Chapter 40: Hunger Marketing and Small Profits, Quick Turnover
Once Joseph's carriage was out of sight, the long-legged girl slipped to the back door of the Paris Angel Company. After confirming no one was around, she bent down and peered through the keyhole. Inside, an elderly doorman sat listlessly in the entryway, staring at the front door.
She quickly assessed the building's layout, bit her lower lip, and moved to a window in the entryway. Drawing a thin wire from her hair bun, she slipped it into the window crack. After a couple of subtle manipulations, the latch clicked open silently.
She nudged the window open a crack and gracefully vaulted inside. The doorman, less than three meters away, remained completely oblivious.
The girl raised her hand and tossed a small pebble at the back door. It made a light tap. The doorman frowned, then rose to investigate.
The girl seized the opportunity, stepped forward, and used the back of the doorman's chair to vault over it. Her body moved with the agility of a cat, and in an instant, she vanished down the end of the entryway.
The doorman seemed to feel a faint breeze pass by. He turned to look, but found only the empty entryway.
After passing through a storeroom, the long-legged girl effortlessly avoided several shop assistants and emerged into the sales area on the ground floor of Paris Angel.
The shop was bustling, but thankfully, the staff continuously controlled the number of people entering, so it never became overly crowded.
She glanced at the throngs of people outside the glass wall, packed in like sardines, and a triumphant smile touched her lips. Then she turned to survey the shop that had piqued her curiosity for so long.
The long-legged girl strolled leisurely forward, surprised to find no traditional display counters in the shop. Instead, there were over a dozen chest-high, tiered glass displays arranged in a pleasing, staggered pattern.
On these glass displays rested an array of exquisitely packaged cosmetics. Small wooden plaques alongside them listed the product names and prices, all gleaming under the illumination of the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.
Accompanied by the soft strains of a piano playing in the background, the entire space exuded a dreamlike, high-class ambiance.
Even if one wasn't buying anything, simply browsing the shop offered a delightful aesthetic experience.
"A face mask?" She paused before a cloth-like item that resembled a mask. 'What is this?'
A tall, handsome shop assistant immediately approached her, bowing politely. "Miss, the face mask is a new skincare product our store has launched. It effectively..."
Listening to his magnetic voice, the long-legged girl's gaze drifted to his strong, upright neck, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks.
Soon, her small bag was filled with a whole host of items: Angel Water, face masks, hand cream, and more.
The store's policy was quite unusual: customers selected their goods first, then paid for everything at the end. She looked at her small bag, sighing inwardly. 'I originally only planned to buy one bottle of Angel Water, but ended up buying so much. However, these things were simply too tempting...'
A noblewoman walked past her, clutching three bags so overflowing with cosmetics they nearly spilled out. She muttered, "To be able to buy as much as I want without a price increase—my goodness!"
The long-legged girl instantly felt a sense of relief. 'See? No one can resist these darn good things!'
She lingered in the shop for nearly an hour before finally preparing to pay and leave, thoroughly satisfied. The handsome shop assistant then informed her that she could apply for a store VIP card, which offered services like free delivery and complimentary greeting card writing. Silver and Gold cardholders also received a 5% and 10% discount, respectively.
She cautiously asked, "What kind of status does one need to obtain a Gold Card?"
"Oh, no, madam," the assistant replied with a smile. "Anyone can apply for a card. You only need to deposit 1,000 livres. This money remains yours and will simply be deducted from your balance when you shop in the future."
The long-legged girl was taken aback by the 1,000 livres. She then asked, "And the Silver Card?"
"A deposit of 500 livres, esteemed madam."
As the girl squeezed out of the crowd and turned to look back at the Paris Angel sign, she suddenly stamped her foot in frustration. 'Darn it, I still couldn't resist in the end!'
That VIP card had cost her a full 200 livres. Now she wouldn't be able to see an opera or buy new shoes next month, or even the month after!
With a bitter expression, she murmured, "If only I'd accepted Mr. Weston's payment last time..."
She stopped mid-sentence, looking sternly at her reflection in the glass. 'Sorel! What are you thinking? You're not doing this for money, but for freedom and justice! Don't let money devour your ideals!'
The next day.
Early the next morning, the general manager of Paris Angel Company and the specialty store manager arrived at the Palace of Versailles. In Joseph's reception room, they reported on yesterday's sales figures.
The elderly man with glasses, formerly the manager of Paris's largest jewelry store, had been headhunted by Paris Angel Company with a generous salary. Holding a small notebook, he recited clearly:
"A total of 2,206 bottles of Angel Water, hand cream, and other products were sold, and 2,110 face masks.
"Seventy-one standard VIP cards, thirty-five Silver Cards, and forty Gold Cards."
He paused, closed his notebook, and continued, "The total revenue was 126,562 livres."
Though Joseph had mentally prepared himself, he was still astonished by the figure. 'This isn't a shop; it's a heist!' he blurted out. "120,000? Are you certain?"
"It is 120,000..." The elderly man with glasses glanced nervously to his side.
The middle-aged man beside him, with a flat nose and a slight limp, quickly bowed his head and said in a low voice, "Your Highness, this is my oversight! I underestimated the sales volume, leading to insufficient stock. After 5:30 PM yesterday, the shop ran out of products, so the revenue might have been slightly less than it could have been..."
Joseph cleared his throat, secretly giving him a mental nod of approval. 'This truly is Eman's highly-recommended former general manager of the Plymouth Shipyard, always feeling like he hasn't earned enough for his boss.'
He nodded and said, "Mr. Brent, actually, this is quite good. Hunger marketing can boost customer enthusiasm for purchasing. From now on, stock 95% of the projected sales volume."
'Hunger marketing?' Though Brent didn't understand the term, he immediately nodded and noted down the Crown Prince's request.
Joseph knew that a daily sales figure of 120,000 livres would be difficult to repeat. After all, a large portion of that was money from VIP top-ups, meaning those customers wouldn't be spending fresh money on subsequent purchases.
Furthermore, after this surge in consumer purchasing power, it would take considerable time for customers to use up the cosmetics they had bought.
However, selling seven or eight thousand livres daily in the future shouldn't be difficult. Most importantly, the Paris Angel brand effect had truly launched.
'I must make good use of this!'
He considered for a moment, then instructed Brent, "When you return, please contact the most prestigious workshops in Paris to custom-make a batch of jewelry, hats, and shoes. They must use the finest materials, the best craftsmanship, and the most fashionable designs, regardless of cost.
"Additionally, you must sign contracts with these workshops, stipulating that anything produced for Paris Angel cannot be replicated in the same style without the company's express permission."
"Yes, Your Highness." Brent nodded, jotting it down. Then he cautiously inquired, "What are you planning?"
"These items will be branded with the Paris Angel mark and sold in the specialty store. The price should be three to five times their cost. For other complementary products, we'll primarily focus on small profits and quick turnover."
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