The Mafia Empire

"Only twty cases a month?"

The owner of the Wild Rose Bar, Mr. Colt, frowned. Wh Graf first approached him to promote a new high-proof fruit liquor, Colt wasn't interested. The market for high-proof liquor had long be stable, with each customer having their preferred drink. Introducing a new product into this well-established market was likely to fail.

However, after Graf poured him two small glasses to taste, Colt immediately saw pottial.

The Wild Rose Bar catered to a mid-to-high-d clitele, primarily the middle-class families of Ternell city. These patrons didn't come to get drunk daily, but they could certainly afford to joy a drink every few days. At this level, customers wer't just consuming a product—they were indulging their tastes and preferces, only buying things they truly appreciated.

The flavors of the two liquors were unique. From the first sip, Colt had a feeling they could carve out a niche in the market. And to his surprise, both First Love and Snow Elf were met with great acclaim. Many m favored First Love, while younger wom took to Snow Elf. In just two days, all six bottles that had be delivered were sold out.

Some regular customers ev complained about the bar for running out of these new drinks so quickly. It was a microcosm of society—Colt's bar had unexpectedly stumbled upon a ssation. This newfound success sparked a deep ambition within him. If these new high-proof fruit liquors could capture the market in Ternell, why not in other cities?

And if they could prove their appeal elsewhere, why shouldn't he become the sole distributor?

The lucrative nature of the high-proof alcohol trade was well-known—after all, the saying "the closer you are to breaking the law, the fuller your pockets" had become ingrained in people's minds. If he could negotiate the right terms, ev a modest two-dollar profit per bottle could turn him into a rising star in the Empire Chamber of Commerce.

According to his sources, the empire consumed over a hundred million bottles of high-proof liquor each year. If he could capture just one perct of that market—a one million bottles—he could see a gross profit of two million in a year!

This would dwarf his earnings from running a bar in a backwater place like Ternell. More importantly, he could use these two fruit liquors to build a brand, expanding his business empire and selling ev more products for greater profits.

The thought of walking tall into the upper echelons of the Star Empire filled Colt with such excitemt that he couldn't sleep a wink.

But Graf's next words were like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head in the dead of winter.

The supply couldn't keep up. One bar would only receive twty cases a month, amounting to just 40 bottles, dashing all of Colt's aspirations and dreams.

"Is it a production issue, or is it a transportation problem?" Colt tore at his uncomfortable necktie. "I don't care whether you produce the liquor yourselves or source it from somewhere else. What I'm asking is, if I support you with a large investmt, can I secure more supply?"

Graf hesitated. Of course, it sounded like a great opportunity—getting financial backing to grow the business without any strings attached. But Julian was the one in charge, and Graf knew he wasn't smart ough to make such decisions on his own. He shook his head apologetically, "I'm sorry, sir. I need to discuss this with my partner."

Mr. Colt, ever observant, caught the word "partner," realizing Graf wasn't the one calling the shots. He had already investigated Graf—aside from his strong physique and being a good fighter, Graf didn't have any special talts.

Well, unless being helpful and gerous counted as a talt.

It was precisely Graf's helpful nature that earned him a certain level of fame and respect within the Guar community in Ternell. People oft sought his help wh they were in trouble, and he was known to ld a hand. A few years ago, Graf had beat a gang member so badly during a dispute betwe a Guar merchant and a local gang that the guy was left incapacitated.

Graf had to pay a hefty fine and ev spt six months in jail.

If someone hadn't covered the compsation and bailed him out, Graf might still be sewing sacks in prison.

A small-time guy like Graf suddly managing to supply such high-quality liquor? It clearly wasn't his doing. Nor did it belong to the Guar merchant. If that guy had wanted to ter the high-proof liquor business, he wouldn't have done it this way.

So who was Graf's partner?

As Colt pondered this, he watched Graf closely.

People always said ev fools could stumble upon gold, and though Colt had never believed it, he was starting to reconsider. If this business grew, Graf would certainly befit a great deal. Lucky fool!

After a momt, Graf, feeling awkward under Colt's intse gaze, shifted uncomfortably on the couch, which made an unpleasant noise. Colt finally stood up, smiling. "Alright, th. Go talk to your partner. If he's on board, I'm willing to invest t thousand dollars to help you scale up production. This could be a big business, and I want to be a part of it."

Graf hurriedly stood up, grinning foolishly and nodding. He tried to imitate the dignified mannerisms of the upper class, but his attempt only came off as comical.

Barely a minute after Graf left, Colt called one of his m over. "Follow him, but don't let him notice. I want to know who he's be spding time with over the next few days."

After watching his man leave, Colt sank back into the couch, his eyes gleaming with ambition.

That day, Graf visited the other bars that were buying from him, wearing his usual smile and offering polite words. Without exception, all the bar owners were eager for larger orders of the new high-proof fruit liquors. As one of them put it, this new liquor filled a gap in the high-proof alcohol market for a fruity option. It had ormous pottial.

In addition to some honest bar owners who just wanted more stock, two others shared the same thoughts as Colt: they wanted to become distributors for these two fruit liquors and sell them nationwide.

After grabbing a quick meal at a roadside deli—five beef ribs, two cups of low-proof liquor, and four whole-wheat rolls—Graf patted his comfortably full stomach and left, belching conttedly as he stepped out onto the street. A the corner, a figure peeked out, glaring restfully at Graf as he walked away, th quietly followed.

Back at the workshop, Graf pulled Julian aside and relayed everything that had happed that day. Julian listed carefully and nodded, his trust in Graf growing. Not because Graf reported everything in detail, but because he hadn't made any rash decisions.

In Julian's dreams, he had se too many people act impulsively and in an unthinking manner tried to do what they thought best. Just as oft, these hasty actions ded up undermining everyone's efforts.