The mayor and I had a long discussion, and when we were done, we settled and shook on a new deal. We had decided that the mayor would add to the construction of the tunnel on their side. Once the tunnel was complete, the Rink would be responsible for protecting the route from the tunnel to the Rink, as well as the tunnel itself. As far as monetary attachments, I was responsible for keeping my side of the route safe, and the bazaar opened on the days I agreed to. This all worked to my advantage. I wouldn’t have to dedicate resources to protecting the tunnel itself, which allowed me to move them to that exposed courtyard.
With that in mind, I traded in the goods and collect the money. It was a bit more than I had originally thought, and I ended up getting 1200 large crystals. It only reminded me just how quickly money would come and go in this world. I was scraping by with a few crystals later, and now I was swimming in them. Of course, I didn’t want to handle that many crystals, so he had given me 11 great crystals and 100 large crystals.
The most crystals I had ever obtained up until this point were 900, and this beat that by quite a bit. Yet, 1200 large crystals still weren’t nearly enough. The debt that these three people accumulated was 40 great crystals, so I was only a little over 1/4th of the way there.
Of course, I could go fetch more food that moment, and trade until I had all 4000 large crystals, but then I recalled what happened with Jacques and Gunner. The more you fill the supply chain, the less value the item has. If I traded too much food to the Rink, he would assuredly want the price to be lowered. At the very least, he’d be less inclined to buy it next time, or he may even choose to stock it up, and then sell it himself.
He probably couldn’t outcompete me in cost, after all, I spent pennies on the food that ended up being valued much more here, but he could outcompete me on convenience and reliability. All he needed to do was send a regular supplier to the other colonies, and even if I was cheaper, my unreliable supply chain would immediately stifle my ability to sell.
Thus, I had to limit how much I sold to the mayor, or anyone else here, for that matter. The mayor had exclusivity rights in the Rink to buy my food and water. That was ultimately why I couldn’t try to make a little extra selling to his merchants. Since I didn’t know what he was doing with the food, whether it was for personal satisfaction, his trading, or something else… I had to artificially limit how much I sold to him. He knew we were on our way to Twin Elms to buy slaves, but he didn’t know that I also planned to sell more food there to raise the money I needed for said slaves.
We ended up at the bottom of the elevator, and the slave escorted me out to the marketplace. I could still see Tom casually discussing things with one of the merchants. One person I was thankful that I didn’t see was the chemist that I had issues with before. I had seriously worried that my encounter with him would have resulted in me being unable to get chemicals made. Thankfully, I had found Jeri shortly after that, and it no longer became an issue.
“I do not know why you asked to have a stall reserved, but this is where you may set up your shop.” The mayor’s voice came from the gesturing slave. “I must once again remind you that I have exclusive rights to your cans of food and water, and you may not sell them in this store.”
“I don’t plan to sell in cans of food, but as long as I’m not selling them food for storage, will there be any problem?”
“I suppose not.” He responded.
The slave girl stepped back, but I noticed she didn’t return to the mayor’s office, and instead found a place nearby where she could sit and watch. Well, we were going to be here for the night, and I wanted as many crystals as I could get. I wasn’t willing to get any more out of the mayor, because that would risk messing up the local economy, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have other tricks up my slave.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
I pulled out a few cans of food from my digitizer, and then I started pulling out a portable stove and a variety of other kitchen supplies. These weren’t purchased in this world, but my world. My current wealth was much greater in my world than in this world, although most of that money was borrowed. It still meant it was easier to get such supplies there. This setup wasn’t perfect. It required propane gas, for example, which I could only acquire in my world. As convenient as a nuclear grill with infinite battery life seemed to be though, it made me nervous that I’d be irradiating the food or getting cancer or something, no matter what my Geiger counter said.
Besides, there was something about cooking with nuclear energy that felt wrong. Propane was much more natural. Thus, I started to cook a bucket of soup with canned vegetables and meat on a lit propane-powered stove. Although the Rink was gutted out, it was still an enclosed place, and soon the smell of my cooking seemed to overwhelm everything else. Most things in the Rink were boiled. It was the only way to ensure that they were safe to eat. It also didn’t produce too much smell and left most of the food particularly tasteless. Herbs, salts, and fresh food were all commodities that didn’t exist, and the art of cooking had seemingly been lost with time.
Although the mayor said that I couldn’t sell any canned food, he said nothing about cooked food. This wasn’t even the same commodity, and any government had completely different standards when it came to food being served versus food being left on a shelf for the consumer to purchase. Well, that was my argument, and if the mayor wanted to fight me on it, then he could say something and I’d deal with it then. Rather than confront me angrily, the slave seemed to be staring at the pot longingly. It wasn’t long before nearby residents and visitors started to approach me.
“Can you… share any of what you’re making?” A straggly man from the stall next to me asked.
“Two large crystals a bowl.” I declared.
The man-made a face. “Twenty crystals? That’s robbery!”
His words did make me hesitate. When I had been at the mall, it had been a special occasion. Everyone that had come there had the money to buy slaves. It was already a unique situation where someone was able to get away with charging a bit more money like you might see in a mall or an amusement park. The Rink was merely a city, and they set their prices in small crystals. Although I had typically worked with large crystals and even great crystals since I had been there, that wasn’t the norm for this world.
A normal meal in the wasteland for someone who had the money might be 5 small crystals. A night at an inn with shelter and protection could run from 10-15 small crystals. As it were, the typical income for most people in such a settlement ran about 20-30 small crystals a day, barely enough to feed themselves and survive. I was charging for a single bowl of soup the price of an entire day of work. He ended up voicing the doubts in the back of my head, but I had already stated the price and I didn’t want to give up on it now. As soon as I started making concessions and lowering the price, then I would only have to keep doing so, and with it, my profits would go as well.
Rather than responding to his criticism, I took a deep scoop of the soup into one of the disposable plastic bowls I had brought and dropped a spoon in it, leaving the steaming bowl sitting on a spare table unmolested. This scoop was a bit dishonest. I had pulled from the bottom, making sure to grab far more vegetables and meat than I normally would. It mounded up past the liquid, tempting everyone watching with a delectable sight.
“Ehh! I’ll take it!”
He nearly chucked the crystals at me before snatching the bowl. As soon as he took a single bite, his eyes rolled up in his head and he shook with pleasure. His actions were like the release of a floodgate. Seemingly everyone in the Rink suddenly headed toward my little restaurant. I had Raven collect the money and distribute the bowls while I continued to cook and serve them. Once she saw such profits flowing in, though, her attitude started to improve and she suddenly started greeting the guests with a smile.
There was no area to sit, so everyone bought their bowls and then returned to wherever they had been to eat it, their shoulders slouched and their arms up as if they were protecting their bowl from being snatched by anyone else. The slave girl appeared in front of us.
“Ten bowls, please.” She spoke with her voice, rather than the voice of the mayor.
I raised my eyebrow, but she handed Raven the bag of money, and so I dished out the bowls. I was surprised she was able to carry them all in her arms, but she took all ten at once with some skill she brought them over to the elevator. This order had been for the mayor and his retinue of bodyguards. It looked like my restaurant was a success. Perhaps, I should look into making this location permanent. I could even open up a string of restaurants across the wasteland. Well, for the moment, I’d settle for my bazaar.