Luciel's Upscale Boutique — Fourth Hit Product: Instant Coffee
Fourth Hit Product: Instant Coffee.
Caffeine you can't resist. That addictive pull.
Knock, knock. A rhythmic knocking sounded from the entrance.
Unlike the commoner customers who simply shoved the door open and barged in, the guests of our night business observed their manners from outside it. Which meant, naturally, that I had to return the courtesy. I walked over and opened the door. Jingle.
"Welcome. We've been expecting you."
"Welcome!"
Judging by his clothes, he was no noble. A man of about fifty, neatly turned out in an outdoor coat; he removed his hat and returned our greeting with the particular bow of a servant from a highborn household.
"Master. My compliments on your labors at so late an hour. I am called Edmund, First Butler of the household of Baron Varie of Stonefield. By the Baron's command — forgive the impropriety of the hour — I have come on a proxy purchase."
"It's hardly late by our measure, so please think nothing of it. More to the point, thank you for traveling such a long way. I am Luciel Gathergold, proprietor of this general store."
The indispensable exchange of introductions. And then—
"Shall I take your coat?"
"That won't be necessary. I cannot stay long."
I asked with all the courtesy Erina had drilled into me, and the visitor declined with matching formality. With both seller and buyer so overflowing with manners and refinement, it was honestly hard to tell which of us was the one doing the selling.
In the meantime, the man's gaze lingered for a moment on Erina's lovely face and the deep valley of her cleavage — but no longer than that. More mannerly than certain people I could mention, I'll give him that. Well, obviously. That's how a man ought to be. Once again I found myself confirming that Erina's beauty worked on commoners, the middle class, and the nobility alike.
Incidentally, the man's voice was soft, yet it carried weight. Judging by his speech and bearing, he really was a First Butler — the most senior of a household's servants — and clearly its head butler at that. Sending the man who should never, whatever happened, be away from the mansion on a mere proxy-purchase errand could only mean one thing: that buying from this shop was important and valuable enough to warrant it.
"We heard that a certain shop has become the burning topic of the Baron's social circles of late, and after much asking around, I found my way here. Indeed — the rumors were true."
Clutching his removed hat in both hands, the proxy looked the shop up and down. I nudged Erina, who had gone blank.
"Erina."
"Ah! Yes. The coffee..."
Erina hurriedly fetched a cup, a packet of instant coffee, and a thermos of hot water from a cabinet, and had the drink mixed in no time. Naturally, Erina didn't know the first thing about coffee as a drink — I'd taught her during a break. Tearing a packet into a cup, pouring in the right amount of hot water, and giving it a stir was something even a three-year-old could manage.
At our shop, every distinguished guest who called at night was offered hot coffee and tea free of charge, purchase or no purchase.
Slurp.
"Please, enjoy the warm coffee."
"Coffee... you say?"
"It's, ah... a drink imported from a distant foreign land. It warms the body and clears the head."
"A lovely aroma."
The proxy raised the cup and savored its fragrance several times over. Then, with one more brief glance at Erina's cleavage, he took a sip.
! For an instant, I could see the proxy's eyes go wide over the rim of the cup.
I knew it. Everyone who tasted coffee for the first time in our shop reacted exactly this way. The drink was so extraordinary that, within moments, the ample cleavage of the shop's female staff ceased to matter to them at all.
"...How remarkable. I have never tasted anything like it. This gentle sweetness... this flavor... it is an ecstasy that makes the head swim."
"I'm glad it pleases you."
"How on earth does one create such a taste...? If this were served at the nobility's tea time, there would be an uproar..."
He was visibly wrestling to keep his astonishment in check. For a while, Erina and I gave him the time to finish his cup; and when at last he set it down with a satisfied look and turned to us, I asked, carefully:
"Was there some particular item you were entrusted to procure?"
"Well... it appears even our Baron does not know the product's exact name."
"That's quite all right. Most of our goods are things whose proper names no one else knows either. Did the Baron mention what the item is used for?"
So the guest wouldn't feel awkward, I took a somewhat more proactive stance.
"It's... he overheard the noble ladies speaking at a recent social party, so I cannot be certain, but... he said it was a thing used to lift a lady's spirits."
Lift a lady's spirits? What on earth could it be? On that clue alone, the field was far too wide. Far too many of the goods we sold were pitched at brightening noblewomen's moods. From sweet desserts like chocolate, to fragrant diffusers, perfumes for the body, toiletries like shampoo, conditioner, and body wash — even the lingerie displayed dead center did its part to lift a lady's mood. After all, some women found satisfaction in dressing daringly and admiring their own exposed figures in the mirror.
But the Baron — a man — seeking something for a woman's spirits? Was he hunting a gift for his wife or a lover?
"It's... the exact purpose is..."
"It's, you see... ah — would you wait just a moment, please."
??
Suddenly the proxy began fumbling something out from inside his coat. A note.
"This is a handwritten account, set down by Baron Varie himself, of his impressions of the item. Before I begin, I must have your firm assurance — from you both — that you will not breathe a word of what I am about to read."
What could it be, that he'd go to such lengths? Judging by his grave expression, this was no joke.
"From this moment on, we swear that nothing we hear from you shall be repeated to anyone."
"...I won't tell a soul."
"Very good. Then—"
And he suddenly began to recite it before us, like a poem.
"...When I met her in the morning, it was as if she and I walked, alone together, through a rose field in glorious full bloom."
Was this... a love letter? Roses? Was he talking about a perfume? But we didn't sell rose-scented perfume at our shop. At any rate, it wasn't something one ate. No — or could it be an impression set down after eating something?
"Come midday, some hours on, it was as if we strolled through a secret rose garden for two, hidden behind the manor."
Something about it nagged at me. A field before, and now a garden? The scale had shrunk as time passed, hadn't it?
"And when evening came at last, it felt as though I sat facing her, a single rose in full bloom in my hand."
...
That was it. The scale shrank further still as the hours went by. A rose field in the morning, a garden in the afternoon, a single bloom by evening. A rose-themed product whose splendor dwindled with time.
"Ahem. That is the whole of the Baron's impressions. Does anything suggest itself to you?"
"Might the Baron have felt all this about one particular woman?"
"That I cannot say. I will confirm only that this account concerns a product purchased here. The Baron says that nowhere in all the cities of Helion has he ever seen a woman who gave off such a feeling— ah."
A woman, after all. He was talking about a product some female customer had bought at our shop. In that case...
"Hmm... let's see... one moment, please."
From one side of the VIP display stand set out in the very center of the shop, I picked up a small bottle. It was a 100-milliliter bottle of women's rose-scented shampoo, portioned out, tied with a pretty ribbon, and decorated.
Shampoo. The answer I had settled on was shampoo. Baron Varie had spent the whole day in the company of a woman he adored, and that woman had washed her hair with this shampoo, bought from our shop. In the morning, not long after washing, her hair had billowed with the scent of roses; as the hours passed the fragrance had settled, until by evening one had to press close, bodies touching, to catch it at all.
"This is—?!"
"It's called shampoo. It has to do with a woman's beauty care. One normally applies it when washing the hair."
"Ho... so it is a kind of soap, or a herbal essence?"
"Yes. It serves the same purpose as those. But do mind the quantity. Please instruct them not to use it all at once — only about a finger-joint's worth per wash. And the effect is not permanent; it lasts only some twelve hours. Be sure to convey that as well."
"As expected of you, Master! You have understood the Baron's account to the letter!"
Well, I was confident — but I wouldn't stake a hundred percent on it. Because the people here loved the scent of roses, we also stocked a rose-scented body wash and body oil with much the same fragrance. If it turned out to be one of those, he'd simply have to come back. What was I supposed to do about hints this vague, from some fellow named Varie — or was it Barista?
The proxy lifted the bottle and gave it a gentle shake. The reddish shampoo, naturally, didn't slosh about like water; with its body it clung to the glass and slid slowly down the walls — but even that seemed a marvel to him, and he peered into the bottle for a long while as though in admiration. For all his standing as a mere proxy, in the end his curiosity had won out.
"Might I... open it?"
"Of course. It doesn't evaporate the moment it's opened, so please, go ahead."
When he hesitated, unable to work the cork-like stopper loose, I twisted it open for him and let him have a smell.
"So this is... shampoo..."
For a long while he wafted the scent toward himself with dignified little flicks of his hand, then nodded and nodded again, his face glowing with happiness.
"This must surely be it. No — it most certainly is! Truly, it feels as though I were running through a field of roses in full bloom. Could any scent be more lovely?"
"I'm glad we found what you were sent for."
"What is the price? I shall gladly pay it."
The price: fifteen silver coins. That one little bottle — a tenth of the cheap rose shampoo that cost 8,900 won for a whole liter back home — was going for a full fifteen pieces of silver.
But the proxy, who had no way of knowing that, paid without a moment's hesitation. If anything, he seemed to think it cheaper than he'd braced himself for.
"Erina, take the money."
"Ah! Yes! Yes!"
Startled — as if she'd never dreamed of being entrusted with even this — Erina hurried over and cupped her palms together before the proxy. As silver coins streamed ceaselessly from his purse into her hands, her mouth fell open and stayed that way; and in the meantime the proxy bowed and made to leave the shop.
"Is there nothing else you require?"
I wasn't expecting anything. Proxies sent on nobles' errands mostly buy nothing beyond what they were sent for. The carriage fare and meals for the journey here, every last expense bound up in acquiring the desired goods — none of it was their own money. And if their lord ever caught them secretly purchasing things on the side, they might well be punished for it. Such was the rarity of what my shop sold — treasures that could elevate the refinement of anyone who owned them.
"W-well... p-perhaps...."
The proxy hesitated. I could see him summoning tremendous courage, resolved to accept a scolding if he was caught.
"Please, speak. From this moment on, whatever you say, your secret is safe with me."
"Th-then, that drink from before — the coffee. Might I purchase just one cup? I am well aware it must be expensive. A taste like that — at the very least ten silver coins a cup, I should think—"
In the proxy's eyes I could see it — a genuine longing born of pure craving. So this was what they called well-mannered greed. Unfortunately for him, my shop had its own rules — rules I had made myself.
"Ah, I am truly sorry, but coffee is not something we sell. It is a welcome drink, served as a special courtesy to honored guests who make the long journey to this out-of-the-way place."
"I see...."
This time the proxy made no effort to hide his disappointment.
"However—"
I quickly took a packet of instant coffee from the cabinet and pressed it into his hand.
"If you, in turn, will guarantee your discretion just the same, then gifting you one is hardly any trouble at all."
"Oh no — such a precious thing, for free!"
"Tear open the packet, empty it into a cup, pour in a little hot water, stir, and it's done. Don't get caught — I'd ask that you enjoy it alone, in your room, while you lodge at the inn."
"I shall, I most certainly shall!"
And so Baron Varie's proxy left the shop with a thoroughly satisfied face.
The moment the door closed, Erina held up the silver coins he had handed over, unable to contain her astonishment.
"That's an incredible sum!"
"This is nothing. For nobles, dropping a gold coin a day is no trouble at all."
"A gold coin... good heavens..."
"At this rate, by tomorrow we might even be able to pay off the credit on your purchase price, Erina."
"I truly... don't know what to say beyond... incredible...!"
Erina carefully tucked the silver coins into the big sack that served as our till.
"By the way, Master — from the little customer during the day shift, to the housewife customers, and now the Baron's proxy. There's a common thread in how you sell."
"A common thread?"
"Yes. You sell at a loss."
"Ah, that's not a loss. It's a kind of advertising expense."
"You said the same back when you were selling snacks, so I thought that must be it — but back then you were just starting out, without even a proper stall on the street. Now you have this fine, established shop. There's no need to keep doing it..."
"Why do I keep giving it away, you mean?"
I understood exactly what she was asking, and I laughed. It seemed Erina still couldn't quite make sense of my methods, even watching them with her own eyes.
"Snacks, maybe — those are cheap compared to your other goods, after all. But curry, coffee — those are truly rare, aren't they? So precious that hardly anyone has ever tasted them—"
"What was that you just said?"
"That they're so precious, hardly anyone has even tasted them."
"Exactly. That's why I give out free samples. When people see something for the first time, they have no idea whether it's worth anything. So first, you let them try it. At that stage, it isn't precious yet. Once everyone has used it and decided for themselves that it's precious — that's when it becomes truly precious. And when that time comes, the price climbs all on its own, without my raising it a single coin."
"...I still don't understand it completely."
"That's fine. You can feel that way for now. Keep at this work, and you'll see what I mean soon enough."
Just then, the clatter of several sets of hooves came from outside, and we cut our chat short at once. Before I knew it, the hour was edging toward dawn. It was time for the true VIP of the night — tonight's real headliner — to arrive.