Chapter 170 Chapter 171 Predetermined Wealth
The two clicked well together and were having a good time. Kaslan vented to Jima about his daughter’s strong principles.
“She is unwilling to bend the law even a little. I just hope she could use her foresight to see which ship will safely return so I can buy shares in it. But she refuses, arguing that the laws of Marin City prohibit manipulating stock prices.”
“I said, heaven knows, earth knows, you know, I know, no one will find out. Yet she still disagrees. I said, other families use supernatural powers to privately do some shady things. She says she is different.” Kaslan sighed, “If others break the law, but she is the only one following it, isn’t she going to suffer?”
“That’s just how it is in the temple,” Jima agreed, then asked, “There’s something I want to ask you, please tell me the truth: Back in alchemy class, wasn’t it little Is who blew off half his face?”
“It was Is who wanted to show off in front of my daughter and tried to make frying oil, but accidentally blew up his own face.” Kaslan said seriously, “It wasn’t my daughter who encouraged him; she is completely innocent.”
“I hadn’t even asked yet.” Jima grew more suspicious and said, “The truth of this matter is important because the core of this battle revolves around Jenna’s inner demons.”
“Inner demons? How much does this devil want?”
“It wants your daughter’s life,” Jima said, “Jenna’s inner demons stem from guilt, which is why I lent you money; it was to reduce her sense of guilt. And since Is wants to threaten Jenna, he naturally has to increase her guilt. So he gave her a necklace that would enhance her feelings of guilt.”
“That lecher, who has followed my daughter around since childhood, I’ve long seen he’s not a good person.”
“But I have a question; on the surface, it seems he doesn’t have many means to increase Jenna’s guilt, and he appears to want Jenna for himself. A Jenna who has lost control will turn into a monster, certainly not matching his aesthetic preferences.” Jima said, “So how does he intend to threaten Jenna?”
“I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“What if the truth is that Jenna finds Is annoying and deliberately provokes him by making him practice ‘frying oil’ to please herself?” Jima said, “Then everything makes sense. Earlier, Is was just laying the groundwork, messing up Jenna’s mindset, then bringing up the past, revealing the truth, and accusing Jenna of deceiving herself all these years…”
Jima’s voice lowered: “A Jenna overwhelmed by guilt would surely be unable to accept it, her mindset would explode, nearing a breakdown, pleading for Is’s forgiveness. Only Is’s forgiveness could ease her mind, allowing her to regain control, and at that moment, whatever Is proposes, she would agree to.”
Kaslan knew very little about the extraordinary world and exclaimed, “My daughter is very trustworthy; she would never break her engagement with the hero.”
“Fiancée my foot! They are merely publicly dating.” Jima continued to speculate about Young Master Is’s thoughts, “Besides, he can certainly demand that Jenna repay him with her body. Of course, being a veteran in the romance game, he wouldn’t say it so bluntly; he would likely hope that Jenna would help him heal, creating opportunities step by step to lure her into bed. And Jenna would only see this as atonement.”
“Is he not afraid of revenge from the hero?”
“You mean George?” Jima scoffed, “He is just as law-abiding as Jenna; how could he seek revenge on Is? Jenna would have volunteered; it’s possible that George thinks Jenna is compensating for her previous mistakes.”
Kaslan scrutinized Jima and said, “Why does it sound like you and George aren’t as close as the rumors say?”
“Rumors are just rumors.”
“Then why are you always fighting with my daughter for the position of legitimate wife?”
Jima shot him a cold glare, her expression hardening: “Only as a wife, not as a concubine. This has nothing to do with love; it’s a matter of face. Now, let’s not change the subject, young human.”
Kaslan thought of the seemingly young demon girl before him, who was actually five hundred years old, and quickly adjusted his attitude. “Actually… I’m not very clear on this. It’s a long story…”
Next to the colonnade was a garden blooming with flowers.
Jima plucked a flower and chewed on it, saying:
“Then let’s keep it brief.”
“It might… be my daughter’s fault.” Kaslan recalled, “I heard the explosion and quickly went to see my daughter. She was terrified and couldn’t speak clearly. When I asked her what happened, she stammered, and it was only after asking others that I found out little Is had blown up his face, but no one knew exactly what had happened. I told my daughter that she was not at fault and needed to believe she was innocent. Is also said it was his own reckless action that caused the frying oil accident.”
“Perhaps he didn’t want to implicate little Jenna.”
“That’s the truth. My daughter did nothing wrong; she is so good-hearted, she just was a bit mischievous as a child and liked to hit people.”
“Don’t worry, no matter what the facts are, I will stand by your daughter.”
“Really?”
Jima crossed her arms and said, “Really. Does it matter what the truth was back then? Does right or wrong matter? What matters is that Is is obstructing us; we either kick him out or crush him. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“That makes sense,” Kaslan said, “If only my daughter could think as freely as you do.”
“And,” Jima pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to Kaslan, “this is my marketing plan. You’re the professional; have a look and see if there’s anything that can be improved.”
Kaslan took it and glanced over, commenting, “Dyeing potions, packaging, diluting, selling them in five tiers, free lottery—this is a good plan. But what’s this business about signing in to receive lottery tickets?”
“It’s to gather popularity. That way, we don’t need to hire people to line up in front of the store, and it can increase customer loyalty.”
“And there’s a lottery pool?”
“Different tiers for the lottery.”
“Ten consecutive draws? That’s fairly common, but what is this SSS-R thing?”
“It’s the codename for the highest grade of wealth potion,” Jima said unflinchingly. “SSS-R doesn’t mean anything; it’s just a made-up abbreviation. I want the people of Marin City to immediately think of wealth when they see SSS-R.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea…” Kaslan carefully chose his words to avoid offending the ‘five hundred-year-old’ demon before him, “but there’s one part that seems overly fantastical and doesn’t align with the local situation. Take the sign-in for lottery tickets, for instance; competitors could hire a bunch of people to sign in in the morning, sign in again at noon, and sign in at night, wouldn’t that mean we’d suffer huge losses?”
“Just limit it to the first five hundred per day.”
“But in that case, we need to invest additional funds to rent a venue.”
“It’s worth it. Winners need not only their prizes but also the envious gaze of others,” Jima said. “Those high-spending customers who buy ten draws also need others’ flattery.”
“Can this really work? Is there a precedent?”
“There is. A bunch of high-spending customers can cover the losses of a super money-burning theater,” Jima said. “I can guarantee this; we just need to do some localization work.”
In fact, Jima couldn’t guarantee anything, but lying had become her instinct. Besides, what could be more fun than this?
Kaslan furrowed his brows.
Jima said, “I’ve invested two thousand two hundred gold coins and personally joined in this war.”
Only then did Kaslan relax his brow.
…
…
On the third day, in the morning.
The empty tavern was filled with the smell of alcohol and the scent of damp, dust-laden air. This was a large tavern that could accommodate one hundred patrons.
A wooden sign reading, “Grand opening! New customers can draw for a free SSS-R money luck potion, helping you get rich overnight!” leaned by the door.
Behind the original bar was a shelf filled with various money luck potions of different colors. From bottom to top, there were gray, white, green, blue, purple, and orange test tubes, with the orange test tube on top, declaring its noble status.
It leaned against a red velvet wooden box, the liquid inside glowing golden yellow, sparkling like a noble queen resting on her velvet bed, waiting for her king.
Jenna sat at the back of the tavern, exuding a purity that contrasted starkly with the tavern’s atmosphere—mostly due to the dim lighting and her faint glow.
“Jima,” Jenna whispered the demon’s real name, “is this really okay? What if we deceive others?”
Jima comfortably propped her legs on the counter and said, “You’re just making a tube of gold beer shine; it doesn’t count as deception. The one deceiving is this evil demon over here.”
“But this is—”
Jima interrupted, “It’s okay; I’ll take the blame; you shouldn’t feel guilty. You healed my wounds, and this is the only way I can help heal your childhood trauma.”
Jenna felt guilty but also touched, and she did not pursue the matter of being an accomplice in fraud.
“Thank you; I will definitely heal you completely.”
Jima didn’t care much; she was more interested in Jenna’s body. She shouted to a servant who was sneakily glancing at her legs: “Hey, it’s nearly time to open; you all take that sign out!”
Three servants put down their brooms. They were all hired temporary workers who just wanted to finish quickly and get paid, so they were slow to act.
“There’s one more thing,” Jima called them back, winking at the three servants who turned around, “With the new store opening, business is tough. Please help me shout on the street; thanks.”
The servants were immediately enchanted by her, saying: “Sure!”
They pumped themselves up and took the sign out the door.
Jima revealed a mischievous smile as she took a sip of milk and said, “I just love male workers; look how enthusiastic they are. By the way, Jenna, could you help me bring over the lottery jar?”
Jenna shook her head, stood up, and turned to the shelf, pressing one hand on her chest to prevent her ample bosom from knocking over the not-so-precious money luck potions, while she grabbed the ceramic jar from the shelf and handed it to Jima, asking, “My dad said there would be stooges coming to draw; what if the top prize is drawn by a stooge?”
“Jenna, that’s called SSS-R.” Jima held the heavy ceramic jar with both hands, shook it to show the pieces inside, and said, “Only those whose love for money surpasses everything else can draw the SSS-R.”
“Is this the result of your divination?”
“It’s fate.”
Jenna wanted to ask more, but a commotion erupted from outside the door. Seven or eight hands pushed open the newly opened wooden door, and a crowd of people surged in, their clothes generally dirty, and many had tattoos on their arms.
Jima opened her eyes with desire and smiled, “Jenna, are you ready to welcome guests?”
