Chapter 58
Chapter 58
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Now, It's Time to Change Strategy
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Pet rock business.
It sounded like utter nonsense, but surprisingly, it had been a legitimate success back on Earth in his previous life. It once exploded in popularity in America, achieving massive success, and even in modern times, a few celebrities had sparked trends by showing off their pet rocks.
Of course, anyone with a shred of common sense would find it hard to comprehend.
That's why some people offered rational analyses.
For starters, the entrepreneur who first came up with the idea, a businessman named Gary Dahl, had said that what he was really selling wasn't a "pet" but "humor." It was like a comedian in a bar doing silly routines to earn coins—he was peddling laughs.
That was probably the most reasonable explanation.
But no matter how logical the analysis, it didn't quite fit reality perfectly.
In truth, people who actually raised pet rocks treated mere stones as if they shared an "emotional bond," showering them with devoted affection.
So.
In the end, this "irrational business" boiled down to one simple truth.
Humans,
aren't rational creatures to begin with.
Humor was just the spark that drew out that "irrationality."
"...This just might work."
And the con artist was one of the few who understood human "irrationality" better than anyone.
People aren't rational.
The moment you grasp that axiom, an "impossible business" transforms into a "profitable one."
"I'd like to buy these egg-shaped rocks in bulk."
"Rocks? Heh. Not a problem. Just leave a proper deposit."
First, the con artist bought up a large quantity of egg-shaped stones from a trading company that dealt in construction materials.
Collecting rocks himself would doom the business from the start.
He needed a supplier who could provide consistent shapes in bulk, and construction material traders were specialists in handling such "stones."
Plus, these smooth, uniformly colored stones for building materials
had a completely different feel from the random pebbles littering the streets.
After all, since he planned to sell them as products,
they needed to stand out from "just any old rock."
"A pet... It really does look like an egg. Might suit a little nest."
Next, he made nests using sawdust and straw, packing them into boxes.
That completed the product itself, simple as could be.
But the product wasn't the most important part.
No matter how much packaging and special touches he added,
it was still just a rock in the end.
What truly mattered was making people feel like it was a pet capable of "emotional connection."
For example, he needed to wrap the "pet rock" in simple humor and antics to make it seem like a real living being.
"How about you all try raising one?"
"Pardon? Isn't this... just a rock?"
"Yep. A pet rock."
"Pet rock...?"
"...Don't look at me like I'm insane. I know 'pet rock' sounds a bit silly."
"Hm."
"Don't you need something to come home to? For wanderers like you all, keeping a dog or cat at home isn't easy. But for waiting quietly at home, this little guy's better than most pets. He's great at waiting. Never begs for food, never dies."
"When you put it that way, it does sound pretty good."
"Five talants."
"Ah. So you're selling them?"
"No payment, no attachment."
"Well, five talants isn't bad..."
A few ideas had come to him,
but figuring out how to "move people's hearts" was something he couldn't solve alone.
He needed more people's input.
So, the con artist first distributed a few pet rocks to the members of his own circus troupe.
Slaves who could barely care for themselves,
and nomadic circus slaves at that, couldn't possibly raise a pet...
But rocks? That they could manage.
He handed them out to a few slaves first
and planned to wait a few weeks for feedback.
"Boss."
"Oh, yeah? What is it?"
"This pet rock thing... Could I buy one too?"
"What."
But before he could even gather feedback, some slaves started coming to him asking to buy pet rocks themselves.
No, not just the slaves.
Someone the con artist had never expected also came seeking a pet rock.
"Ah, Lady Goldenwood. What brings you here...?"
"I saw your troupe members raising these cute little rocks. I'd like one too... Can I pay in actual coin instead of talants?"
"..."
The con artist was dumbfounded.
"...Why are they already selling?"
He hadn't even started the scams (promotion) yet,
but somehow, people wanted to buy rocks.
.
.
.
Lady Goldenwood didn't particularly like pets.
Her innate blessing forced all living things to show her proper etiquette, and taking responsibility for another life felt like too heavy a burden.
Understanding animals' manners,
or raising lives shorter than her own,
were hardships for her.
So.
Having been born as a "bird in a cage" herself,
she was the type who couldn't raise another bird.
She thought she'd never own a pet.
"What's in that box? Looks like a rock inside."
"Wilson."
"Pardon?"
"My pet rock. I was going to leave him at home, but thinking of him waiting alone made me feel bad, so I brought him out. I figured taking him for walks now and then might be nice."
"...Pardon?"
And the idea of someone treating a "rock" like a pet
had never even crossed her mind.
Anyone who thought that way must be crazy.
"Haha. A bit weird, right? Honestly, when the boss first introduced 'pet rocks,' I thought it was strange too. Figured it was just some circus comedy prop. But after keeping him in my room and caring for him... How should I put it? It feels like he really understands me."
"..."
"He can even do tricks. If I put him on a slope like this, he rolls. Wilson! Roll!"
"..."
"He can wait on command, play dead too. A bit lazy, but he's brave—never runs from strangers."
"..."
Watching that bizarre display,
the first thought that crossed the lady's mind was, naturally, "Is he nuts?"
The circus troupe had its share of mentally unstable folks.
After all, weren't they people who'd endured abusive childhoods just for being born "monsters"?
"And... most importantly, Wilson always waits for a monster like me."
But because of that, Lady Goldenwood could somewhat understand the troupe member.
The form and manner differed,
but she too had suffered a unfortunate childhood for being "born different."
If disabilities were a curse from heaven,
then blessings were just another form of it.
"No, wait, that's not right. I said I'm not a monster, but a 'special being.' Haha. Still... yeah. People's stares don't change easily. They say animals don't judge by looks, but even cats used to human hands flee at the sight of me. Yet Wilson accepts me as I am."
"As I am..."
Lady Goldenwood stared blankly at the rock named "Wilson."
A stone crudely drawn with a smiling face in white chalk.
The rock demanded nothing.
Her blessing confirmed it too—no etiquette required for this stone.
The little rock simply
sat there, waiting patiently.
Like the sky itself.
"I know I must look crazy. But really, Wilson is a great friend. He's... comforted me a lot."
"..."
It was madness.
And the fact that this mad tale was touching her heart
meant she might be a bit mad too.
After all, she and the circus folk sold illusions to people.
How could someone living in illusions not be a little crazy?
"I feel bad leaving Wilson so lonely, so I want to buy another pet rock to keep him company. With a girlfriend, he won't be so lonely at home."
"...Where can I buy a pet rock?"
"Ah, the boss is selling them for 5 talants each."
That was how Lady Goldenwood ended up buying a pet rock.
.
.
.
Numerous slaves willingly shelled out talants for "pet rocks."
It was bizarre.
But it was undeniably happening in reality.
Listening to the slaves' stories,
the value of the "pet rock" product seemed limitless—far beyond what the con artist had imagined.
"...Guess I need to order more rocks."
The con artist completely revised his sales strategy for the pet rocks.