The Flying Emporium

Initially, after Severin’s speech was put on a loop and the Emporium opened for business, things were still looking bright.

People proved eager to partake in the Broadcasting Event, as Severin called it.

At the same time, the event gave Severing the perfect excuse to temporarily restrict the amount of items each person could buy; the Emporium being notoriously understaffed and the now increasing number of responsibilities, such as taking care of registrations and otherwise prepare for the main event, would simply make it impossible to simultaneously keep up production and sales. Or at least that was the official reason.

In reality, it was their current predicament that forced Severin to take such measures, in an attempt to make the remaining supplies last just that much longer.

And in the beginning, this scheme seemed to work out quite well.

But it soon turned out Severin and his people had made several oversights and miscalculations.

Soon, the contrived excuses of them being too busy to take care of their regular duties very much became a reality. As the day passed and the number of customers increased, so did the number of overeager participants.

Ito an extend which far exceeded anyone’s expectations.

First, Severin had discounted the fact that this was not a competition of strength or skill. If submissions were solely to be judged based on their novelty and the entertainment they provided, then everyone could potentially win the much desired V.I.P membership. Which led to far more low-leveled and generally inexperienced groups registering than he had accounted for; in fact, even some non-classbearers expressed their interest to participate, something no one had even considered.

Secondly, the established guilds approached the matter differently than imagined.

While the rules stated one could cast their vote as one pleased, no matter their affiliation, this only applied if one was not a participant themselves. This important exception was thought up in order to at least somewhat mitigate the inherent advantage larger groups had over their smaller counterparts. To maximize this same advantage, Severin and his [Employees] had assumed these people would register as one or at most two separate groups, which by sheer size would guarantee them a certain minimum of votes.

As it turned out, far fewer groups than expected adapted this strategy, with many guilds registering several smaller groups, instead.

Not only did this result in a much bigger workload than anticipated, one which truly would have become impossible to get a handle on if it wasn’t for their restricted production and sales volume, but it became also clear, that the public screening of the various submissions, the actual main-event, would definitely take much longer than initially planned for. Certainly more than just half a day; things were slowly turning into a logistical nightmare.

Still more important, however, was how all this directly affected the demand for the transmitters, the most integral component to this whole endeavor.

Severin grew restless again.

Every single unit sold made him more anxious, as their current stock suddenly appeared utterly insufficient.

Yes, it was advertised to be automatically replenished by the System, but given their current circumstances, was this really something they could depend on? Wasn’t this situation much the same as for their other ingredients?

More and more, it seemed the problem they had tried so hard to avoid had found them, anyway.

Only that this time around, there would be no good excuse to stop the sales.

The whole event was dependent on this. And there was no going back.

The situation had become unbearable for Severin.

His anxiety ultimately peaked in the late afternoon of the second day, when the last available unit was sold, and a line of customers, all expecting their own unit, stretched to the front of the store.

Even a whole night of brooding had not brought them any closer to a solution.

All he could do now was pray to the System.

And then, it seemed, all of it, the excitement, the fear, and the anxiety of the last few days, had all been for nothing.

His prayer had been heard.

The moment coins exchanged hands was the moment a new batch of products appeared in the store’s inventory.

Waiting only for Severin to be used to restock the shelves of the store.

Mylana’s hypothesis was disproved, that much was clear. Or was it?

Either way, while his sigh of relief was long and deep, Severin hardly had the time to dwell on the matter. Not until the next day, the third since the announcement, that was.

Only on this day did the initial rush of customers seem to wane, giving Severin and all his employees a short breather. Time which was much needed to decide their strategy going forward.

Would they resume manufacturing again now that they had reason to believe their supplies weren’t limited, after all? Or would they use this downtime to take a much deserved break? And how would the actual main event in a few days look like?

Questions upon questions. Decisions upon decision.

Around noon, two of these were made for them.

As if a switch had suddenly been flipped, a second wave of would-be participants broke over them.

This group of stragglers comprised two kinds of people.

First, the ones who didn’t have their main base of operation directly in either this focal point of the Golden Mountains or around Hanvia, and who therefore only received the news belatedly.

And secondly, those who had been entirely isolated from the outside world the last few days and whose return at this point was largely coincidental.

Like for example, Samuel, his two mentees, Markus and his retinue of Eagles, and the many other groups like them who had been holed up in some dungeon or raid.

Though Severin had precious little time, as maybe his most loyal and important customers, both Samuel and Markus deserved some of his attention.

It helped that the matte black cards in their possessions had already informed their holders of the new available products and service and thus saved them at least some time catching up.

Still, the descriptions clearly didn’t paint the full picture. While they already knew about the Class-Orb Removal Device, they weren’t aware of its full capabilities.

Or that it was due to this new technology that the [Berserker’s] old, prideful mentor had somehow become Severin’s subordinate.

Even seeing it firsthand, it was hard for the man to accept.

Markus, on the other hand, was clearly more interested in the ongoing event. Or rather, its grand prize.

It didn’t matter much to him that he already had one of these memberships at his disposal. In his eyes, these cards represented more than just a cheap discount. It represented real political power. Power which would only increase as the Emporium gained more and more influence. Power which shouldn’t just be surrendered to some random adventurer.

Much to the lamentation of his worn-out guild members and subordinates, Markus almost immediately decided their participation; a short meeting with his royal sibling and they would once again depart.

The fourth day brought no old acquaintances, but passed otherwise much like the previous one, with a lot of latecomers and a corresponding amount of work.

Then came the fifth day. The day on which the first noteworthy volume of participants returned to hand in their submissions.

It was also the second to last day before the actual main event. And the day that Severin finally had to admit to himself that he had no idea how he would handle it.

Setting up a few large [Receivers] for the screening, and then call it a day, as was his original plan, just didn’t seem very realistic anymore.

And so it also became the day on which Severin went to meet Jasmine in her small fort.

Which he left hours later, with his signature under a piece of paper that declared his commitment to drastically increase production of the gravely neglected [Heating Spheres] the princess had been so interested in.

And still nothing new from the System.