I Said Make My Abilities Average! (LN) - Volume 16 - Chapter 114

Chapter 114:

The Chain Store

“I’M OPENING a chain store!”

“Here we go again—completely out of the blue…”

“Well, this is Mile we’re talking about, after all.”

“Classic Mile.” 

At this point, Reina, Pauline, and Mavis could not possibly be surprised by anything that came out of Mile’s mouth.

“Anyway, you can already bend metal into chains with that superhuman strength of yours,” said Reina. “I guess if we just stocked up on a bunch of short iron rods of various thicknesses from a smithy and had you bend them all barehanded, we could turn a huge profit with barely any expenses… So, you gonna make some chain mail?”

Chain mail, in this case, obviously referred to the variety of armor that was made of metal links, not the kind of cursed letter you might get in your inbox.

“Let’s do it! We can keep a lot of different types of metal stocked in Miley’s storage, to suit any requirements, and if we have her do the production work at night, it won’t get in the way of our hunting during the day. With her handmaking everything, there won’t be any noise or stench, so she could even do it overnight at an inn!” Pauline was thrilled at the prospect.

“You expect me to work all on my own from dusk until dawn?! Do you have any idea how messed up that is?! But no! I’m not opening a ‘chain seller,’ I said a chain store!”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Even Mavis, clever as she was, could find no distinction between the two. This was understandable. Though larger mercantile firms in this world did have branch locations, there was no concept of a chain store or franchise.

“A chain store is a business model in which a large company with an abundance of capital opens a number of nearly identical stores. The name, signage, and appearance of every shop is the same, and the goods and services they trade in and so forth are all identical, as indicated by a manual. That way, a customer can shop with ease no matter where they go, always finding the store a familiar place, knowing that the quality of its goods and services will always be the same. There’s no fear of going into a shop and finding the prices are too high, or that its wares are poorly made, or that the staff have bad attitudes.”

“I see!” said Pauline, gleeful. “Plus, everyone would know just how many shops you have, which would emphasize just how influential your business is! Moreover, with common products shared between them, you can order stock in bulk, and negotiate more aggressive discounts, as well as avoid any missed sales opportunities by sharing your stock between stores. It’s easier to train your employees and recruit more help when you’re shorthanded. Mile, this is a wonderful idea! All of the problems with it aside…”

She had nothing but praise—no surprise, when there was potential profit to be made.

“So then, what are these problems?” Reina asked. “I do have some guesses, but…” She was not about to let Pauline’s insinuations go unheard.

Pauline continued, “Well, to start, there was Mile’s initial supposition of a ‘large company with an abundance of capital’… The Crimson Vow does not meet those requirements. We’d need a huge amount of funding to open multiple shops—far more than what I’ve been saving up in hopes of opening a much smaller firm. Plus, opening a number of branches requires a huge number of employees—both managerial candidates reliable enough to entrust those individual stores to and hardworking staff to labor beneath them.

“I am glad that Mile has come around to my vision of establishing a company so quickly, but to do it so suddenly on a whim exhibits a bit too much naivete when it comes to business. You need to prove yourself first with your main shop and build up client trust, and from there you can gradually expand your scope…”

“Now, just a moment!” Reina shouted. “Mile is free to help you build up your business, and when the time comes, I have no issue donating part of my share of the party funds and helping you guard the caravans transporting your goods and such—but that needs to come after I’m an A-rank hunter! Do you think I’m gonna sit by and let you monopolize her time when we haven’t even yet made it to B-rank?!”

“Right!” Mavis crowed. “Until I make it to A rank, which might get me a knighthood with the palace, or some other high-ranking noble household, you aren’t taking Mile away from us!”

Their objections were to be expected; they both had their reasons for hoping to reach A-rank. That said…

“So, you can’t do that without Miley?”

“Ah…”

Never tread on a tiger’s tail—nor on Pauline’s. The pair now realized this, but it was too little, too late.

“Oh, I see. You can’t do it without her. And based on your phrasing, I, meanwhile, am chopped liver. Is that what I’m hearing?”

Oh nooooo, thought the pair, beginning to pale at the memory of previous incidents in which they had faced Pauline’s rage. 

“Meanwhile, you’re planning to reach A-rank on someone else’s strength, you say?”

“Guh…!”

Both Reina and Mavis were mentally quailing under the onslaught of her words. Mile thought, Big words from you, Pauline, when you’re planning to rely on my storage magic to build your business…

The ones who can already walk are using Clara as a stepping stone, Mile thought to herself. But these were her allies, her friends. She did not mind being of use to them in any way that she could. Still…

Are they all planning their futures under the assumption that I’ll be with them forever? There’s no telling what the future might hold… What would they do if I were to suddenly disappear? Perhaps I should be a bit franker with them, she thought. However, Mile was still Mile.

“Please! Don’t fight over me!”

The most important thing was that she’d gotten to cross one of the classic phrases she’d always wished to utter off her list.

“No—wait, anyway, you’re all working from a misconception! I don’t have any intention of quitting being a hunter right now, nor of working as a warehouse-slash-pack mule for Pauline! And Pauline, no, that face isn’t going to work on me!”

***

“So this ‘chain store’ isn’t a corporation so much as a collection of similar stores?”

“That’s correct. Which means we don’t necessarily need skilled merchants for all of the stores. I was actually thinking about a takeout restaurant. We don’t really need trained chefs as long as they can cook to a recipe. Anyone who’s capable of following instructions should do. Each restaurant will operate at their own expense and prepare their own ingredients, meaning we needn’t provide them with capital or prepare and distribute all of the food from some central kitchen. Really, it wouldn’t be a proper chain so much as a franchise—though, uh, no one knows what that means and explaining it would be a pain, which is why I said chain store. Though I guess a franchise is just a type of chain store with no main base of operations…”

Mile’s explanation was not really clearing up much for the others.

“But if we start successfully turning a profit, won’t other similar shops start popping up? Like, if we call ours the ‘House of the Holy Maiden,’ you’d start seeing ‘House of the Hero,’ or ‘House of the Angel,’ or even something more brazen like ‘Great House of the Holy Maiden,’ or ‘Main House of the Holy Maiden,’ or ‘House of the Original Holy Maiden’…”

Pauline was correct. In a world without patents, trademarks, or any notions of intellectual property at all, it was common to see copycats like this. The moment someone without the power to defend themselves started making a killing off some new idea, everyone else leapt in to seize their piece of the pie, from larger companies to small-time merchants. From there, it was standard practice to ruin or seize the originator’s business, whether by financial means or manpower, which often included bribes to the right officials or even hiring thugs.

“Anyway, why are we even talking about getting into this?! It’s not like we’re hurting for money. Shouldn’t we prioritize getting to B- and then A-rank first?”

“Yeah. It’s unnecessary, would eat up our time, and there’s no reason for us to get involved in something that might just hinder us in the long run. I’m with Reina. We should just focus on being hunters.”

It was natural that this would be both Reina and Mavis’s priority. Pauline, meanwhile, chose to be more optimistic about the possibility of starting a business, merely pointing out the flaws in Mile’s plan so that she could direct things from behind the scenes and make something of it. Climbing the hunter ranks was of little importance to her. This would be a prime opportunity to bring Mile around to the joys of commerce, while also being a dry run for when she’d get to start her own business one day.

That said, she hadn’t intended to go into business this soon. And she knew her companions had their reasons for wanting to rise up the ranks, so she wasn’t about to back Mile too vocally.

“Y-you don’t get it! I’m not going to be running a shop myself! All I want to do is teach people the management techniques and the recipes; I wouldn’t be involved in managing them outside of the initial setup, and I wouldn’t be getting any money from them. So, this won’t have any effect on our activities as hunters. I mean, I might want to take on some ingredient gathering jobs, but…”

“You’re not going to make any money? Then what is the point of us even getting involved?!” Naturally, that was the point that most bothered Pauline.

“Mile, I’m guessing there’s some reason you want to do this, right? Or rather, you’re after something?” Mavis said, accusingly.

“Yeah! I get you’re a softie, but you know we’re not a charity,” Reina agreed. “Like, you help people you run into from time to time, but you’re not the sort to go around forcing your kindness on others. So, spill it—what are you scheming?!”

Mile could only chuckle bashfully and say, “I want to build an intelligence network.”

“Intelligence network?” the other three echoed.

“Yes. Given what we know now, I can almost guarantee you that the kingdoms in this region—Marlane and Aubram, likely Trist and Tils as well—are facing the threat of creatures from the other side of those dimensional rifts. Creatures that are more than likely hostile to the inhabitants of this world. However, while the guild and the kingdoms’ upper brass might believe that powerful new types of monsters are appearing, it’s not particularly likely that reports from a group of C-rank young ladies will be what convinces them—even if it’s true. 

“Showing them the corpse of one of those monsters is only proof that a single, particularly powerful specimen has appeared. It neither proves the existence of other dimensions, nor that there are beings that live in them who wish to invade our world. If we try to tell them that, they’ll simply dismiss us as unfortunate children who read a few too many fantastical stories and got carried away.”

“I suppose that’s true,” said Reina. The other two nodded.

Between Mile’s folk tales, the whimsical novels of Miami Satodele, the various absurdities they had borne witness to, and the very fact that the inscrutable creature known as Mile existed right before their eyes, the Crimson Vow were already primed to understand and believe such stories. It was impossible to expect the same of their country’s leaders.

“Plus, if they only sort of half believe us, there’s a chance things could get way worse,” said Mavis.

“You’re right,” agreed Pauline.

“Say more…” Mile and Reina were perplexed.

“I mean, if talk like that starts getting around, it’ll only cause unease amongst the masses, which could cause an uproar in turn. That could turn into political unrest, merchant storehouses being assailed in the name of striking back, and all sorts of things that will be inconvenient for the higher-ups. The most likely outcome is them trying to quash this information before it can get out, lest the situation indeed grow so dire…”

“Are you saying they’d conceal information just to prevent panic among the populace?! That they’d try to put a stop to us just to keep that information from getting out?”

Mile was unable to refute Mavis’s highly logical prediction.

“Yeah. So if you want to get that kind of information out into the world, you need to consider time, place, scope, what you’re saying, and who you’re saying it to. Failing to consider any of those factors is as good as suicide. That’s how this kind of business works. You can’t just go around saying anything to anyone,” Mile further explained.

The other three went quiet and pale.

“A…anyway! I’m not interested in letting any information get out that would be bad for the higher-ups! That’s why I want to open a series of shops across the land and use them as an information-gathering network. If they hear anything and it isn’t particularly urgent, they can send it along via guild courier or contract a merchant caravan. If it is urgent, they can hire a low-ranking solo hunter to deliver it. It’s a much quicker way for us to stay informed than waiting for things to get bad enough for the kingdoms to do something about it, and hoping that news gets out from there,” explained Mile.

The other three said nothing. They did not seem to be taking this proposal especially well.

Reina finally spoke. “So let’s say you succeed in getting your hands on this information before anyone else does. Then what?”

“Would there even be anything we could do about it?” asked Mavis.

“Isn’t that something they should seek international cooperation to address?” asked Pauline. “There are only four of us—what could we possibly do?”

Mile’s eyes fell to the ground as she went quiet. Not a single one of her companions was on board.

“Oh, uh, forget what I said!” said Reina.

“Yeah, that’s a pretty good idea actually!” chimed Mavis.

“A widespread network of stores, none subordinate to the others… I think this could be an important test case for the future of commerce as a whole!”

The three of them really were too sweet on Mile.

***

“I mean, it’s fine, guys,” said Mile. “I’m going to be the one teaching them the recipes. It won’t take any of our party funds, and I can handle all of the set-up work on my own when we’re on breaks…”

She’s sulking. The other three sighed.

Yes, even Mile could be peevish from time to time. After the other three had done a 180 and given Mile’s proposal their full support, it had still dealt her quite the blow to have the three of them bat it down so swiftly in the first place. Not to mention that she hadn’t even been able to refute their objections.

Can’t win an argument, so I’m off to my room to sulk like a child…

Mile began to make some additional joke but shut it down herself—which was proof enough of how irritated she was.

“Well, even if I can’t do anything about it myself, I’m sure the elder dragons will handle it! They can hit those rifts with their dragon breath and stop those invaders in their tracks! So I don’t have to…”

“Oh, she’s lost her nerve…”

“Then again, unusual monsters slipping into this world wouldn’t really frighten the elder dragons, so why should they care about it? I guess because of the edict they received from their progenitors…”

“Now for some wild speculation…”

“What is with you all?! Shut up!!”

“Oh, she’s angry…”

***

In the end, Mile did decide to open a chain of restaurants. The Crimson Vow already had more than enough contribution points to reach a B-rank, and none of the others were so concerned about doing their work as hunters that they weren’t happy to just let Mile do as she pleased.

“I’m going to start up right here in this city!”

It only made sense for the first shop to be set up in the capital of Tils, the Crimson Vow’s base of operations. 

“Hello!”

The first location was somewhere Mile was quite familiar with. No matter how much of a hometown staple she and the rest of the Crimson Vow were becoming, they were still unknown to anyone beyond the guild and those connected to it, the palace’s spies, and the few merchants who had hired them to do guard duty. As those merchants weren’t in the restaurant business, and it was a fundamental rule not to give out info about the hunters you hired, they weren’t telling their fellow merchants about the Vow. This made it unlikely that a little hunter who looked no more than twelve or thirteen would have much luck making requests of the average merchant. Even more so in other towns, where Mile intended to open subsequent shops…

With all this in mind, Mile decided to target a place where she had some credibility—one where the storefront and the staff would be reliable and free of charge, and which could be used as a successful example for other towns. A place with a lot of lateral connections and good relations with other similar establishments, despite having neither money nor power… 

In other words, the orphanage.

“We really appreciate everything you’ve done for us, Miss Mile. All of the meat and vegetables you’ve brought us have given the children so much vigor that I hardly recognize them,” said the matron of the orphanage, rushing out to bow her head to Mile.

Here at the orphanage, Mile was a VIP. She had stopped by after doing some hunting, bringing some meat that she had not sold to the guild as a donation. An entire orc’s worth of meat was an amazing gift for the orphanage to receive. These donations came relatively frequently as well, sometimes with a side of jackalope or boar, often with some wild vegetables or herbs. As far as the orphanage was concerned, someone who brought them such blessings was divine—an angel, a god incarnate.

After handing off the delivery from her inventory as usual, Mile addressed the matron. “I was wondering if perhaps you might consider working with me to run a shop here…”

“We’d be honored!” 

“Wh…?”

The response came immediately, before she even had a chance to explain what kind of shop it was or what the terms of the arrangement might be. This was either proof of just how much faith the matron had in Mile, or proof that they had literally nothing else to lose…

***

“A fried food stand?”

“That’s right! When you think about the kind of cooked foods you can get in this area, they’re usually grilled, boiled, or sauteed, right? So, now’s your chance to throw your hats in the ring, with a brand-new taste sensation. I mean, you don’t see much steaming happening, either, but steaming food takes time, and prepping anything but sweet potatoes takes a lot of work. You need a lot of equipment, too, so we’ll just have to give that one a pass.

“With fried foods, though, as long as you prep the ingredients ahead of time, you can cook the dishes relatively quickly. It’s easy for folks to take home with them, and as long as the portion sizes and the temperature of the oil stay fixed, you can always cook the same things in the same way in the same amount of time. It’s so easy, even a child can do it!”

“I see…”

The matron seemed to understand what Mile was saying—at least so far.

“We’re pretty far from the center of town, though,” said the matron. “Do you really think we’d be able to attract enough clientele in a place like this? When the only thing we’d be selling is food prepared by amateurs?”

It was no surprise that the matron, who had a few years on Mile, would be the one to point out the obvious.

“It’ll be fine,” said Mile. “You just leave that to me!”

Mile would be providing the equipment as well as the initial ingredients, so even if things didn’t go as they hoped, the orphanage had nothing to lose. At worst, it would be a waste of the orphans’ time. Compared to what Mile had given them so far, and what she would give them in the future, this was but a pittance. And if things went well…

“Let’s do it!” said the matron, gripping Mile’s hands tightly.

Indeed, she could have given no other reply.

“You can render the fat from the orcs into the frying oil, so you shouldn’t need to purchase any oil to start if you just use the orc meat that I bring you. As far as what to fry, you can obviously use the orc meat itself, but wild bird and other meat should work also, as well as vegetables. I’ll provide you a fair amount of those, but anything else, you’ll need to come up with yourselves. You should try and brainstorm other good fried dishes on your own. Once the shop really gets going, you’ll have to stock the orc meat and such on your own as well. I can only help you out while you’re building up your business. If you’re running forever on the assumption that I’ll supply you with the ingredients for free, it will distract me from my work as a hunter… I’ll lose precious time, you see.”

Lost time was a resource that a hunter could never get back.

Naturally, Mile intended to keep supplying her new business partners with free ingredients from time to time even after the shop’s business took off, but she needed to be clear with the terms up front, lest the shop be lax in its planning or assume they could count on this kind of support forever.

“Very well,” said the matron. After all, she understood a thing or two about the ways of the world.

Some mornings, a hunter might set out full of vigor, only never to return home again. Sometimes they returned only in pieces, carried back by their companions. There were likely even some such hunters who had once set out from this very orphanage. Perhaps even many… 

Joining the Hunters’ Guild was, after all, one of few professions open to orphans. 

It might be reasonable to wonder why Mile was so intent to open up a restaurant, especially given how difficult such a business could be to get off the ground. The elderly matron could intuit one reason—the initial investment cost was low. This didn’t mean they could expect to turn a huge profit; between rent, heating and lighting, wages, and so forth, the operating costs would still add up. Most businesses only needed to stock up on a number of goods that might not be easily spoiled or damaged, and train employees on how to use the register. A restaurant, however, had to deal with ingredients that might spoil, as well as a number of waitresses, chefs, dishwashers, and more. Plus, you could only allow in as many guests as you had tables, and there was no telling how long each guest might linger. There were quite a number of hurdles involved in turning a profit from such a model… Especially if your amateur chefs were starting practically from zero.

However, what if there were neither wages nor rent to pay? If all you needed were the ingredients (or the money to pay for them), the utilities, and other miscellanies? If the rest could be pure profit?

No other restaurant could compete with such a business model. Which meant no copycats would ever be able to muscle in on their market. In any other industry, their business would be snapped up by competitors overnight. But given that they had no rent or wages to pay, even the biggest business would not be able to imitate their success. 

Some people would prefer to eat in the heart of town, at regular prices. But there would be those happy to make the short trek to the outskirts, where they could both eat for cheap and get a self-righteous sense of satisfaction at helping to support “the poor orphans’ restaurant.”

Mile had not yet told the matron about the information-gathering angle, but it was significant that an eatery was much more likely to be useful on that front than a shop where the transaction consisted of nothing more than a brief exchange of currency and goods. At the same time, Mile was attempting to set her expectations in that realm relatively low, at least to begin with. 

“Thankfully, because the heat gets all the way through the food when you’re frying it, there isn’t much risk of food poisoning, and you can cook all sorts of ingredients without altering much besides the cooking time. The biggest issue is that cooking with oil can be dangerous. There’s a risk of the children getting burned, and even of starting a fire… So, let’s have them cook out on the edge of the yard, rather than in the orphanage itself. I’ll set something up with earth magic.

“To avoid the greatest risk, which is of the children overturning a hot pot of oil onto themselves, we’ll have the pots affixed to the stove to keep them immobile. I’ll also design the size, height, and enclosures to prevent the opposite—a child falling in. Assuming we have sufficient manpower here, we should have one of the elder children take on the job of supervising the pot, for the sake of maintaining safety.” 

Mile had put a lot of thought into this. Cooking with oil was indeed a bit dangerous, but given both the prep and cook time involved in steaming, she had felt it might be too difficult for a layperson attempting to cook a large number of meals in a short period of time. Besides, she wasn’t actually all that familiar with steamed food. And so, fried food it was.

If a little oil got out of hand and caused burns, it could probably be taken care of with some healing magic. She didn’t want the children to have to experience any pain, but perhaps she felt that was still within acceptable bounds…

And so, the groundwork for store number one was laid.

***

“Talks for shop number one are off to a wonderful start!” Mile announced happily over dinner, before heading up alone to the party’s room. She was likely drawing up plans to go over at the orphanage the next day. 

The other three members of the Crimson Vow remained behind in the living room, sipping their after-dinner tea.

“What do you think of all this?” asked Reina.

“What indeed…” Pauline sighed, shrugging her shoulders in a way Mavis often did.

“I mean, I suppose you can’t rely on any single person for information gathering and forwarding and stuff. You could hire a hunter, but that hunter isn’t always gonna be in the same town, and I can’t imagine anyone taking a weird job like that in the first place when they don’t even know what it’s for. You could request information of the guild, but then you’d be relying on the guild itself to already have the information. At that point, it would have already been circulated to all the local hunters, and to the guild branches in other towns. Requesting info from them would be futile and only get you what you needed completely after the fact… But still, I don’t think asking the orphanage to handle this is the smartest idea, either,” Mavis mused, shrugging as well.

“Obviously not,” said Reina. “There are other, easier ways of doing this, but she’s going through a lot of trouble to try and use the orphans.”

Reina had lost her father as well as the members of the Crimson Lightning, who had looked after her following his death. It was quite likely that, had she not become aware of her magical abilities, she would have ended up in an orphanage as well. In fact, that would have been the most positive of outcomes for a girl in her position. If she had been unlucky, she could have ended up another urchin in the slums, likely dead before she was even an adult. 

As such, it stood to reason that Reina would be thinking about the orphans. Knowing that Mile was always providing for the children at the orphanage, and the urchins who lived along the riverbank, Reina did what she could to support them as well. Thus, she had realized from the start that Mile was really just using this information network or what-have-you as an excuse to provide the orphanage with a means of continued support.

Yet as much as she might want to aid the orphanage, Reina could not carry an entire orc by herself. Additionally, she was lacking in culinary skill…to a shocking degree. In fact, Mile had shouted at her, inscrutably, “What the heck?! Is your name Chizuru-san?! Are you running some traditional ryokan or something?!”

“Well, she probably just wants an excuse to play with all of the orphans, so let’s let her have this,” Reina sighed. “We’ve already trekked to other parts of the country to humor her—we might as well consider this as another excuse to travel.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s not too much to ask…”

“We still do owe her quite a bit,” Pauline agreed.

They certainly did—for all the magic and sword lessons, and for helping with their households, and for Mavis’s left arm, and much, much more…

They really did rely too much on her.

Reina, however, felt differently. “Don’t be ridiculous! We don’t protect her and try to make her wishes come true because we ‘owe’ her anything!”

“Ah…”

Reina was correct. The reason that they worked so hard for Mile was…

“For as long as the crimson blood flows through our veins…”

“Our friendship lives on eternal!!!”

“Awww, you guys…”

Up in their room, tears welled in Mile’s eyes. They had such loud voices that Mile’s sharp ears could hear every last word they said.

***

“Hyah!”

Knead, knead, knead… Whoosh!

“The building is now complete!”

Using earth magic, Mile had just constructed a small structure in the corner of the yard, a short distance from the main orphanage. Though she referred to what she had done as earth magic, the building seemed to be constructed of stone—much like her portable bathhouse and toilets.

As one might guess, this was the booth from which the orphans would be selling their fried food, with all of the cooking implements inside. By making it of stone, and keeping some distance between the booth and the orphanage, it was less likely that it might cause the orphanage to go up in flames.

“Ha!”

Knead, knead, knead… Slam!

“The stove and cookware and shelves for setting the finished dishes on are complete, along with all the rest!”

“Yaaaaaaaaay!!!”

The adults working at the orphanage were flabbergasted, but the orphans were overjoyed.

As usual, Mile’s abilities defied common sense.

“Now, I just need to use some magic to patch up an old, busted pot and fix it to the stove. It’ll be a little annoying, since you’ll have to use a small pan or ladle to change out the old oil, but I’d say that’s preferable than risking any incidents with the pot getting knocked over, yes?”

The adults all nodded.

She was using a kettle instead of a frying pan because the former could be fitted and perfectly affixed to the stove. Safety first. She had visited this orphanage regularly enough to know that they had a number of broken, rusted pots in the storage room, which she would be fixing up with magic for that purpose. No matter how damaged they may have been, the workers at the orphanage simply couldn’t bring themselves to discard something made of metal. Mile, once a citizen of Japan, understood this feeling well. It was the spirit of mottainai—letting nothing go to waste. Or put in other words: frugality.

The stove and kettle would be needed not only for frying the food but for boiling the orc meat down into lard. Mile crafted a second stove for this purpose.

“Oh no, I’m out of pots!”

Obviously, she’d need another vessel for the lard. As before, a fixed kettle was preferable, so as to avoid accidents.

“I’ll use the old one for the lard and go get another one to do the frying,” she said. She could easily find some pot full of holes from somewhere or other, or else buy one for cheap at a secondhand shop and repair it. She would handle it later. 

She also prepped a number of smaller stoves for other dishes, making some last-minute adjustments based on the staffers’ advice. These were set up just in case they decided to serve some side dishes at some point, along with their main entrees. A backup stove would also be needed for serving tea and hot water.

“Okay, so we just need one more pot, some pans, containers, and ingredients, and we’ll be ready to go. I think we should be ready to open next week.”

Mile had plenty of orcs in her inventory to get them going. In fact, she had built up something of a stash that she could sell off little by little. With a variety of other ingredients already prepared, all that remained was to arrange for the missing cooking utensils and to train the children in cooking and serving.

And to go make a certain proposal…

***

A few days later, Mile’s new fried food stand, I Can Fry, was ready for business. Situated in the corner of the yard at an orphanage not far from the center of the city, the shop was being run by the children of the orphanage, with the adults employed in running the orphanage and other volunteers acting as support staff. In truth, the adults were mainly there as a precaution, to keep the children safe as they worked with hot oil and fire, and to deal with anyone who might try to step out of line, skip on the bill, or make off with the cash box simply because they were dealing with children. 

For the most part, the work of running the stand would be left to the orphans. The whole point of the exercise was to give the children a sense of independence, grow their self-confidence, and fortify them for life after the orphanage. Thankfully, all of the adults, the matron included, were fully on board with this plan. 

“Well, golly gosh, y’all really do got things cookin’ here. Saw them ‘storage girls’ advertisin’ this place and decided to come!” said one of a group of five men as they tromped into the orphanage yard, taking their seats.

After them came a number of other groups, some even including women. Naturally, most of these groups were parties of hunters, but among the others were low-ranking soldiers and even some local thugs. Fortunately, the thugs were there for food, not crime, and they chatted cheerfully with their companions. Whether thanks to the Crimson Vow’s advertising, because they hoped to chip in to help the orphanage out, or simply as a result of people wanting to eat some of the dishes created by Mile (renowned chef that she was)—whatever their reasons, the guests were all here.

Of course, there were those among the hunters, soldiers, and thugs who had once been orphans themselves. And there were those who knew their own children might one day end up parentless, cared for by this very organization. Almost all the people present had at least some degree of sympathy for the orphanage and its inhabitants. 

The children serving as waitstaff scurried around, menus in hand. The customers could go to the stall to order their own food and drinks, or they could order them from the young waitstaff. This eliminated the need for anyone to leave their seat to purchase more food when they were already in the middle of eating, drinking, and making merry. The menu stated plainly that if one took advantage of the services of the waitstaff, tips were encouraged. These tips were meagre, equivalent to roughly twenty or thirty yen—and they were not compulsory. But they made the children very happy. Indeed, that little bit of money earned those well-off guests who tipped them the adoring gazes of the children, who smiled and thanked them and muttered to themselves, “Maybe now we’ll have a bit more to eat…”

To low-ranking hunters, used to being at the very bottom of their profession’s pecking order, the feeling of improving these children’s lives had an almost narcotic effect. 

This was all by design, of course. Mile knew that the next time a customer placed an order, the tip would be a bit bigger.

All the children could serve was food, tea, and plain water, hot or cold—but that wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy every customer. Given that most of the food being served was fried, sooner or later, someone was bound to shout, “Bring out the booze!” However, there were a number of problems with having children selling alcohol. The sale and provision of alcohol was regulated by the Merchants’ Guild, and an enterprise of this scope would certainly surpass the bounds of an orphanage’s meager operating expenses. To deal with this, Mile had decided to ask a tavern owner to open a branch location on site. The guild would have no issue with such a setup, and having only a single employee there would suffice to serve the customers present.

The children could still be waiters, and having this restaurant operate in tandem with a tavern had a lot of advantages—namely, keeping customers from trying anything weird with the store staff or getting violent and messing up the place. Even the most lawless of guests would never lay a hand on a tavern associate or cause damages to the shop. At most, they might heckle the waitresses a bit, or smash a glass or a plate in the midst of a brawl, maybe dent a chair or table. And in that last case, they would compensate the establishment for any damages after the fact—assuming they couldn’t petition the owner to let them off the hook, that was.

All this, naturally, was because the tavern they were frequenting might go out of business if they didn’t toe the line. You’d have to be crazy to purposely ruin the place where you came to eat, drink, and wind down from the day. Besides, doing anything to harm a tavern would earn you the ire of the Hunters’ and Mercenaries’ Guild, soldiers, other townsfolk, and everything that came with said ire. As such, most tavern brawls were kept to a moderate level, with damages to the establishment itself deemed taboo. If chairs, tables, barrels, and bottles of liquor were smashed every time there was a fight, the waitresses assaulted and the barkeep shot dead like in a western, the business would be shuttered in an instant, and no one would dare to open a replacement.

Only the young and clueless would ever commit such shenanigans—and they were swiftly corrected by the old-timers, who didn’t hesitate to extract compensation from their coin purses before booting them out the door.

Now to return to our scene, where the very first order placed was making its way to its destination…

As the dish was set upon the table, one of the men from the first group of five took one bite—and then another, and another. He gobbled the whole thing down before shouting, “What in the hell is this?!” 

There had been quite a number of names that he did not recognize on the menu, so he had just ordered something at random, a dish he had never sampled before.

Hearing his yell, the customers at other tables who were still waiting for their food furrowed their brows. Perhaps this was nothing more than cheap food made by a bunch of orphans, they thought. Perhaps they had made a mistake in trusting that usually reliable party of girls who had recommended they come here. However…

“This is good… This is heckin’ amazing! I’ve never eaten nothin’ like this before! Booze! I can’t possibly be enjoyin’ this without some booze on the side! Oi! You, boy, go buy me some ale! And keep the change!”

At this, some stood from their seats to go buy some liquor themselves, while others called to children nearby to do so. A queue began to form at the tavern branch, which was nothing more than another little shack Mile had built, with a counter attached. It was of the same make as the main food stall, but it had only one kettle, for serving heated wine or ale. It was manned by a single gentleman, with the orphans to serve as waiters and waitresses and wash the wooden steins.

It truly was splendid to have a large labor force with such low living expenses.

A fried food shop. 

At first, Mile had envisioned it as nothing more than a simple stall. With the economy of labor (a reduced workload), rate of customer turnover, and a number of other factors in mind, it just seemed ideal. However, when she had presented this to the other members of the Crimson Vow and let them taste her sample dishes…

“You won’t really be able to get much information just serving things over a counter, will you?”

“Your labor costs are nil, and there are more than thirty children, aren’t there? They’d earn much more money with a normal sit-down restaurant, wouldn’t they? You can reduce the burden on the children by setting up shifts or shortening business hours. That said, think of the satisfaction they’ll gain in knowing that they’re doing something useful for the orphanage! Leave the late-night business to the pubs in town, but from noon to evening, it’s all theirs!”

“This stuff is pretty tasty, but it doesn’t taste as good once it gets cold.”

“You should have them eat it there while it’s hot and get them to buy more.”

“This really makes you crave a stiff drink, huh?”

Such were the other girls’ opinions. And so, Mile decided to ditch the original food stand idea and go with something more like a food court…even if the only shops in it were I Can Fry and the adjoining tavern stand.

This did seem to have hit the mark, as they were raking in far more money than they would have if customers were only buying a few pieces of food apiece. With the seats always packed with people sitting and eating and drinking, it created the strange illusion that the customer capacity was unlimited. Additionally, the tavern was paying a tenant fee, as well as wages for the children serving as waitresses and wash boys. This was only natural—it was not a charity, after all.

Or rather, the orphanage itself was a charity, but this was this, and that was that.

In making her initial menu, Mile had racked her brain for everything she knew regarding frying food. These were the sort of things that she grew obsessive over.

First up, there was the selection of oil. Initially, she thought of using a plant-based oil. Something like safflower or palm kernel or corn or sesame, olive, rapeseed, et cetera. Mile, with her superhuman strength, would be able to efficiently wring every last drop out of these sources, but there was just one problem: Making a plant-based oil required the plants…obviously. Unfortunately, there was nowhere to cultivate these plants in any large quantity in the nearby areas. As such, it would be rather expensive to buy them, and collecting them from the wild would only grant a small yield. 

This was when Mile recalled that she had once read online that the top tonkatsu restaurants used lard. Lard was off the table for tempura, as it hardened when it cooled, but it was just right for deep-frying! 

Most importantly, lard could be sourced from fatty pork…and orc was a lot like pork.

And thus the question of oil had been answered—and tempura struck from the menu.

As far as the frying was concerned, Mile typically used only two centimeters of oil in the pan when frying small amounts of food, though three was frankly ideal. This was one area in which she was fastidiously economical. It was true that dumping too many ingredients at once into a small amount of oil would lower the temperature and prevent the food from frying as well, but one could make up for this by keeping a skilled eye on the pan and making adjustments when needed. Deep frying did not technically require the lavish amounts of oil used in a Japanese tempura pot. Oil was expensive, a luxury item. Frying pans were shallow and wide, anyway.

However, if you were going to have untrained children doing the frying, it was better to avoid having the oil change temperature as all different ingredients were added in various amounts.

So then, what to do? You had to take a big pot or pan and fill it full of oil.

The best items to fry in lard were pork, beef, and chicken cutlets; croquettes; mincemeat patties; meat skewers; small potatoes; and so forth. But while croquettes and mincemeat cutlets were not difficult to fry, they were a pain to prepare. Beef cutlets were expensive, so those were out as well. It would look ridiculous to have a single menu item be significantly more expensive than the rest, and if any were left unsold at the end of the day it would be a terrible waste, which would have a devastating effect on budget. Of course, such things could be reconsidered on a trial basis, once the shop had been in business a while. Perhaps they could run a “daily special” at one or two locations… The advantage of running a chain of restaurants was that the results of a test at any one branch could serve as valuable feedback for the rest.

On this first day, Mile spent all her time on the kitchen side. The other adults could pay attention to the seating area—she was going to supervise the cooking.

In the days leading up to opening, the children had been well trained in cooking and customer service. Now, it was time for them to learn on the job and see if they would sink or swim. No matter what industry you were in, it was much like learning to wield a sword: All the training in the world was no substitute for the battlefield. However, Mile had faith in the pluck and resilience that the world had already beaten into these orphans. Unless something went grievously awry, she planned on keeping her mouth shut—though she would immediately intervene if something dangerous were to occur, of course.

All right! It looks like things are going smoothly. They should be able to manage this without me. If I leave them a few orcs before I head back to town, they’ll be fine. Still, I’ll stay and watch for just a little while longer…

***

A few days later, Mile had helped broker a deal to let the orphanage purchase orc meat directly from the guild and made sure they had the funds to keep their ingredients in stock. It was time for the Crimson Vow to set off on another journey…after disentangling themselves from their old friend Lenny, of course.

Mile took one more precaution before leaving, checking in with the guild master to make a request: “Please make sure that none of the hunters cause trouble for the orphans.”

The guild master snorted and replied, “Do you really think anyone would be so stupid as to cause trouble where you all are involved?!”

Jokes aside, they had known each other long enough that Mile trusted that the guild master would keep an eye on things.