Chapter 17: What Is Marketing? (5)
Chapter 17: What Is Marketing? (5)
Translation: Godtl
Bellaby stayed in Nortaris for three days during the week-long charity event before departing.
She attended two balls, gave one newspaper interview, participated in one banquet, and joined a street parade.
It was an uncharacteristically busy schedule for the famously vacation-loving Bellaby.
And there was one common keyword woven through all these public appearances.
Cola.
Every footprint she left in Nortaris was accompanied by cola.
"What in the world is cola?"
Most of the aristocratic class hadn't even known of its existence.
Given that it was a drink that had briefly become popular in the 'End of the Galley'—a place they'd never set foot in their lives—this wasn't surprising.
Among them, those few who kept a close eye on market trends thought:
"Isn't that just for the lower classes?"
A beverage branded with the disgraceful label of being "for the lower classes."
The reason we say it "was" branded that way...
"Lower class drink? Hey, you little shit. Are you saying Lady Bellaby is lower class?"
"W-what? N-no, of course not!"
...was because that was no longer the case.
Bellaby always ordered cola whenever she attended balls.
Cola served in tall, transparent Collins glasses with finely crushed ice and a lime wheel became her signature order in just two appearances.
Every eye in the ballroom burned that image into memory.
"That drink Lady Bellaby had was called cola?"
"That's what I'm telling you! It was like watching a movie! The way she sat cross-legged at the cocktail bar, lost in thought while sipping cola—oh my god, I can't even... Just thinking about it makes me want to cry."
"Good grief, the dramatics... But Bellaby's just common-born anyway, isn't she?"
"Excuse me? What did you just say?"
"Did I say something untrue?"
Of course, not everyone welcomed this development.
Britannia's jewel had as many who resented her success as she had admirers.
But the public had already embraced Bellaby unconditionally.
Wasn't she the one who'd erased the disgrace of Nortaris high society being called the "Second-tier League"?
"Should we consider that remark the official position of House Winslow?"
"We've duly noted Lord Winslow's narrow-minded and petty assessment. You are aware our family owns a newspaper, correct?"
"Ahem, that's not... I misspoke. My apologies, sincere apologies. I mean it, I'm truly sorry???"
The minor complaints were quickly silenced as public attention turned to the mysterious beverage called cola.
"Waiter, one cola here."
"One here as well, please."
"This is... an indescribable taste."
"The bubbles burst like fireworks while the sweetness envelops... This is unexpectedly elegant?"
"How did we not know about this marvelous drink until now..."
"I'll confess now—I've actually been drinking a glass of cola every morning for ages."
"How about we make a toast with cola at today's gathering?"
In salons, theaters, clubs, and banquet halls, cola began to be consumed like the latest trend.
Just as Jurgen had intended, it shattered preconceptions and established itself as a bona fide trend.
All of this was well within expected parameters.
But Bellaby's supporting fire didn't end there.
Wherever she went, she carried an elegantly packaged cola bottle tucked diagonally in her handbag.
She made sure to be seen sipping from it periodically in public.
The final nail in the coffin was her interview with Nortaris's largest newspaper.
Q: First, we deeply thank you for gracing Nortaris with your presence during this visit. You're famously inactive during vacation seasons—was there a particular reason you chose to attend Nortaris's charity event?
A: I've always been curious about this place. I'd heard it was a city with unique charm. Now that I'm here, I see it's truly a vibrant, energetic, and lovely city. A bit cold, though (laughs).
Q: You mentioned there was another reason for your visit. You've brought cola not just to banquets but even to this interview—could your visit to Nortaris be related to cola?
A. That's right. Honestly, these days I can hardly start my day without cola. When I need to find peace or catch my breath, just one sip of cola brings me comfort. I heard it's a specialty of Nortaris, and I think about half of my love for this city comes from cola.
Q. What an honor. Do you plan to continue enjoying cola after this visit?
A. Of course. Cola has already become part of my life.
An interview that simultaneously soothed Nortaris citizens' inferiority complex while satisfying their craving for recognition.
And within this roughly 15-minute interview, cola was mentioned a staggering 27 times.
"But was cola originally a specialty of Nortaris?"
Though this minor question arose, hardly anyone paid it any mind.
"I dunno? But Lady Bellaby said so."
"Ah, whatever, then it must be true."
The result?
The article featuring this interview was published on the front page with a headline as bold as a shop sign:
<The Proud Specialty of Nortaris, Beloved by Bellaby Blanville: Cola!>
"What in the world...?"
Jurgen, who had kept his shop shutters down while observing the situation, was at a loss for words when he saw the newspaper.
Bellaby had promised her support, but he never expected her to push it this decisively.
"Truly, the world rewards those who give first..."
A wave of emotion surged over him anew, and he felt he'd lived his life well.
The stigma of cola being "for the lower class" had already been stripped away.
The small ripple Bellaby had created with her wings had grown into a storm sweeping through Nortaris.
When Jurgen finally stepped onto Brellum Shop Street after so long, he wondered if he'd taken a wrong turn.
This was far from the ghostly commercial district that was usually so deserted you'd think you were seeing tumbleweeds.
"Where's Brellum Street gone? This looks more like a refugee camp..."
The place was teeming with people.
There were owners of street stalls from the End of the Galley, and well-dressed people in suits sprinkled among them.
With rows of tents and canopies, and carriages and vehicles parked along the road, there wasn't even space to set a foot down.
"Gahk!"
Just then, a hand reached out from an alley and suddenly grabbed Jurgen by the scruff of his neck.
Startled, he turned to see Penelope, her face deeply shadowed under the wide brim of a floppy hat.
"Oh, Miss Penelope. Long time no see."
"Shh, keep your voice down. If they see me now, it'll be trouble."
"What in the world is going on here?"
"You're one to talk—where have you been hiding without showing your face? No, that's not important right now."
"Please, do explain."
"Thanks to Lady Bellaby, demand for cola has skyrocketed. But both you and I have been absent for a while."
Cola was enjoying truly explosive popularity.
Yet its supply was extremely limited.
Only what Jurgen and Penelope had secretly handcrafted and sold.
Even that would often sell out within a day at the End of the Galley.
And now that the two of them had cut off the supply, the remaining cola stock in the market vanished in an instant.
With everyone thirsting for "Nortaris's specialty," and the suppliers suddenly disappearing, what else could happen?
"So these people are...?"
"Right, they're all waiting to buy cola. I guarantee, if you get caught in that crowd, you'll never escape."
"To think it would come to this... The ways of the world are truly unfathomable."
Penelope's lips twitched as she watched Jurgen standing there dazed.
Truth be told, she was itching to speak up right now.
Who was it that convinced Bellaby to become cola's ambassador?
None other than this very person—Penelope Rosemore.
But she couldn't possibly say that out loud.
Because...
Wouldn't that reveal that Penelope was from the Rosemore family?
That would go against her original goal of restoring noble dignity in Jurgen's eyes.
Ahh, what should I do?
Being too exceptional is such a nuisance.
Penelope, lost in her narcissistic reverie, shook her head vigorously.
"Miss Penelope, why are you fidgeting like a puppy that needs to pee?"
"Wh-what?! How dare you say that to a lady?!"
"My, my apologies. Please don't hit me."
"...This isn't the right place to talk. Isn't there somewhere better?"
"Ah, my rented room happens to be nearby."
"Then lead the way."
For their future plans, the two moved to Jurgen's rented quarters.
Moving as stealthily as stray cats to avoid drawing attention.
"This way. It's a bit messy."
"Indeed, it's quite messy."
"Care to help clean up?"
"Why should I?"
Jurgen's rented room was located on the second floor of a wooden building.
The place was so cluttered it made one wonder if he'd put all his effort into the shop instead. After a half-hearted cleaning session, they settled into chairs.
The accompanying drink was, of course, cola.
Let's take stock of the situation at this point.
"You saw it too, right? The line of people in front of the shop earlier."
"Most were quite well-dressed."
"Exactly—they're attendants of distinguished individuals."
The explosive popularity of cola, blazing like the midday sun.
A drought-like scarcity phenomenon sweeping through high society.
Only these two held the key to quenching that thirst.
A guaranteed path to riches lay before them like a red carpet.
"What do you plan to do?"
"What would you like to do, Miss Penelope?"
"What do you think? We should produce and sell cola as quickly as possible. Before the trend fades."
"Oh ho."
Jurgen had noticed before—Penelope was quite clever.
Though she still had aspects of a hothouse flower, even amidst the current frenzy, she instinctively understood the nature of trends.
A storm fueled by the fickle whims of popular sentiment.
This very impermanence—the possibility it might vanish at any moment—is the essence of fashion.
Setting sail to ride this storm is certainly one approach...
"I have a slightly different idea."
Simply riding the storm isn't enough.
We should make the storm even fiercer.
Observing the situation, Jurgen naturally recalled a historical event.
The Dutch Tulip Mania.
The first recorded instance of an economic bubble.
At the time, Amsterdam was the financial hub where the world's money flowed, and that overflowing capital became concentrated on a single commodity: tulips.
As tulips became status symbols representing wealth among the elite, their prices skyrocketed.
At the peak of speculation, a single tulip bulb reportedly equaled the price of six respectable townhouses.
Now, let's apply that historical speculative frenzy to our current situation.
Thanks to Bellaby's endorsement, cola has become a luxury item favored by nobility.
Its price could soar indefinitely based on its scarcity.
No—the more expensive it becomes, the more it will be valued and coveted.
For some time, every bottle produced will command exorbitant prices, ending up in the hands of the wealthy or speculators.
Having organized his thoughts, Jurgen concluded:
"From now on, we'll make cola even scarcer. So scarce that only a privileged few can obtain it."
Penelope, who had been tilting her head in thought, suddenly widened her eyes.
The clever girl soon understood the implication, letting out a satisfied sniff.
"Good, I get it. We're going to fleece the nobility, right?"
"My, such frightening words. Let's call it... customized limited edition distribution for select clientele."
"I misjudged you. You're more fox-like than you appear."
"First, I'd like your agreement, Miss Penelope. Are you comfortable proceeding this way?"
"Absolutely. I detest nobles, after all."
"...?"
Though puzzled by Penelope's sudden self-deprecation regarding nobility, Jurgen let it pass.
With sly smiles, the two clinked their cola glasses together.