Chapter 36: Cola Is Just the Beginning (3)
Chapter 36: Cola Is Just the Beginning (3)
Translation: Godtl
Quite some time had passed since the cola sales began.
The state of the beverage market unfolded largely as Baron Keystone had predicted.
"Good grief, the line's just as long today."
"I wonder if I'll even get to taste it before I die."
"It's not like there's no way, but... I hear resellers are hoarding them like crazy these days."
"Even so, paying a whole shilling just for a drink is a bit..."
At the very least, cola's position in the market remained unshaken.
The public still wanted cola.
The majority hadn't even had a single sip yet, and even those who had tasted it once were willingly lining up again at the wholesale direct sales location.
Twenty thousand bottles sold out like hotcakes every day without leaving a single bottle in stock.
However, the supply was far too scarce compared to the demand, causing consumer fatigue and dissatisfaction.
"Come on, it's not like cola's the only drink out there."
"Standing in line for hours just for one bottle of cola is a bit much."
"But what else is there besides alcohol? Even the lemonade at stores is starting to sell out."
Consumers who had been ready to open their wallets for "beverages" quickly began searching for alternatives.
"They say that 'Berry Mix' is really good?"
"I've been seeing it everywhere lately. Is the taste decent?"
"I'm not sure if it's better than cola, but it's way better than lemonade. And it's even cheaper."
"How much is it?"
"One penny per bottle. But I heard they give you an extra bottle if you buy one."
A massive offensive of stock, willing to take losses even after considering distribution costs.
Berry Mix seamlessly integrated into the logistics network Polar Suns had built, taking over store shelves, taverns, and street vendors.
People who were tired of drinking the same old alcohol and wanted something different opted for Berry Mix, which was easily accessible.
"Wow...! This is actually really good?"
"It's sweet and sour and super refreshing!"
"Shopkeeper, give me one of those Mixberry or whatever it's called too!"
In no time, Berry Mix began replacing the market share that lemonade had once held.
Britannia had vehicles, and it even had limousines.
Of course, they were quite different from the long, sleek sedans commonly imagined in the modern world.
In fact, their appearance was closer to that of a carriage.
Instead, they were top-tier vehicles with a partition separating the driver's seat from the rear seats and equipped with cutting-edge suspension, prioritizing privacy and ride comfort.
Sending such a limousine to pick up a guest was nothing short of saying, "I wish to welcome you with the highest honor."
Penelope grumbled at Jurgen, who was sitting beside her in the back seat of the limousine.
"I didn't expect them to swoop in like this."
"That just shows how attractive the Nortaris beverage market is."
Penelope, who had been monitoring market trends, had felt her blood run cold more than once.
She had expected competitors to emerge, but she hadn't realized Polar Suns had built such a formidable monopoly barrier.
Who would have thought they'd even hold Keystone Company at bay?
Keystone Company was the largest food corporation in Golden Hill.
Their corporate scale was so massive that nearly all dairy products and meat sold in Nortaris came from them.
Even their side venture, Berry Mix, was downright predatory.
Relying on their sheer scale, they launched a low-cost offensive with a buy-one-get-one-free strategy, flooding the market with an estimated two million bottles in just a few days.
That was the equivalent of running the cola factory at full capacity for a hundred days to produce the same volume.
"Isn't that just how competition works?"
"Who doesn't know that? But they're not exactly playing fair, are you aware?"
She could acknowledge that much.
A company trying to push out competitors through legitimate competition wasn't underhanded.
If anything, Brighton, who had built the monopoly barrier, was the bad guy.
But lately, Y&P had been under attack from suspiciously varied angles.
Sugar prices suddenly fluctuating, all the contracted bottles breaking before delivery, surprise hygiene inspections from the city hall, organized reselling rings for cola being uncovered—everywhere, there were unsettling cracks that were far too coincidental.
Fortunately, they had stockpiled sugar, and Penelope had acted swiftly to prevent the situation from escalating into a bigger disaster...
"But this is going too far."
Penelope slammed the newspaper down.
It featured a four-panel satirical advertisement.
The cartoon depicted nobles casually tossing their Cola bottles into a trash bin, only for shabbily dressed commoners to dig through the garbage, fish out the discarded bottles, and drink from them with foolish grins.
The final panel showed a ridiculous caricature of a noblewoman counting gold coins while smirking, with the initials "P.R." clearly inscribed.
Anyone could see it was a mockery of Penelope.
The message was clear—Cola, now passé among the aristocracy, was being scavenged by the lower classes. A blatant satirical jab.
"Ugh, how infuriating. Who even drew this? Have they ever seen me in person? I'd love to get a look at their face just once."
Penelope, a woman of refined sensibilities, was seething.
On the flip side, the fact that she could afford to get angry over something so trivial meant she still had plenty of leeway.
"Weren't we already preparing to strike back?"
"Strike back? That's not enough. I'll make them pay a hundredfold."
She had no idea how fortunate she was to have Jurgen by her side in this situation.
Frankly, if Penelope had been alone, even with secured investments, she would have struggled.
Had she attempted to ramp up production through conventional means, Berry Mix would have already dominated the market by then.
At worst, she might have gone through the grueling effort of increasing production only to find there wasn't enough demand to keep the factory running at full capacity.
A "counterattack" like this would have been unthinkable.
"We've arrived."
The limousine pulled up in front of a mansion in Avenley Hill.
The wealthy often kept townhouses in the city for social engagements, political affairs, or business convenience—and Avenley Hill was the hilltop where the most elite of these residences clustered.
The mansion that came into view as they stepped out of the limousine was nothing short of opulent.
Though modest in size, as befitted a townhouse, the well-tended garden and tasteful decorations exuded an air of dignified wealth.
"Welcome. Lady Penelope Rosemore, I trust your journey was comfortable?"
"Thanks to your consideration, it was quite pleasant. Though I do worry if we're imposing on your day off."
The one who had invited them to his private residence was Gideon Belheim.
He was the head of the Devbun Trust Bank, the same man who had first handed Penelope his business card.
When she reached out about a matter of business, he had promptly sent a car for them.
"Haha, not at all. If anything, I regret not being able to fetch you myself."
This was their first proper conversation, but something about him...
The tailored suit, the monocle, the refined pronunciation—everything about him screamed "competent banker."
Yet, he also carried an inexplicable aura that put others at ease.
Then again, Devbun Trust was one of the wealthiest banks in all of Britannia.
For someone who had secured the position of head at what appeared to be his early thirties, he was clearly no ordinary man.
"And this gentleman beside you must be Mr. Jurgen?"
"Yes, my business partner. He's been instrumental from conception to execution."
Penelope preemptively framed Jurgen as an equal, wary that Belheim might dismiss him as a commoner.
"Hmm..."
Belheim glanced subtly at Jurgen.
Jurgen seemed indifferent, but Penelope noticed.
That had been a high-society skill—the "side glance."
A rapid scan that assessed a person's demeanor, gaze, posture, and attire to instantly gauge their status and wealth.
It might sound trivial, but don't underestimate it.
Those highly skilled in this art could even deduce "how many sets of silverware the other person's kitchen holds."
"To ease Lady Penelope's concerns, if I may—I don't believe status is the measure of one's competence."
Having completed his scan, Belheim flashed a practiced, cheerful smile—one he'd likely rehearsed in the mirror countless times.
Then, without hesitation, he extended his hand for a handshake.
"Welcome, Mr. Jurgen. I look forward to a fruitful relationship."
"Sir Belheim, your hospitality is much appreciated. You strike me as a man of remarkable capability yourself."
"Ah, you even have a sense of humor."
He burst into hearty laughter at Jurgen's unique way of speaking, effortlessly fostering a warm and amicable atmosphere.
"Since we can't converse in the garden, let me escort you inside."
They moved to a meticulously kept parlor, not a speck of dust in sight.
After tossing out a few lighthearted jokes, Belheim promptly cut to the chase.
"Did you come to see me because of Keystone Company?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"I assumed you wished to discuss investment matters with our bank to counter Keystone's aggressive push with 'Berry Mix.'"
"...That's also correct."
"May I make a proposal first?"
"...As you wish."
The moment the conversation turned to business, Penelope felt slightly overwhelmed.
Though his smile remained just as affable, the sharpness in his eyes shifted the instant he broached the topic.
"Y&P's cola phenomenon was impressive. Whatever high society may gossip or however they try to diminish cola, that's their affair. I, for one, distinctly caught the scent of money."
Belheim flicked his fingers as he spoke.
"Our trust is prepared to invest 30,000 crowns in Y&P."
"Th-thirty thousand...?"
Penelope gasped at the staggering sum, far beyond anything she had imagined. It was an amount that eclipsed all other investment offers combined.
"We'll expedite the procedures by this evening. Whether it's funds for expanding production facilities or marketing expenses, the money will be immediately available where needed. Given the urgency, we can also connect you with workshops for equipment manufacturing—skilled craftsmen with tight lips."
Belheim produced documents and a fountain pen, placing them on the table.
"In return, I request a 40% stake in Y&P Trading Company."
She had expected a demand for shares.
But 40%?
Considering Jurgen and Penelope currently held equal shares, this would effectively make Belheim a co-owner.
And he wasn't done. With the casual air of someone discussing the weather, he added:
"Additionally, we'll need safeguards. Full transparency in financial statements and internal company information. Should Y&P decide to sell, transfer, or use any core assets as collateral, my prior written consent will be mandatory. Lastly, if Y&P seeks additional funding from any source other than Devbun Trust, the final decision on terms and execution will rest solely with me."
"...Director Belheim, you're far more formidable than you appear."
"Am I? My fiancée is much scarier, I assure you. Oh dear—let's keep that remark confidential, shall we?"
Now she understood why so many nobles cursed Devbun Trust.
In short, it was an offer to lend desperate money in exchange for sucking them dry to the marrow.
"Personally, I find it regrettable... but prudent investment is our bank's policy. Had you come just a bit sooner, the terms might have been different. A real shame."
Yet Belheim wasn't entirely wrong.
No one had anticipated Keystone Company's rapid southern advance using Rex as their frontman.
Even if they had, no one expected it to happen this fast.
The once-promising startup cola found itself in peril far sooner than anticipated, and the noble investors who had initially shown interest were now scrambling to withdraw their offers.
Devbun Trust knew they were the only lifeline left—and they were leveraging that fact to the fullest.
"I hope you'll understand that, from my perspective, this is a generous offer."
This, in essence, was Devbun Trust's primary money-making strategy: extend loans or investments, then seize undervalued assets at the first opportunity.
The so-called "maximized value recovery strategy."
Without a countermeasure, they'd be left with two extreme choices: "Take the investment and live with leeches" or "(with high probability) wither away and die."
That is, if there were no other options.
"In that case, would you care to hear our proposal, esteemed banker?"
At Jurgen's sly demeanor, one of Belheim's eyebrows arched upward.
Not in anger—but with amused interest, as he spread his clasped hands apart.
"Of course, Mr. Jurgen. I suspect you've prepared something... Do surprise me."
"It'll be quite the stinger."
Jurgen set down a document containing what could only be described as a real bombshell.