Business Moves

Anbaixiu did not linger among the onlookers around the ice sculpture, heading straight to find Harvey instead. Even with distributors handling product sales, Anbaixiu still needed a surface-level storefront to stockpile goods and conduct business negotiations. Harvey was in charge of this shop. Anbaixiu casually mentioned he was here on business and easily walked through the door. Harvey was fretting over a mountain of forms—all new orders. The ice sculpture's promotional impact had been extraordinary, sending orders for sunscreen sweeping in like a sandstorm until they buried Harvey's desk. The trouble was that the underground factory lacked the production capacity to keep up. With only a single furnace operating, meeting the entire nation's demand was impossible. Harvey was still agonizing over how to report this to Anbaixiu when, to his surprise, his teacher walked in on his own. Harvey hurriedly rose to offer his seat. "Teacher, why did you come up?" "To inspect our progress, of course." Anbaixiu glanced over the orders before remarking, "Looks like the results are quite good. That ice sculpture promotion really did the trick." "It did far more than just the trick! Our sunscreen has already established strong brand recognition. Desert cities across the Dwarf Kingdom are trying to secure stock from us. But we can't keep up with the supply at all!" Anbaixiu chuckled. "What is there to worry about? We hold a monopoly on this market right now. If there isn't enough stock, let them wait. They're the ones in a rush, not us. We just need to take things one step at a time. Don't go hallucinating about ramping up production capacity just because orders blew up. "This brand hype is temporary, and the quantities written on those orders are wildly reckless guesses. How many people even live in the desert? Total up the numbers on these forms, and it would supply the entire kingdom for ten years! They only wrote such absurd figures because they were terrified other buyers would snap up all the sunscreen first. If we expand production to match this scale, we'll be crying over our losses by next year." Anbaixiu had conducted market research long ago. His production schedule had been calibrated to the desert's population. It might have been slightly conservative, but it certainly was not off by a factor of several dozen. What he wanted was a steady, enduring stream of revenue that preserved the prestige of the "God of Alchemy Selected" brand. Reaping a single windfall only to leave excess inventory rotting on shelves would instead devalue the brand. Harvey half-understood the explanation. Having no natural talent for commerce, he decisively suggested, "Teacher, maybe you should hire a professional." Anbaixiu replied, "Are professionals really that easy to find? People who know business are as shrewd as devils; ninety-nine percent of them want to turn someone else's business into their own. Finding someone both trustworthy and capable is rarer than finding a legend." Harvey countered, "Surely it isn't that extreme. Your standards are just too high, Teacher. There are countless shops out there, and the owners can't possibly do everything with their own hands. How did they manage to hire commercial talent?" Deeply as Harvey admired Anbaixiu, he knew full well that little of what came out of his teacher's mouth was entirely honest. When Anbaixiu had to do something himself, he exaggerated the difficulty; when he ordered someone else to do it, he dismissed all obstacles. He operated on extremely flexible standards—or rather, no standards at all. "Then I leave this task to you. You're responsible for hiring, you're responsible for vetting, and if anything goes wrong, it's on your head." The moment Anbaixiu finished speaking, Harvey knew he had fallen into a trap again. His teacher had anticipated his objection all along, merely waiting for the chance to dump the recruitment task onto him. This relentless exploitation made Harvey feel as though he had sold himself into slavery all over again. Still, Harvey could only accept his fate. After all, even his life had been saved by his teacher. "By the way, what was the deal with that ice sculpture?" Anbaixiu asked. Harvey explained, "Oh, that was Junior Sister Isabel's handiwork. Following your instructions, she created a special type of ice that looks like ice and feels cold to the touch, but melts at an extremely slow rate." "Melts extremely slowly?" Anbaixiu pondered for a moment, then murmured, "She added a special condensing agent, didn't she? But condensing agents are always colored; it shouldn't be transparent like regular ice." Harvey praised him sincerely, "You truly are incredible, Teacher. You pinpointed the core of it instantly. Isabel did indeed use a condensing agent, but as for how she made it transparent, I have no idea. I know next to nothing about alchemy." Anbaixiu did not press further. Isabel had most likely concocted a new type of colorless condensing agent. It seemed even more effective than ordinary agents, though he was unsure of the cost. A material like that would find a massive market in the desert as well. *The girl is growing up fast.* Her previous success with the youth potion had relied somewhat on luck in stumbling across a new ingredient, but this novel condensing agent was entirely the fruit of her own labor. Earlier, he had worried Isabel's sudden fame was too hollow and that she might buckle under the pressure. Now, it seemed she would eventually become a true master alchemist. This truly was an era of gathering storms, a time when talents of every kind burst onto the scene all at once. Not dwelling too much on the ice sculpture, Anbaixiu gave Harvey a few more instructions, corrected a handful of minor workflow issues, and headed off to a tavern in Sweetdew City. The drones needed promotion, and a tavern was naturally the best place to find adventurers. However, now that he knew how wildly successful the sunscreen campaign had been, Anbaixiu slightly adjusted his plans. It was time to leverage that brand's momentum. Taking a seat at the bar, he ordered a random drink as usual and directed his attention toward the adventurers, quietly eavesdropping on their conversations. With his senses capable of capturing every sound in the tavern, Anbaixiu quickly picked out a suitable target. It was a pair comprising a tiefling rogue and an orc ranger, both sighing heavily over the tribulations of dungeon crawling. To explore the underground ruins, the orc ranger had recently taken up raising rats for scouting. But the rats kept dying in droves. As their bonded master, the mental toll on the ranger was immense—he was practically on the brink of depression. Anbaixiu understood the feeling well. The bond between a ranger and their beast companion was profound, involving not only a telepathic link but also shared sensations. If Naomi were killed, Anbaixiu would feel that pain just as keenly. The orc ranger had already lost swarms of rats; the lingering shadow of so many deaths weighed heavily on him. That he had endured this long was a testament to his formidable willpower. The tiefling rogue sympathized, yet could only say helplessly, "There's no other choice. The underground is like a maze. If we don't use your rats to scout, too many people in our party will die. The bounty from our quests wouldn't even cover the bereavement payouts." The orc ranger snarled in frustration, "Then someone else ought to take a turn scouting! Isn't there another ranger in the party?! Why doesn't he have to scout?!" The tiefling rogue sighed. "That's the party leader's brother-in-law, remember?" A wave of familiarity washed over Anbaixiu. Back when he was an adventurer, he had seen plenty of parties formed among relatives and friends. In the end, most ended up fracturing far more bitterly than regular groups. The reason was simple: much like workplace romances, once things went sour, the fallout was intensely awkward. When a blood-tied adventuring party faced a life-or-death crisis and one of them failed, the fallout was far worse than in any ordinary group, because they couldn't simply kick the offender out. Yet keeping that person around inevitably drove wedges between everyone else. No adventuring party remained disaster-free forever. Take on enough quests, and sooner or later, an unexpected accident was bound to happen. It was utterly unavoidable. For that reason, family-run adventuring parties rarely grew truly great. When blood ties superseded rules, they were doomed to remain petty, small-time operations. Even so, blood-tied parties often managed a decent headcount. Thanks to their built-in bonds, recruiting familiar faces was easier, and developing early rapport came naturally. It was simply a matter of trade-offs. The two sitting before him were clearly outsiders marginalized by a nepotistic adventuring party—precisely the kind of "clients" Anbaixiu needed most. Without a second thought, Anbaixiu retrieved the smallest four-winged drone and launched it directly onto their table. The sudden appearance of such an exquisite little contraption startled both the tiefling rogue and the orc ranger. "What on earth is this?" "Looks like... a golem puppet?" "I've never seen one this small. Can mana power reactors really be built at this size?" "Wait, something feels off. This thing feels like it's carrying dark mana..." Seeing their shock and guarded posture, Anbaixiu walked over to their table, drink in hand. "Gentlemen, I am an alchemist. This is my latest creation, designed specifically for exploring underground ruins. Small though this drone may be, its payload is sufficient to carry a memory crystal. When it comes to scouting paths, it performs far better than any rat." Anbaixiu pitched his wares with enthusiasm, but neither adventurer believed a word. Having worked as adventurers for so many years, what kind of con artist hadn't they seen? Ninety-nine percent of people who opened by bragging about their miraculous products were swindlers. They had never heard of any "drone," and with no mana power reactor in sight, where did its propulsion even come from? It was probably just some wind-up toy. Knowing words alone would not convince them, Anbaixiu produced a remote controller, handed it to the orc ranger, and said, "A free half-hour trial. If you aren't satisfied, you don't have to buy. By the way, this is a genuine 'God of Alchemy Selected' product. You've heard of that viral sunscreen making the rounds lately, haven't you? Here, take these samples as a gift." Anbaixiu produced two jars of sunscreen and set them before the pair. They certainly were not going to turn down free gifts. Even if the jars contained poison, they could always have someone test them before using. Having accepted his gifts, the two adventurers warmed up considerably. The orc ranger examined the remote controller, which had only a few simple buttons, and asked, "Can this thing really scout?" "Why not try it and see? The remote control range is five hundred meters in a straight line. The functions are very straightforward: this button is for scouting, this one is to return, and this one..." Anbaixiu gave a brief rundown, and the orc ranger caught on immediately. Stroking his chin, the orc mused, "I heard the second floor of this tavern has a bathhouse exclusively for female adventurers. How about we... give it a spin?" Anbaixiu: "..." *How utterly sordid! No wonder your adventuring party froze you out!*