Chapter 32: I Released Cola in Nortaris! (2)
Chapter 32: I Released Cola in Nortaris! (2)
Translation: Godtl
The auction house was already packed to the brim.
The interior was so vast that a shout of "yahoo" would echo, yet there wasn't an inch of space to stand.
Bankers, entrepreneurs, and representatives of merchant alliances—all interested in the legacy left behind by Polar Suns—filled the room.
Penelope Rosemore was the only noble who had come in person.
And to make matters worse, she was dressed in a flamboyant red gown, drawing countless sidelong glances.
"Damn it... why her of all people..."
"So it's... really true."
"Today's a bust... had I known..."
"...If only it weren't overlapping..."
As expected, the murmurs grew louder, but now was the time to focus on the auction.
Penelope pushed through the crowd and took her seat in the auction area.
"What was with that sudden business card...?"
Even after sitting down, she still couldn't make sense of it.
Word about the cola factory must have spread by now...
Sure, she had been quite active lately and had even demonstrated the fearsome reputation of House Rosemore against Brighton, but...
"Hmm, is that really all it takes?"
Anyone with half a brain would know that House Rosemore hadn't stepped in for Penelope's sake but to uphold the family's prestige...
Could high society really have been so oblivious as to ostracize Penelope all this time?
She didn't have the luxury of dwelling on it for long.
"We will now commence the auction for the assets of Polar Suns Co. I trust everyone is familiar with the procedures, so we'll move straight to the first item."
The auctioneer began without a single second's delay from the scheduled time.
"Lot Number 1: A lemonade manufacturing plant. Please refer to the catalog for details. The starting bid is 300 crowns! Do I hear any bids?"
What the—what the hell?
Since when did auctions move this fast?
Penelope, who had barely caught her breath, hastily flipped through the documents she had prepared.
"Let's see... Lot Number 1..."
The lemonade plant in question was one of Polar Suns' main production facilities, located in the new industrial district.
The starting bid was 300 crowns, but that was well below the estimated value—likely set low to encourage fierce bidding.
If a proper bidding war broke out, it could easily soar into the thousands.
"Just pie in the sky..."
Meanwhile, most of Penelope's assets were tied up in the cola factory.
She didn't even have the 300 crowns for the starting bid, let alone thousands, so she dismissed it as irrelevant.
Instead, she skimmed the auction catalog to see if there was anything else worth picking up.
"Now this might be worth buying."
Even with her current budget, she might be able to snag unused raw materials at a bargain.
Things like sugar, bottle caps, oranges—stuff like that.
Jurgen had been worrying lately about rising sugar prices, after all.
The sugar, in particular, was in good condition and plentiful.
If luck was on her side, she might even get them at a steal.
As Penelope browsed the auction list, she suddenly noticed an eerie silence settling over the room.
Something was off.
Just moments ago, the auctioneer's crisp voice had echoed through the hall, and she had expected the usual feverish excitement to follow.
After all, auctions thrived on competition, greed, the thrill of victory—that sort of thing.
"...?"
But instead, an unsettling silence lingered.
The kind where you could hear the ticking of a clock.
"...What's going on?"
The participants in front weren't even focusing on the auction—they kept sneaking glances behind them.
What?
Had Brighton somehow come back to life back there?
Pretending to flip her hair, Penelope casually glanced over her shoulder—and froze in shock.
"Ahem."
"Mm-hmm..."
The auction attendees seated behind her seemed completely uninterested in the proceedings, their attention elsewhere as they feigned disinterest.
Amid the silence, someone suddenly approached the auctioneer and handed them a note along with a whisper.
The auctioneer tilted their head in bewilderment before speaking.
"Ah... my apologies. There's been a correction. Lot Number 1, the lemonade manufacturing plant. The starting bid has been revised to 100 crowns. We apologize for any confusion caused. Starting bid: 100 crowns!"
What was the point of lowering the starting bid in an auction anyway?
Penelope could guess why the auctioneer had reacted that way.
"Does no one have 100 crowns?"
Yet the hall remained dead silent—so quiet you could hear a clock tick.
What the hell? Was no one interested in that lot at all?
"...That's an absurdly low price..."
Why wasn't anyone bidding?
Penelope hesitated, then—uncharacteristically timid—raised her paddle.
"100 crowns. I bid."
'If no one else is buying... I'll just take it...?' That was the vibe.
"100 crowns going once! 100 crowns! Twice! 100 crowns going three times! Sold to number 47! Congratulations!"
Penelope blinked rapidly.
At first, her blinks were slow and deliberate, then gradually sped up as reality dawned on her.
No one had placed a higher bid.
Meaning, Penelope had won the auction.
She'd won?
For just 100 crowns?
'Is this even allowed?'
This is a factory in the new industrial district near the port and freight station!
One of Polar Suns' main lemonade production facilities at that!
Even excluding the factory and equipment, the land alone should easily fetch over 1,000 crowns!
Is there some critical defect with the property?
Are there debts, collateral issues, or ownership disputes entangled with it?
But to uncover the truth—no, there weren't any such problems.
'Grrrr! What a waste!'
'That for just 100 crowns...'
'I wanted to buy it too!!!'
'And of all people, P.R. had to show up!'
The money demons gathered in this chamber of commerce auction hall had come "rationally" to purchase "good items."
Normally, when something valuable appears at a good price, they'd fight tooth and nail for it.
But those assembled here had all seen the gossip circulating in social circles—or in Britannian terms, the "memorandum."
[Grey Council Decision Regarding Polar Suns and P.R.]
*Brighton, who opposed P.R., "committed suicide."
*Chairman Marcus has agreed to preferentially yield Polar Suns' assets to P.R.
*Other council members eyeing said assets have agreed to suspend related plans for 30 days.
*P.R.'s standing requires reassessment. The image of incompetence may have been intentional. (Unconfirmed)
*Possibility that Penelope indirectly exerted influence on the Grey Council must be reconsidered. (Highly unconfirmed)
A decision unanimously agreed upon by the entire Grey Council.
At the very least, no one in this chamber of commerce auction hall dared ignore that unspoken agreement.
Money is important, but is it more precious than life?
"Next is lot number 2! A former brewery site in the suburban district! Starting bid at 40 crowns!"
"Huh?"
Penelope's face lit up.
That was near the abandoned factory Jurgen had purchased from Serena.
Even considering it was in the old industrial district, 40 crowns for that land area was an absolute steal among steals.
Again, Penelope glanced around cautiously before discreetly raising her paddle.
"40 crowns. I bid."
"50 crowns... Ugh... Who the hell are you people?"
"Oh dear! You there! Please, just stay still!"
"We're trying to help you, we're trying to help!"
There was a minor commotion in the middle, but...
"40 crowns going once! 40 crowns! Twice! 40 crowns going three times! Sold to number 47! Congratulations!"
"Number 47 takes the bid! Congratulations!"
"Congratulations to number 47!"
"Number 47 wins!"
"Congratulations!"
Penelope had successfully made her auction debut.
After about an hour, what she held in her hands was...
*A lemonade manufacturing plant in the new industrial district.
*A former brewery site in the old industrial district.
*A large warehouse near Nortaris Central Station.
*200 tons of sugar.
All achieved for a mere 250 crowns—a spectacular feat.
People rejoice when luck favors them.
But when fortune smiles too generously, one can only stand dumbfounded.
Penelope, who had forced herself awake at dawn hoping to snag at least something cheap, found herself in precisely that state.
It felt like successfully completing one of those absurd quests from her university days—"Hey, I'll give you 5 pennies. Go to the market and buy 5 rubies and lapis lazuli for catalysts. And bring back the change."
"250 crowns?"
"That's right."
"For all of that?"
"That's what they said..."
Even Jurgen couldn't help but be astonished by this miraculous arithmetic.
By common sense, it made no sense.
Though the world's economic concepts differ, converting 1 crown to Korean won yields roughly 1 million won.
For easy calculation, just remove two zeros and add "hundred million."
Meaning, 250 crowns equal about 250 million won.
That's roughly the price of Serena's beloved Caliburn Model J, caught in that unfortunate accident.
Not a small sum, but not exactly groundbreaking money in business terms.
Just for "Cola Factory No. 1," even after cutting corners and reusing existing equipment, they'd planned to invest 1,500 crowns.
Conversely, this meant Penelope had performed an unbelievable miracle with mere "pocket change."
"I had no idea Miss Penelope was so resourceful."
"Neither did I..."
"Regardless of the details, well done, Miss Penelope."
The elegant noble lady Penelope was always thirsty for praise.
Hearing Jurgen's compliments, her ears perked up slightly.
"Well, when I put my mind to it, this is what I can do."
Suppressing the corners of her lips with all her might while feigning nonchalance, she tallied up the significance of today's gains.
First, the lemonade factory.
"The new industrial district is close to both the harbor and the freight station. Wouldn't it be better to relocate the factory, even if it means rewriting the plans?"
"The blueprints are already finalized and groundwork has begun. But we can secure better conditions for Factory No. 2."
Next was securing land for a brewing complex like Factory No. 1.
"The warehouse issue is solved in one fell swoop. Perfect timing, since I was just worrying about it."
"I happened to notice it was available next door. Guess how much I paid? 40 crowns. Just 40 crowns!"
Then came the large warehouse near Nortaris Central Station.
"Oho, this will make an excellent distribution hub."
"Being right next to the station will make distributing across the entire northern region much easier."
And finally, sugar—the main ingredient for cola.
"Ah, I also bought sugar. 1 crown per 10 tons."
"Ooooh...! Well done, well done indeed!"
With just 250 crowns, she'd secured the holy trinity of manufacturing, distribution, and storage.
All that remained was for Serena to quickly complete the production equipment.
"But really, how did I get so lucky?"
The moment when Penelope would learn about the rumors surrounding herself and sulk, muttering "Mafia my foot..." would come slightly later.
At that very moment, Lenoir Workshop.
Serena was personally overseeing the cola production equipment's construction.
"Miss Serena! Please take a break! You've only been catching short naps for three days straight now!"
"The deadline still gives us plenty of leeway."
The team members tried to dissuade their leader, Serena.
The young lady hadn't been sleeping properly for days, throwing herself into the work like a woman possessed.
As if she'd been touched by divine inspiration.
They understood her passion.
The commission she'd brought this time contained innovations any magitech engineer would dream of designing at least once in their career.
It was advanced equipment that would push beverage production two whole generations forward.
Those who handle steel and machinery yet harbor passions hotter than any blast furnace—isn't that what magitech engineers are?
But this was too much, even by their standards.
From the design phase, she'd been burning the candle at both ends, and now during production, she'd practically moved into the workshop.
She wasn't just giving orders.
Dressed in work clothes, wrench in hand, smearing grease on her face, she worked side by side with her team on the shop floor.
Everyone fretted constantly—what if their delicate young lady collapsed from exhaustion?
"If you insist on continuing, at least give us instructions and catch some sleep yourself..."
"No. Just a little more. I can do this."
Serena shook her head, wiping sweat with her sleeve.
The grease smudges made her face appear even darker.
"I'm the site supervisor. What happens when a field commander abandons their post during battle?"
But to her team, even this disheveled appearance seemed radiant with a halo.
"Miss..."
Sniff "When did she grow up to be so dependable..."
"If our lady is pushing herself like this, how can we slack off? Another all-nighter it is!"
"Woooooah!!!!"
Not the kind of manager who barks orders while lounging about, but a true leader who leads by example.
Isn't this precisely the bearing befitting the heir to the Lenoir baronetcy?
'Faster! More perfectly! This still isn't good enough!'
Separate from her team's blazing enthusiasm...
Serena had another reason for overworking herself.
Truthfully, she hadn't planned to go this hard initially.
Though Jurgen had mistaken her for a commoner and taken a dislike to her, hadn't she mostly compensated him with the factory and Caliburn?
Originally, Serena feared Jurgen more than Penelope.
As for Penelope... well...
She'd thought her just another noble girl riding her family's coattails? A well-connected but unpleasant noble brat thanks to her privileged upbringing?
'If you ignore family background and just compare abilities, we're not that different, right?' she'd thought.
So sometimes she'd get competitive, even trying to measure up to her.
That was before she heard about Penelope in society's gossip columns.
Penelope had been threatened by a mafia boss—her business rival.
She'd repelled them with sheer capability, then drove that boss to suicide.
Not stopping there, she'd leveraged influence over Nortaris Mafia's shadow council to swallow Polaris's entire legacy.
Penelope, once mocked as a "useless flower."
The very girl Serena had secretly looked down upon...
Was in fact a terrifying noble who thrived in the heart of intrigue and schemes.
"We absolutely... must move up the schedule...!"
Serena's desperate struggle, born from sheer survival instinct, bore fruit—
The deadline was slashed from 60 days to a mere 20.
And thus, with great fanfare...
Cola Factory No. 1 of Y&P Trading Co.
Grand Opening!