Chapter 102
Chapter 102. Resolution (2)
"Wow…… wow……. It's beautiful! So incredibly beautiful! Could this be heaven?"
Brigitte stepped into the kitchen and shed tears with a heaping spoonful of exaggeration.
"In all my life, I've never seen such a beautiful kitchen!"
"Why, of course not."
Jurgen's shoulders swelled with pride.
There would not be a kitchen like this anywhere in Britannia. The burners were the latest model, using gas as a matter of course. And beyond that, there was a refrigerator, ventilation duct, deep fryer, oven, mini wood-fired oven — there was not a single piece of equipment missing.
Of course, the exceptional qualities of Jurgen's kitchen did not stop there.
"Oh?! Teacher! There are more than ten kitchen knives! And they're all different shapes!"
"They differ according to their purpose."
"How extravagant! Then, what is this? There's not a single seam on the cooking table! Silver! Could it be silver?"
"It's Alchemic Steel. It doesn't rust, and it doesn't absorb odors. Miss Serena made it for me."
"Alchemic Steel?! I have no idea what that is, but it's amazing!"
Brigitte was as excitable as a small child let loose in some kind of merchandise shop.
"Now now, settle down for a moment."
Jurgen caught hold of Brigitte, who looked ready to soar past the stratosphere.
Following the previous night's executive meeting, Y&P Trading Company's course had been set.
Maximum growth in minimum time. Through this, the proof of Penelope's ability. They had to win the game while Clarisse moved 'only beneath the surface' in order to preserve appearances.
"With the CCC Franchise?"
"That's right."
Y&P had been through all manner of things, but CCC, having received the Royal Warrant, remained as strong as ever. Meaning the queue still stretched out to a full three days' worth of waiting.
If only the new weapon of the Franchise were added to this…… Even Clarisse herself would not be able to predict the pace of Y&P Trading Company's growth.
Because they were going to make it so.
"Miss Brigitte, have I ever spoken to you about the core elements of a Franchise?"
"Yes! But I forgot!"
"There are many factors, but if there's one that matters above all, it would be standardization of product and service, supply chain stability, brand image, and monitoring."
"Ahh…… I see……."
Suddenly Brigitte's eyes went hazy.
In any case. Baron Keystone had pledged to somehow manage supply chain stability, and the brand image had been soaring day after day since receiving the Royal Warrant. Monitoring would be a follow-up measure after the Franchise launch.
Therefore, the immediate task was to refine the recipes before expanding directly-managed or franchised outlets. Changing things after the Franchise had expanded would mean far more work.
"And so, right now, your role is the most important of all, Miss Brigitte."
"Yes! What should I do?"
The main items currently sold at CCC were Cola, Seasoned Chicken, Fried Chicken, Mashed Potato, and Gravy Sauce. This alone made for a reasonably complete lineup, but there was something he had been overlooking.
"For now, why don't you try eating this?"
"What is it? It's white and square."
"It's called Chicken Radish Pickle — a kind of pickle served alongside chicken. Would you believe I had forgotten all about it?"
Thinking back on it, the original sin ran deep. He had been so absorbed in the chicken and the Royal Warrant that he had been committing the unforgivable crime of selling chicken without Chicken Radish Pickle.
"I'll try some!"
Brigitte popped a piece of Chicken Radish Pickle into her mouth and chewed with a satisfying crunch.
"Wow!"
"Well?"
"It's a simple yet crystal-clear palate cleanser! The texture is fun too! The vinegar's acidity seems like it would do a lovely job cutting through the richness of the chicken!"
Brigitte had suddenly become very articulate.
"Would you show me the recipe?"
"It's nothing so grand. Here you are."
Brigitte looked at the recipe, nodding to herself as she murmured.
"It's not so different from a regular pickle. So I just need to make it a little more delicious, yes?"
"That's right — no need to feel pressured, take it at your own pace."
"Pressured?! Let me get some ingredients!"
After opening the refrigerator that housed the sacred ingredients and the various-laden shelves and marvelling repeatedly at the contents, Brigitte quickly gathered what she needed.
Without a moment's hesitation, Brigitte measured out salt, sugar, water, and vinegar. It might have looked like rough estimation, but that Brigitte had measuring instruments built into her hands had already been confirmed back at the Odéon kitchen.
"First I'm going to work on the sweet vinegar brine. I think adding Thyme and whole peppercorns while boiling the vinegar would be even better! It'll come out that much cleaner!"
After setting the sweet vinegar brine to boil, Brigitte took out carrot, celery, and beetroot and cut them into uniform pieces.
"It would be dull with only one color, wouldn't it? If you add a little beetroot when making the pickle, it turns a lovely pink. Even if it's a palate cleanser, I think people would prefer something vibrant over something plain!"
"Oh ho, that sounds like a fine idea."
"But we'll only know the taste once we try it! I think it'll need to sit for about a day!"
"In that case, shall we look at some other recipes in the meantime?"
"Of course! To be able to cook freely in a kitchen like this! I'm the one who should be asking for more!"
Brigitte and Jurgen put their heads together in the kitchen and spent half a day drawing up improvements.
"The salt going into the chicken brine feels just a touch lacking. Shall we try a different salt?"
"Chicken Radish Pickle is great as a palate cleanser, but what about a coleslaw made with mayonnaise and cabbage? After all, in Britannia, people are more familiar with cabbage than radish! I know a delicious recipe!"
"I have a secret trick to elevate the Seasoned Chicken by just 2%. And that would be — Paprika!"
It was said to be a joint effort, but it was half Brigitte's personal consulting show.
Anew, Jurgen felt the full weight of Brigitte's talent. Until now, Brigitte's cooking had been closer to a Fine Dining style — using only the finest ingredients, deploying technique without restraint. Business had not gone well on account of that, but regardless.
But Brigitte's consulting now?
Making the cooking process uncomplicated enough to minimize inconsistency between locations. Making sure materials did not consume excessive costs.
Her focus was entirely on mass-market cuisine. And the results that had emerged in just half a day were likewise exceptional.
One might say a cooking angel had crash-landed on the wrong patch of earth.
He was already looking forward to seeing what kind of response the updated menu would elicit.
Before long, the days had grown noticeably shorter. Through the window, the sun sank slowly below the horizon.
"Aaah, what a rewarding day!"
As Brigitte stretched her arms wide, Jurgen held out a card to her.
"Hm?"
"Take it."
"Yes, but what is this?"
Brigitte tilted her head, examining the thin metal card with a serial number embossed on it.
"It's a credit card."
"Th-this is a credit card?"
Brigitte had been turning the card every which way when she gave a start.
"I've never seen one in my life! Is this also made of Alchemic Steel?"
"It's a card made of platinum."
"Wooow……."
Credit cards existed in Britannia too. Of course, not electronic ones — rather, the card was placed atop a billing slip, the slip was imprinted, and then that slip was sent to a bank to complete the payment.
As such, it was a payment method granted only to a very select few of proven creditworthiness. To the point that the possession of a credit card divided class among the middle classes.
"Thanks to you, I had a wonderful time today."
Jurgen spoke to Brigitte as she politely returned the card with both hands.
"That card is for you to use. I will settle the charges."
"Pardon……?"
Brigitte froze with her mouth hanging open.
"It can be used at any shop under the Nortaris Merchant Association. The limit is set at 100 Crowns per month."
"100 Crowns……?"
The entry fee she had once borrowed with the resolve to sell herself off had been 50 Crowns. Therefore, this card's limit could be expressed as 2 Brigittes. Each month, one could purchase two Brigittes!
"Use it to buy whatever you need for daily life, freely. It doesn't strictly need to be work-related. Ingredients for dishes you've always wanted to try, or cooking utensils, say."
"R-really? Even if I buy expensive ingredients freely?"
"Of course."
"Th-then……. Can I buy the cooking equipment in Teacher's kitchen too?"
"Everything in this kitchen belongs to Miss Brigitte."
"Wow!"
Brigitte's face became that of a squirrel that had found so many acorns it had no idea what to do with itself.
It was only right that capable talent be treated accordingly. Issuing a corporate card was something he could freely offer without a second thought.
"I, I, I want to stop by some shops and pick up ingredients and do a bit more cooking!"
"Don't overdo it."
"Yes! I'll be off!"
With an energy that suggested she was very much going to overdo it, Brigitte dashed out of the kitchen. Seeing her that delighted made it all the more worthwhile to have pressed the card into her hands so generously.
She would try making all manner of things, and as Brigitte's skills grew through that, it would in turn be a benefit to Y&P. Was this not what a win-win relationship between employer and employee looked like?
"In that case……."
As the day waned, it was now Jurgen's turn.
Even Edwin Blyton of Polar Sun had employed an 'Undertaker.' Rex had assembled an Outlaw organization in the Demon Realm and even kept a Dark Mage.
It was hard to believe that the attacks on Y&P would only ever come from the open. Foul methods were likely being considered as well.
Without a doubt.
"Before poor Miss Serena gets kidnapped……. Let's draw up a plan."
Jurgen changed into his outdoor clothing and headed out.
***
In the Artists' Quarter, where Nortaris's artists gathered, there stood a three-story stone building with no signboard, its windows always hung with thick curtains.
But stepping inside what appeared, at a glance, to be a perfectly ordinary exterior, a world apart revealed itself.
A lavish interior decorated in cobalt blue tones. An elegant décor that, even decades from now, might be called 'old-fashioned', but never 'tasteless.'
The faces gathered within were even more dazzling. Noble young ladies flaunting the 'investment' their families had made in them to the fullest, through elaborate garments, perfumes, and adornments.
Indeed. This was the private salon for noble young ladies — 'The Blue Door.'
It was not a place just any noble young lady could set foot in. One might call it an exchange for verified young ladies who met a certain 'calibre' of family and, beyond that, operated their own independent enterprises.
And so, the Blue Door Salon was a place for the North's elite young ladies. Most of the young ladies who belonged here were already continuing family businesses, or were entrepreneurs running ventures of their own.
"A brooch that changes color with temperature? Hmm, isn't that a bit too flashy?"
"I'm putting together an expedition team to pioneer below the 7th floor of the Labyrinth Demon Realm, but city hall simply won't grant the permit."
"Ever since the Singer Trading Group got their hands on the exclusive rights, the quality of fabric coming up from the South hasn't been what it used to be."
The conversations that flowed were considerably more serious than gossip-driven.
"The most handsome among the nobles has to be Monsieur Montclair. I hear he's from Bellua……."
"What about Branch Manager Belheim of Devon Trust? Wasn't he extraordinarily handsome as well?"
"Oh my, that one is taken."
Of course, trivial talk like this did drift by on occasion, but that was truly a rare thing, and very seldom at that.
"Listen to her. Who said anything about getting married? Making trouble over nothing."
"I beg your pardon, what did you just say?"
"Everyone, please don't quarrel. We must maintain our dignity."
"Miss Clins started it by picking at my words!"
Truly, very seldom.
"Is that how you'd like to play it? Miss Clins, you're 5th Rank, are you not?"
"I believe you are also a 5th Rank Alchemist."
As two young ladies, who bristled at each other every time they crossed paths, were deliberating whether to remove their gloves for a duel——
―Bang
"Then why don't you take your little quarrel waaay over there in the corner? Scuffles between minor houses belong somewhere out of sight. It's called manners, yes? Ohoho!"
A young lady with radiant golden hair wound into buns made her entrance.
"Ah, I'm so……. I'm terribly sorry……."
"No, I'm the one who ought to apologize for causing a scene……."
The two young ladies, who had been just moments from igniting, hurriedly bowed their heads.
"The weather has been terribly hot lately and tempers run high. Let's all try to get along, shall we."
"Yes!"
The golden-bun young lady who had quelled the commotion the moment she walked in was named Vivian Ashford. The sole daughter of Marquis Ashford, and the owner of this salon.
Having savored to her satisfaction the admiration, longing, jealousy, envy, inferiority, and resentment aimed at her, Lady Ashford opened her mouth with a pleased expression.
"Everyone, we have a new member joining our Blue Door Salon today. I do hope you will all make her feel most welcome!"
As the young ladies tilted their heads at this sudden announcement of a newcomer, Lady Ashford clapped her hands together in two crisp strikes, and a figure appeared.
"Oh…… oh?"
"Surely not. Really?"
A cold, sharp beauty that even a fiery crimson ensemble could not conceal.
Once mocked as a 'useless flower.' Yet after swiftly dealing with two opposing Mafias, now the subject of a rising 'Mafia Godmother theory.' And most recently, using Cola and Chicken as her foundation to secure even the Royal Warrant.
"Everyone, I look forward to your good favour."
It was Penelope Rosemore.
In an instant, the murmuring swelled.
'Wasn't she expelled from The Richfield Hotel just the other day?'
'Yes, I heard the Penelope in question stepped down from the management, and someone unknown took her place.'
News travels fast in social circles.
In under two nights' time, rumors about Penelope had spread quietly — from whispers behind fans to soft murmurs beneath the dim glow of candlesticks.
If this had happened to Penelope back when she was still the 'useless flower'? That Penelope's life is absolutely ruined, they say she was caught having an affair with her sister's man and got what she deserved — and so on.
She would have been swept up in all manner of baseless slander, and to her face would have come the snide remarks dressed up in gentility.
But now……
"……."
Only silence filled the space. Not a soul dared to open their mouth carelessly.
The verdict had come down that all the 'Mafia Godmother' talk was little more than hot air.
Yet Penelope had endured years of humiliation and proved herself. She had achieved the remarkable feat of securing a Royal Warrant with a trading company less than two years old.
She was no longer someone who could be freely dismissed.
'To see it as merely a fall from grace seems too simple……. That hotel had a clear growth ceiling to begin with. On the contrary, it was likely Penelope who voluntarily stepped down to focus on her own venture, Y&P.'
'Perhaps she's thrown herself into the family succession battle in earnest……?'
'I-if that's the case, is it alright for us to even be in this room?'
'I always knew Lady Ashford wasn't close with Lady Clarisse, but…… Lady Clarisse will be tremendously displeased…….'
'I think I'd better leave.'
'M-me too……! I suppose I'd best stop coming to The Blue Door from now on.'
As a handful of pro-Rosemore young ladies quietly slipped out of the room, most of the noble young ladies welcomed Penelope with eyes full of calculated interest.
"Welcome to The Blue Door!"
"I have long heard of Lady Rosemore's success."
"I do hope we can cultivate a good relationship with you going forward, Penelope."
"CCC seems to be all the rage lately. Is it truly so wonderful?"
When something she had been waiting to hear came up among the welcome greetings, Penelope answered as though she had been expecting it.
"But of course. It is a delicacy that won the Royal Culinary Competition and received the Royal Warrant."
"I visited the shop out of curiosity myself, but even just trying to buy some for you, the queue was far too long."
"If it's a dish that even moved royalty to awe, I wonder what it might taste like……."
"I would gladly offer gold coins — is there any way it could be arranged? Hoho."
Amid the affected laughter, genuine feeling was mixed in.
The genuine feeling of: I want to try that chicken they say you can't even get in the queue……
Penelope read that current precisely. And so she had prepared.
"I couldn't very well come empty-handed to such a fine gathering with such fine company. It is a touch late in the evening, but……."
Click.
The moment Penelope snapped her fingertip, servers began flooding in, silver trays in hand.
"Oh? Oh? Could it be?"
"Surely this isn't……?"
Those gathered here were no ordinary young ladies.
By day, they laughed and took their ease at tea time, but by night they had frantically honed their abilities, nosebleeds and all. Flowers of steel who had survived a proving ground where the unable are weeded out.
CCC's Franchise would begin right here.
"The banquet I offer you all today is the Chicken Full Spread from CCC — the first dish in culinary history to be awarded the Royal Warrant."
As the well-trained servers arranged the trays on the tables and threw open the gleaming silver domes, the rich aroma of chicken exploded, filling the interior in an instant.
This was how a noble young lady fought.