Chapter 184. The Calm Before the Storm
"Look into Rupert Rosemore for me."
Aiden, who had emerged abruptly from the darkness, was holding a half-eaten chicken leg in one hand.
"……Out of the blue? Rupert — isn't that Penelope's elder brother?"
"That's right."
"Boss, I'm having a bit of trouble reading the situation."
Aiden tilted his head as if he couldn't quite understand, chewing away at the chicken leg.
"Didn't the Rosemore family officially acknowledge Y&P Trading Company last time?"
"They did."
"And on top of that, we've now got the Royal Trading Company signboard up too. There's nothing to be gained from making an enemy of Rosemore in the North."
"That's true as well."
"Hmm."
Aiden wasn't particularly well-versed in the North's affairs, but having spent time as Y&P Trading Company's Chief of Security, he had his fair share of what he'd seen and heard.
In his network of information, Rupert was a neutral card.
Acting Family Head of Rosemore and its most likely heir. Unlike the unhinged Clarisse, he was rational, and hadn't particularly taken a hostile stance toward Penelope. If anything, unlike Clarisse who threw suppressive jabs with gritted teeth, he had maintained a mild sort of non-intervention.
"And yet now, at this point, you want to dig into Rosemore's background? Is it really necessary?"
"I'm asking as a favour. I'll make sure the pay is generous, same as last time."
Aiden waved a hand at Jurgen's words.
"No, no. The pay from last time is more than enough, I'm fine. Besides, I was starting to feel restless anyway, so this works out perfectly. Is a surface-level look around sufficient?"
"No."
Jurgen reached into his breast pocket, took out a cheque, and handed it over.
"Use this for operating expenses."
"Oh?! No, Boss! You really didn't have to— kehaha!"
Aiden's face broke into a wide grin, but the moment he checked the amount, it immediately set hard as stone. He set down the chicken leg he was holding and slowly fixed his gaze on Jurgen.
"Boss, you're serious."
A sum of this magnitude wasn't a request for a casual look at someone's general movements. It meant conducting an investigation in the style of the Secret Burial Unit.
From the subject's most fatal vulnerabilities right down to the most sordid corners of their private life. Even if it meant plunging a hand into a cesspit of stagnant filth, to scrape up every last bit of sediment from the bottom.
Aiden's expression turned grave.
"Aren't you just creating problems where there aren't any?"
He asked in a low, measured voice.
"From what I know, that Rupert fellow has a decent reputation. He's famous for having nothing to shake loose. If you poke around carelessly and give him something to grab onto, it's Penelope's position that'll get awkward. Same goes for Y&P Trading Company."
"Then make sure you don't make any mistakes."
"Come on, Boss. I'm not active duty anymore…… aren't you putting a bit too much faith in me."
He scratched the back of his head with an expression of considerable discomfort.
"Understood. I'll get started immediately."
"I'm counting on you."
Jurgen gave Aiden's shoulder a weighty pat.
"Whatever comes up — bring it back as it is."
Aiden gave a silent nod and disappeared back into the darkness.
Jurgen stood alone on the empty terrace, gazing at the radiant, glittering interior of the hall.
"I do hope nothing comes of it."
For now. Consider it an insurance policy.
***
Since Y&P Trading Company was appointed as a Royal Trading Company.
Exactly one month had passed. Before long the calendar had turned, and the full breath of spring had begun to soak into the land.
"Summer's almost here……."
"It's still spring, isn't it?"
"But summer's almost here."
The season Penelope hates most in all the world. Summer was approaching.
"Ugh, it's already hot……."
Penelope slumped against her office desk, pressing her cheek to the surface. In truth, the heat she was feeling wasn't simply a matter of the weather. It was because a staggering amount of work — enough to make her head boil on any given day — was pouring in without end.
"This is no time to be lying about. There's a mountain of documents waiting for your signature."
Jurgen came in carrying a stack of papers and set it down on the desk with a thud. It was thick enough to send up a small puff of dust.
"Ugggh…… couldn't you just do it all for me?"
"What are you talking about? We do it together."
Penelope heaved a long sigh and picked up her pen.
As you can see.
The past month. It had been nothing short of a whirlwind. From the day the news of the Royal Trading Company appointment spread and Penelope and Jurgen returned in triumph — Y&P had been running without a single day's rest.
First up: Cola, the steadfast bestseller that had made the current Y&P Trading Company what it is.
"Pressure check, Vacuum Chamber check done."
Serena, dressed in a rumpled work uniform, shuffled about like a zombie verifying the gauges.
"We're a go!"
When an employee received the hand signal and pulled the large lever down — The automated Bottling Machine immediately began clattering away without pause.
Clack, hsssss! Clack, hsssss!
The regular sound of the dark liquid filling bottles and caps being sealed. It was the sound of three thousand bottles of finished Cola being produced every minute.
Cola's popularity had been extraordinary from the moment of its release, but it could not be overstated to say it had by now transformed the very way of life in the North itself.
Not confined to Nortaris alone, the Bottling Factories built across the entire North were putting out a colossal volume every single day.
On top of that, the weather was slowly warming, so naturally the flood of orders had no choice but to surge.
As one might well imagine, in order to meet the surging demand with matching production, the machines had to work without stopping — and as long as the machines were running, Serena had to keep moving too.
The person who knew the Cola production process better than anyone — better even than Jurgen — was Serena.
"Ha, I need to go home and get some rest after this."
Serena had already made the rounds of eight Bottling Factories spread across the entire North just this week. As she wiped the grime and grease from her haggard face, the team leader of Renoir Workshop approached her.
"Young lady……."
"Oh, don't even."
Serena had been dreaming of clocking off, and she recoiled in dismay. But the team leader's expression was grave.
"It's as you'd expect."
"……."
"Shall we go."
"No…… I'm done with overtime…… I'm done!!!"
Serena was dragged away kicking.
Nor was it only Cola selling well.
Chicken — now an institution so synonymous with Nortaris you couldn't leave it out. In front of the CCC store, fragrant with the warm scent of savory oil and sweet, spicy seasoning.
"Now serving ticket number 1204!"
"That's me! Me!"
"Two Half-and-half Chickens for takeaway, ready!"
Inside the store, there wasn't a square inch of space not filled with customers tearing into their chicken.
Well, that much was nothing new, but on top of that, Y&P Trading Company had introduced a new system.
"Quickly, please!"
"Customer heading to 13 Brellum Shopping Street!"
Delivery.
"Hey, where are you off to?"
"Rupert's Smithy! They're doing overtime, said they ordered thirty!"
"I'm headed to the Demon Realm Guard post! The sentries say they won't stand watch unless the chicken comes!"
Alongside customers there for takeaway, a long line of delivery riders stretched out in an impressive spectacle.
On modern-day Earth — in Korea especially — delivery was the most natural thing in the world, but not so in the North. Yet now, delivery meant fresh hot chicken brought right to your door?
When you can't be bothered cooking, when you can't be bothered going out, and yet you're feeling peckish. CCC had become an irreplaceable option.
There was one place in an entirely different league from all this commotion.
None other than Y&P's most recently launched establishment, The Golden Mermaid.
The back door of The Golden Mermaid. Dozens of men in white chef's uniforms were kneeling, or pacing about with desperate eyes.
"Please! Let me at least peel onions!"
"I was Head Chef at Lumière in the capital Albion! I'll start from washing dishes if I must!"
"Please, just let me watch Chef Brigitte's knife work even once!"
"I don't mind working for nothing! I'll sort my own board and lodging!"
They were not vagrants.
Astonishingly, these were Chefs from the most celebrated restaurants in the capital, Albion. Captivated by the 'Braised Ribs Rice Bowl' that Y&P had unveiled at the Birthday Banquet, they were pilgrims who had undertaken the hardship of this journey without complaint.
Clatter.
The back door opened.
"Oh……!"
"They're here!!!"
"Brigitte! Just once! Please give us just one chance!"
Brigitte appeared.
"Oh……."
Brigitte, who had come out to dispose of food waste, caught sight of the swarming Chefs and startled back inside. Brigitte's voice from behind the closed door.
"They're still here. Yes. Yes. Yes. Help."
The door opened again, and the one who stepped out this time was The Golden Mermaid's Head Chef, Gabriel, arms folded.
"Be on your way. We have ample staff."
"Chef! Please, an opportunity to learn……!"
Gabriel let out a weary sigh.
"Come inside for now. Who's good at peeling potatoes?"
"Me!"
"I peel potatoes extraordinarily well!"
"I can peel onions without crying!"
And it didn't end there.
From Nortaris Central Station, crowds of people poured out in a murmuring stream. Every one of them — nobles dressed in fine gowns and tailored suits.
"Is this…… the place?"
"The one they say has food of heavenly flavour?"
These were high-ranking nobles from the capital, Albion. Ordinarily they would have dismissed the whole notion with 'The North? It's cold there. I'm not going' — yet now they had made this long journey solely for the sake of fine dining.
What was known as the 'Northern Grand Culinary Tour'.
The centrepiece of this Grand Tour, spreading like a fashion through Albion's Social Circles these days, was undeniably the 'Full Ribs Spread' at Royal Kitchen.
A private room at Royal Kitchen. The moment glowing red white charcoal was loaded into the brazier, the nobles flinched — yet their eyes lit up with curiosity.
"Oh my, this is different from the Braised Ribs we had at the capital banquet."
"Indeed. That time the sauce was shallow and the meat was tender, but this is raw meat, isn't it?"
"You don't know what you're talking about. I'm told this is the original."
"My uncle tried both, and said the Full Ribs Spread here was incomparably better."
"Surely not!"
Sssssizzle——!!!
The moment an employee placed the seasoned ribs on the grill — White smoke rose up.
A subtle smokiness drifting through the room. Meat turning golden brown as the Maillard Reaction worked its way through.
"……."
"……."
"……."
Nobles wielding influence that would make any name in politics stand to attention — mouths pressed shut, waiting like docile lambs for the meat to finish cooking.
"There we are. Please, help yourselves."
At the employee's word, they all forgot their dignity at once and extended their chopsticks simultaneously.
The moment that meat entered their mouths and they began to chew.
"Ahhh…… oh, Goddess……."
"Mmmm!"
"Impossible! How can simply grilled meat taste like this!"
The outside had crisped to a delicious char and breathed out the fragrance of flame, while inside, sweet juices burst out like a waterfall.
While the capital's nobles were losing themselves in an ecstasy of meat — an employee appeared at just the right moment with the next course.
"We've prepared this to cleanse the palate."
Cold broth with a thin layer of ice floating on top. Thin, chewy buckwheat noodles.
Royal Kitchen's newest addition — Cold Noodle Dish.
"What is this cold noodle dish?"
"It looks underdone."
"Ah, so this must be the cold noodle dish my uncle mentioned."
"A noodle dish, and it's cold?"
Cold noodle dishes were an unfamiliar thing to Britannians. If a dish like this had appeared at any other restaurant, they would not have given it a second glance.
But these guests already carried the trust that the Braised Ribs had planted in them.
The nobles reached for a piece of the hot ribs with cautious but willing hands and wrapped it in cold noodles before putting it in their mouths.
And a moment later.
"This is madness. It's cheating!"
"The cold, tart, sharp broth is washing away every last trace of the rich grease! With this, you could eat ribs indefinitely!"
"Shall we order some drinks?"
"What drinks, don't waste your money! Order more ribs!"
Nobles who had visited Royal Kitchen even once came out the other side, to only slight exaggeration, rolling out through the doors.
Passing Northerners looked on at the sight and snickered.
"See, I told you — North's food is the best."
"Those capital snobs, they can't keep their heads on straight when the meat's this good."
Y&P Trading Company was becoming not merely a trading company, but the very pride of the people of the North.