webnovel Chapter 492: 464. The Book Sales Have Begun
Chapter 492: 464. The Book Sales Have Begun
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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They approached Caleb and Mary-Beth, greeting Caleb incredibly respectfully, bowing their heads in a synchronized display of sheer corporate submission. "Don McLaughlin! Madam McFarlane!" Thaddeus Beauregard beamed, his bald head shining with a mixture of nervous sweat and profound exhilaration. "Welcome! Welcome to the grand launch! We are incredibly honored by your presence!"
"It is a historic day for Saint Denis," Archibald Vance added, bowing deeply to Mary-Beth. "Welcoming you and the Madam to the day of the publishing is the greatest privilege of our careers. You must be very excited, Madam!"
Mary-Beth, channeling her absolute best high society persona, offered a small, composed, yet undeniably radiant smile. She nodded her head gracefully. "I am indeed, Mr. Vance. It is a thrilling culmination of our hard work."
Caleb wrapped a protective, supportive arm around Mary-Beth's waist. He looked at the three sweating executives, his sharp blue eyes assessing the setup.
He said, his voice a smooth, commanding baritone that carried over the noise of the crowd, "Of course she is excited. It is the day of my Madam. So you three had better have made absolutely sure that it goes perfectly well. There is no room for error today."
The three of them nodded their heads frantically, entirely eager to appease the man who held their lives and their fortunes in his hands.
"Flawless, Don McLaughlin! I assure you, it is absolutely flawless!" Sterling promised, gesturing widely toward the draped tables. "The printing presses ran through the night. The leather bindings are pristine, the gold leaf embossing is perfect, and the ink is completely dry."
Caleb's gaze drifted past the executives, looking at the massive, milling crowd that was currently straining against the velvet ropes, trying to get a glimpse of the tables. The sheer volume of people was impressive, but Caleb wanted to ensure it wasn't just a crowd of idle gawkers. He wanted paying customers.
Caleb then looked back at the publishers and asked the critical business question. He wanted to know how effectively they had executed the marketing campaign.
"Have you extensively advertised the publishing to the book readers' community?" Caleb inquired, his tone sharp and clinical. "Did you ensure you made people highly interested to actually come down here and see the publishing? And more importantly, are they primed to buy one when they get the chance to read the first few pages while looking around here?"
Archibald Vance, the head of the Saint Denis Times Literary Press, immediately stepped forward. He puffed his chest out proudly, eager to report on his specific area of expertise. He nodded his head vigorously, "Yes, of course we have, Don McLaughlin! We have executed the most aggressive, comprehensive marketing campaign this state has ever seen!"
Vance reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a beautifully printed, full color broadsheet flyer, handing it respectfully to Caleb.
"For the past three days," Vance explained, his voice vibrating with corporate pride, "we have bought full page, front cover advertisements in every single major newspaper from Saint Denis to Blackwater. We sent hundreds of telegrams to the most esteemed literary critics, university professors, and high-society book clubs across the eastern seaboard, teasing the arrival of a revolutionary fantasy epic and two sweeping romantic masterpieces."
Beauregard chimed in, gesturing to the massive crowd. "We didn't stop at the newspapers, Don McLaughlin! We hired young boys to hand out these beautiful flyers at every major train station, theater, and high end restaurant in the city. We promised the public a literary event unlike anything they have ever witnessed. We leaked just enough of the plot, the concept of the magical school in Harry Potter, and the sweeping, heartbreaking romance of Whispers of the Heartlands, to drive the reading public absolutely mad with curiosity."
Sterling pointed toward the tables. "And to answer your final question, sir... yes. They are absolutely primed to buy. We have set up the tables so that the public can walk along the velvet ropes, pick up a display copy, and read the first chapter. Once they read Madam McFarlane's spectacular prose... they won't be able to put it down. We have cashiers stationed at every table, ready to finalize the sales."
Caleb listened to the thorough, highly professional breakdown of their marketing logistics. He looked at the flyer in his hand. It was gorgeous. The bold, dramatic fonts, the tantalizing descriptions of the books, and the sheer quality of the paper screamed luxury and absolute necessity.
The syndicate had actually done exactly what he had ordered them to do. They had weaponized their resources perfectly.
"Excellent work, gentlemen," Caleb praised them, a genuine smile of satisfaction crossing his face. "You have utilized your infrastructure perfectly. Now... let us show the world what we have built."
Caleb offered his arm to Mary-Beth once more. "Ready, sweetheart?"
Mary-Beth took a deep, shuddering breath, her eyes shining with unshed tears of pure joy. She squeezed his arm tightly. "I am ready, my Don."
With the Don and the Madam leading the way, and Karen, Tilly, and Molly following closely behind like a royal entourage, the group walked up the marble steps toward the primary display tables.
As they approached, the three publishing executives moved to the front. At a sharp nod from Thaddeus Beauregard, the clerks stationed behind the tables reached out and simultaneously gripped the edges of the gold-tasseled velvet cloths.
With a dramatic flourish, the clerks pulled the cloths away, officially unveiling the masterpieces to the world. A collective gasp echoed from the massive crowd pressing against the velvet ropes.
Stacked in towering, immaculate pyramids were the very first, flawless editions of the books. In the center, dominating the display, were hundreds of copies of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. They were bound in a breathtaking, deep crimson leather.
The title was embossed in heavy, glittering gold leaf, catching the afternoon sun and practically glowing on the table. The craftsmanship was unparalleled, the thick pages promising a world of unimaginable magic and wonder.
To the left, stacked with equal pride, was Mary-Beth's romance novel, Whispers of the Heartlands. It was bound in a soft, elegant midnight blue velvet, the silver lettering on the cover exuding a profound, emotional sophistication that immediately drew the eyes of every high society woman in the crowd.
And to the right, completing the triad of literary dominance, was her fantasy epic, The Crystal Throne of Aethelgard. Bound in a striking, rich emerald green leather, it looked like an ancient, powerful tome waiting to be opened.
Mary-Beth stopped dead in her tracks. Her breath caught in her throat. She stared at the thousands of books, all bearing the titles she had agonized over, all containing the words she had meticulously crafted by the light of a flickering campfire. It was no longer a dream. It was a physical, undeniable reality.
Tilly and Karen let out highly undignified squeals of sheer delight, clapping their hands over their mouths.
"Oh, Mary-Beth!" Tilly whispered, tears freely rolling down her cheeks. "They are... they are the most beautiful things I have ever seen."
"You did it, honey," Karen laughed, wiping her own eyes. "You actually did it."
Even Molly O'Shea, who prided herself on maintaining a cool, collected exterior, was visibly moved. "It is a triumph, Mary-Beth. A true triumph."
Caleb looked at Mary-Beth, watching the absolute, unadulterated happiness radiating from her soul. He reached out, gently picking up a pristine copy of the Harry Potter book from the top of the pyramid. He felt the weight of the heavy leather, the smooth texture of the gold embossing.
He opened the book, the thick, stiff spine giving a soft, deeply satisfying groan that only a brand new, perfectly bound volume could make. Caleb's sharp blue eyes scanned the very first page. The typesetting was absolutely immaculate. The letters were crisp, dark, and perfectly aligned against the heavy, cream colored parchment.
He read the opening paragraph, the clever, 1899 adapted introduction to the strangely normal family living in their strangely normal house, and he couldn't help but let out a wide, genuinely thrilled smile.
The beauty of the words, the way her romantic, evocative prose breathed life into his borrowed concepts, was nothing short of spectacular.
He slowly lowered the book and showed it to Mary-Beth, holding it open so she could see her own beautiful mind translated into permanent ink.
Mary-Beth looked down at the page. She reached out, her gloved fingertips hovering just millimeters above the paper, as if she were terrified that touching it might cause the entire illusion to shatter and wake her up back in a freezing, leaky canvas tent in the Heartlands. But it was real.
She nodded her head, a full, overwhelmingly happy smile breaking across her face. Her chest heaved with a quiet, joyous sob that she managed to stifle just in time to maintain her high society composure.
She leaned in close to him, the wide brim of her feathered hat shielding their faces from the hundreds of peering eyes straining against the velvet ropes.
"Caleb," Mary-Beth whispered in a low, trembling voice, her dark eyes looking up into his through a thick glaze of happy tears. "This is your idea. The magic, the school, the boy... it all came from your head. You should be the one who is more happy right now. This is your genius on these pages."
Caleb, hearing that incredibly selfless, devoted statement from the woman he loved, just slowly shook his head. His expression softened into something profoundly tender, a stark contrast to the cold blooded mafia Don who had ruthlessly conquered the city just days prior.
"Mary-Beth," Caleb murmured, his voice a low, intimate rumble meant only for her ears, completely ignoring the massive crowd and the sweating publishers hovering nearby. "This achievement, as grand and as beautiful as it is, is a lesser one for me compared to what else I have achieved since I arrived in this city. I built an empire to keep us breathing, and I took a throne to keep us safe."
He gently reached out, brushing a stray lock of dark hair behind her ear, completely uncaring of who saw the gesture. "But more than any of that... I am much, much happier just to see you happy. Seeing this smile on your face right now is worth more to me than every single gold bar resting in the vaults of this city. You wrote the words, my love. This is your triumph."
Mary-Beth smiled at that, her heart soaring so high she felt as though her feet were no longer touching the cobblestones. The profound depth of his love and his unwavering support anchored her, washing away the last lingering remnants of her outlaw insecurities.
With the private, beautiful moment concluded, the two of them took a step back from the towering pyramids of literature. They moved to stand by on the side, taking up a highly secure, shaded position beneath the grand, striped awning of the publishing headquarters.
They stood alongside the three girls, Karen, Tilly, and Molly, who were all practically vibrating with sheer, unadulterated excitement, clutching each other's hands and giggling like schoolgirls.
The three heads of the publishing houses, Archibald Vance, Arthur Sterling, and Thaddeus Beauregard, also shuffled over to the shaded VIP area, flanking the Don and the Madam. They pulled out pristine white handkerchiefs, dabbing at their sweating foreheads, their eyes darting nervously between the massive, restless crowd and the pristine tables.
"It is time, Don McLaughlin?" Thaddeus Beauregard asked, his voice cracking slightly with the adrenaline of the moment.
Caleb gave a single, sharp nod of his head. "Let them in."
Beauregard immediately raised his hand, snapping his fingers toward the head clerk standing nervously behind the primary display table.
The clerks at this time officially started the publishing event. The head clerk, a young man with a booming voice and a crisp linen suit, picked up a gleaming brass bell and rang it loudly, the sharp clang clang clang cutting directly through the loud, buzzing chatter of the street.
"Ladies and gentlemen of Saint Denis!" the head clerk shouted, sweeping his arm grandly over the tables. "The Lemoyne Unified Press formally welcomes you! Step forward, browse the future of literature, and allow yourselves to be transported! The velvet ropes are now open!"
Two burly security men unhooked the heavy brass clasps of the velvet ropes, dropping them to the cobblestones.
The dam broke. The floodgates opened.
The people that had come specifically due to the massive, aggressive advertising campaign, alongside dozens of curious individuals who were just passing by on their afternoon errands, immediately surged forward.
It wasn't a violent riot, these were, after all, mostly respectable members of the middle and upper classes, wealthy university students, and well dressed merchants, but there was an undeniable, frantic urgency in their steps. They crowded around the three long oak tables, their hands reaching out to touch the heavy leather bindings.
The highly trained clerks didn't just stand there, they immediately went to work. They actively allowed all of the people to come and see the three books, picking up the display copies and handing them directly into the waiting hands of the potential customers.
"Read the first page, sir," a clerk offered, handing a crimson bound copy of the magical epic to a tall, skeptical looking man wearing a professor's tweed jacket. "Just the first page. I promise you, you have never read anything like it."
Of course, the clerks were also relentlessly persuading them to buy it, utilizing every sales tactic Caleb had drilled into the executives. "The initial print run is highly limited, madam! A first edition of this quality will be a collector's item before the year is out. Only five dollars for the complete volume!"
Caleb leaned back against the brick wall of the building, his arms crossed over his chest, watching the scene unfold with the cold, calculating satisfaction of a predator watching a perfectly laid trap snap shut.
At the center table, the skeptical looking professor adjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles. He opened the heavy crimson cover of the Harry Potter book. His interest had already been piqued by the relentless broadsheet flyers claiming this was a 'revolutionary fantasy epic,' but he was a man of letters, he expected cheap, sensationalist drivel.
He read the first paragraph. Then the second.
Caleb watched the exact moment the man got hooked. The professor's posture completely changed. The stiff, cynical set of his shoulders melted away.
His eyes began to track rapidly across the page, completely ignoring the shoving and the loud chatter of the crowd pressing in around him. He turned the page, his fingers trembling slightly as he was instantly dragged into a world of hidden magic, strange letters, and a boy living under the stairs.
"Good heavens," the professor breathed out loud, entirely to himself. He snapped the book shut, clutching it tightly to his chest as if he were afraid someone might steal it from him. He immediately reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a leather coin purse. "Clerk! Clerk, I must have this! Here is my money, take it right now!"
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Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 8/10
- Agility: 8/10
- Perception: 9/10
- Stamina: 8/10
- Charm: 8/10
- Luck: 9/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl MAX)
- Rifle (Lvl MAX)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl MAX)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl MAX)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl MAX)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Dead Eye (Lvl MAX)
- Bow (Lvl MAX)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl MAX)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl MAX)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl MAX)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 100x100x100)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl MAX)
- Leadership (Lvl MAX)
Money: 3,222 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 285,392 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 74 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, 1 land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, 1 Ruby, 1 Braithwaites Land Deed, 1 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, 1 Senator Pendleton Sealed Envelope, Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co., 10 Dynamites, 1 LeMat, 1 M1899, 1 Carcano, 1 Ownership deed of Doyle's Tavern, 3 Diamonds, & Important Documents & Deeds Of Cornwall
Bank: -