought. Call it a small gift of thanks to a valued customer for spending their money on my goods."
"But... you still turn a profit selling like that?"
"Well..."
I do. Quite a lot, actually.
Things like that, bought by the box, turn a profit no matter how you sell them. Though if we're strictly weighing profit against loss, honestly, it doesn't compare to the income I rake in from the special customers who visit at night. Measured in time spent, it might even count as a loss.
But like I said—this is loyalty!
The reason my shop does this well and spreads by word of mouth is because of the kids standing here right now.
"Kids are the only customers I can treat like this. When adults buy the same thing, it's sold in sets of six. Honestly, adults rarely buy sweets anyway—too embarrassing for them."
"Master, you're a much kinder person than I took you for♡"
"No—over something this small?! Shouldn't you have sensed that kind of heart back when I saved you?"
Maybe it's because she's a half-elf, but the things that move her seem to sit in very different places from an ordinary human's.
Anyway, once the little customer was gone, I continued the tour.
"This table here is the instant-food corner."
"Instant... food?"
I hadn't been expecting much. She wouldn't understand the word instant any more than food products.
Come to think of it, Greengote—knowing almost nothing about humans to begin with—had actually been easier to teach. Teaching Gote had felt like entering information into a computer and hitting save.
Right, Gote counts as an exception. He's a mutant goblin specialized in intelligence, even among mutants.
"This is, well... quick food that helps you get a meal fast when you need one."
"Quick food? Things you can eat quickly? Like pre-boiled potatoes, or rye bread gone old and dry?"
"No, um... those can be eaten right away too, but they taste awful. This is quick to make as well—just put it in boiling water for about three minutes to heat it through, and you've got a warm, delicious meal."
"Three minutes? Do you cast magic for three minutes?"
"No... you just heat it in boiling water... Ah, it's quick because the ingredients are already chopped and prepared in advance."
"The dish is all made in advance? Then it's spoiled. Or do you get up at dawn every morning and cook everything yourself, Master?"
"No... um..."
Erina was trying so hard to understand that it irritated me all the more that I couldn't explain it properly. I did my best to lay out the principles of vacuum sealing and dried foods, but in the end she just hung her head, clearly lost.
"I can't understand it at all..."
"It's only natural that you don't get it yet. You've never actually used the things I sell. You've eaten barely a few kinds of sweets. Of course it takes time."
"...Still..."
At this pace, it would take all day. She'll be minding the shop alongside me for the time being, so let's leave it here and move briskly on to the next item.
"This is the farming tools and household goods corner. To keep our stock from overlapping with the other general stores in Greenhill, I only carry products from my homeland here."
Just as my head was starting to ache over how on earth I'd explain the existence of a hoe or the use of scissors to this girl, the shop door opened again.
Ding-a-ling.
"Welcome!"
Erina bellowed toward the door on pure reflex.
This time it was a middle-aged woman.
She still had her apron on, which meant she'd bolted over in a panic in the middle of making dinner.
"Mrs. Hans! Welcome, welcome."
A regular among regulars.
Her husband Hans works as this town's chimney sweep, and with autumn slowly deepening, this was about the time chimney-cleaning inquiries would start pouring in.
The only friction between us is that our shop, unlike every other house in town, doesn't use a fireplace—we run an electric heater off a large-capacity battery—so I've never once hired him for a chimney cleaning and never stack firewood, which never fails to strike him as strange. Aside from that, we get along fine.
What I like most about this couple is that they're not conservative about accepting new things and hold no prejudices whatsoever.
"Oh, what do I do, Mr. Luciel, it's a disaster!"
"What's the matter?"
"I stepped out of the kitchen for a moment to feed the cattle, and a rat got into the barn and climbed right into their feed troughs! Our cat's been scrounging his meals from who knows where these days, so he hasn't done his job! Anyway, I chased the wretch out, but the thing kept sneaking back in, so I drove it clean out of the yard! And the whole time I couldn't tend the fire! The pot boiled down to nothing! I should have kept stirring it! And my husband will be home from work any minute now! What am I going to do!"
Mrs. Hans does ramble a bit.
To summarize: the soup she'd prepared for dinner had burned.
"Let's see. Your husband's been eating our shop's food quite happily, hasn't he?"
"He eats anything without complaint! He loved that magical energy potion you call coffee that you sold him a few weeks back, and he said the magic meal-replacement biscuit he bought a few days ago—the one where a single piece filled him right up—agreed with him too!"
I could feel Erina's burning gaze on the back of my neck.
The word magical from Mrs. Hans's lips seemed to have given fresh weight, once again, to her conviction that I was a mage.
"So here's the thing—could I buy another one of those magic biscuits you sold before? Assuming you still have stock, of course."
"The biscuits are fine as a meal replacement, madam, but that was when your husband had to eat up on a rooftop. Right now he's on his way home after finishing a long day's work, worn to the bone. He'll be expecting a warm, hearty, proper dinner."
"That's true... but what can I do? There's no time."
"Then I'd like to recommend something else for dinner. Let's see... how about this?"
From the instant-food corner I'd just finished explaining to Erina, I pulled out a packet of solid curry roux. At the picture on the wrapper—a whole pot brimming with golden curry—Mrs. Hans's eyes went wide.
But the moment she tore the packet open and saw the yellow curry blocks inside, she couldn't hide her disappointment.
"Is this... another biscuit, just a different flavor?"
"It's not a biscuit. This is a seasoning that gives soup broth its flavor."
"A seasoning?"
Perfect timing. If I demonstrated it, Erina would finally grasp the concepts of seasonings and instant food.
"If you were making soup, you may still have some chopped ingredients left over."
"Only the potatoes I put in first got burned. I can just cut more potatoes, and the carrots and cabbage are still there, already chopped."
"Excellent. Then all you need to do is boil fresh water."
The reason I recommended the solid curry roux rather than a three-minute instant curry was exactly what she'd just said—her ingredients were mostly prepped. From a housewife's standpoint, letting freshly chopped ingredients go to waste would have been a genuine shame.
I cracked open the door to the back office and shouted toward where Gote and I keep our desks.
"Gote! Get some boiling water ready in a pot!"
"Are we making ramen, sir?!"
Gote's question came back laced with hope, but I told him all I needed was a little boiling water.
"What a curious smell. I've never smelled anything like it in my life! The aroma is terribly strong! Won't the taste be far too sharp?"
"It'll mellow once you add the water. It may taste strange at first, but once you've grown used to this flavor, you'll find yourself craving nothing else."
Not just Mrs. Hans—Erina wore a take-it-or-leave-it expression too.
Before long the pot of hot water was ready. I snapped off a small piece of the curry block, dropped it in, and gave it a stir with a spoon.
"Whoa!"
"It really is turning into soup!"
As the savory aroma rose and a brown curry broth materialized from nothing but plain water, I had both Mrs. Hans and Erina take a taste. The exotic flavor drew gasps of wonder from them both.
"Good heavens! How can a soup like this exist? With this, I could make a whole potful right this minute! What did you say it was called?"
"Curry."
"Curry soup. I must hurry home and boil some up!"
Mrs. Hans opened the purse at her waist. I waved her off.
"Since it's your first taste, this one's free. If you enjoy it, buy plenty next time. And put in a good word with the other ladies, if you would."
"Oh my, how can I ever thank you! I surely will!"
"More importantly, you seem to be in a hurry, so take it and go finish your dinner!"
"Thank you so much! I've said it before and I'll say it again—good fortune will find you. And the young lady beside you who's to be his wife as well!"
I'm sorry—his what?
Erina hung her head, utterly at a loss.
Once Mrs. Hans scurried out of the shop clutching her packet of curry blocks, an awkward silence settled over the store, leaving the two of us alone.
Then, as if to shatter that atmosphere, Erina suddenly cried out.
"I've got it! Finally!"
"Got what?"
"You're not a mage at all, Master!"
"Then what am I?"
"An alchemist! A miracle-working alchemist who creates things that don't exist in this world! Am I right?!"
A heavy sigh. An alchemist this time?
Think whatever you like.