webnovel Chapter 493: 465. Book Sales Continues & Chance Encounter
Chapter 493: 465. Book Sales Continues & Chance Encounter
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(A/N: Don't forget to give those power stones to Skyrim everyone!)
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"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!"
Beside him, a group of three wealthy, giggling socialites had picked up the midnight blue velvet copy of Whispers of the Heartlands. They huddled together, reading the sweeping, romantic prose over each other's shoulders.
Mary-Beth's natural, brilliant talent for capturing raw human emotion hit them like a physical blow. One of the women actually let out a soft, choked gasp, her gloved hand flying to her mouth as she read a particularly heartbreaking exchange of dialogue in the opening chapter.
"Oh, it's absolutely tragic... yet so beautiful," the woman whispered, entirely captivated. Her interest, which had started as mere high-society curiosity, had become even more profound. She slammed a five-dollar bill onto the table. "I need two copies! One for myself, and one for my sister in Rhodes!"
"I'll take one as well!" her friend chimed in, frantically digging into her reticule.
Over at the right side table, a chaotic flock of university students had descended upon The Crystal Throne of Aethelgard. They were reading the lore and the intense, visceral descriptions of the fantasy world aloud to each other.
"Did you read the part about the crystal armor? The world building is staggering!" a young man shouted over the noise, slapping his friend on the back. "Give me a copy! Take my money!"
They didn't just browse, they actively began to buy the books. And they bought them with a ravenous, unprecedented speed.
The cash registers began to ring. Cha ching. Cha ching. Cha ching. It was a constant, metallic symphony of commerce. Silver dollars and crisp paper bills were being shoved into the hands of the frantic clerks.
The atmosphere on the street completely shifted. The initial polite curiosity rapidly transformed into a loud, incredibly rowdy festival of literary excitement.
The customers who had just purchased their books weren't leaving, they were standing on the sidewalks, cracking the spines, reading aloud to their friends, and arguing passionately about the characters they had only just been introduced to minutes ago.
Their rowdy, booming voices, combined with the frantic ringing of the cash bells and the shouting of the clerks, echoed loudly down the cobblestone avenues of the city center.
"You simply must read this!" a woman shouted to an acquaintance passing by on the street in a horse drawn cab. "It is the greatest thing I have ever read!"
This sheer, undeniable public commotion acted like a massive magnet. It attracted more people. Dozens of pedestrians who had absolutely no intention of buying a book that day, off duty police officers, wealthy merchants, tired bank tellers on their lunch breaks, and even dockworkers who had saved up a few extra dollars, stopped dead in their tracks.
Seeing hundreds of respectable citizens fighting to hand over their money for a leather bound book created a powerful, psychological wave of fear of missing out. They swarmed the tables. The crowd doubled in size within fifteen minutes.
Karen let out a wild, delighted laugh, grabbing Tilly's arm and shaking her. "Look at them! They're like wolves on a fresh carcass! They can't get enough of it!"
"It's unbelievable," Molly murmured, her green eyes wide as she watched a well dressed gentleman literally shove another man out of the way to get his hands on the emerald green fantasy novel. "Alice McFarlane, you are going to be the most famous woman in the entire country."
Mary-Beth was entirely speechless. She stood frozen in the shade of the awning, her hands covering her mouth, tears of pure, unadulterated joy streaming continuously down her flushed cheeks. She watched the people of Saint Denis fighting over her words. She saw the heavy cash boxes filling up with thousands of dollars, money that belonged to her.
The sheer validation of her lifelong dream was so heavy, so profound, that her knees felt weak.
Caleb wrapped his arm tighter around her waist, holding her steady, a look of immense, predatory pride on his face.
Behind them, the three publishing executives were practically having heart palpitations. They were wiping their sweating faces furiously, their eyes bulging as they watched the inventory vanish before their very eyes.
Because of course, with the massive, rabid influx of new customers pushing their way to the front, the towering pyramids of books began to thin out incredibly fast.
The clerks were moving like machines, their hands blurring as they took the cash, handed over the heavy books, and frantically reached behind them into the massive wooden crates to restock the shrinking displays. But no matter how fast they moved, they couldn't keep up with the sheer volume of the demand.
The midnight blue velvet copies of the romance novel were disappearing by the dozen, snatched up by women and men alike. The emerald green fantasy epics were being bought in stacks by students and academics.
But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the sheer, destructive velocity of the center table.
The crimson bound volumes of the Harry Potter book were evaporating. It was an absolute phenomenon. The story completely defied the standard demographics of the era. Wealthy grandfathers were buying copies for their grandchildren, only to immediately buy a second copy for themselves after reading the first page. Young mothers, hardened businessmen, and cynical critics were all falling under the exact same magical spell.
The massive, towering pyramid of crimson leather that had dominated the center of the display was rapidly shrinking. It went from a hundred copies, down to fifty, down to twenty, in the span of thirty minutes.
"Sir! Sir, we need more stock from the back!" the head clerk yelled over his shoulder, his collar completely soaked with sweat, his voice hoarse from shouting over the roaring crowd. "The center table is almost completely dry!"
Archibald Vance looked at Caleb, his face pale with a mixture of sheer terror and absolute, capitalistic ecstasy.
"Don McLaughlin," Vance gasped, his voice trembling as he looked at the rapidly emptying tables. "They are buying them faster than we can pull them from the crates. If this pace keeps up, we will be entirely sold out of the five thousand copy initial print run before the sun goes down."
Thaddeus Beauregard grabbed his fellow executive by the arm, his business mind racing at a million miles an hour. "Vance, you fool, don't just stand there! Run inside! Get on the telegraph right now! Tell the paper mills up north to double our shipments! Tell the binding craftsmen they are working double shifts for the next three months!"
Arthur Sterling nodded frantically, already pulling off his suit jacket to prepare for the manual labor of hauling more crates from the warehouse. "He's right! The demand is unprecedented! We need ten thousand more copies printed by next week just to satisfy the city of Saint Denis alone, let alone the rest of the state!"
Caleb listened to the frantic, panicked joy of the executives, his cold, calculating mind already running the mathematics of their success. The seventy percent royalty rate he had ruthlessly extorted from them was about to make Mary-Beth richer than Leviticus Cornwall.
The legitimate, completely taxable revenue stream was officially secured, washing the blood money of his mafia empire completely clean in the eyes of the federal government.
He looked down at Mary-Beth. She had finally lowered her hands from her face, her chest heaving with deep, joyous breaths as she watched a young boy beg his father for a copy of the crimson book.
"You see that, Alice?" Caleb whispered, using her high society alias, his voice filled with a deep, profound affection. "You didn't just write a book. You started a revolution. They will remember your name for a hundred years."
Mary-Beth leaned her head against his shoulder, entirely ignoring the noise, the chaos, and the screaming publishers. "I couldn't have done it without you, Caleb. You gave me the world."
"I only gave you the paper, sweetheart," Caleb corrected her softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her feather adorned hat. "You gave them the magic."
As the afternoon sun beat down on the cobblestones of Saint Denis, the frenzy only intensified. The line of eager customers stretched all the way down the block, wrapping around the corner of the bank. The sound of the brass cash registers ringing out in the hot air became the permanent, undeniable soundtrack of their victory.
The deafening roar of the excited crowd, the rhythmic, metallic cha ching of the brass cash registers, and the suffocating, humid afternoon heat of Saint Denis were beginning to overwhelm the senses of the women standing under the publishing house awning.
For Tilly Jackson, who had spent the last several months hiding in the quiet, isolated woods of the Heartlands, the sheer volume and chaotic energy of the city center was a massive shock to the system.
Seeking just a brief moment of respite from the crushing wall of wealthy socialites and shouting university students, Tilly took a few unconscious, hurried steps backward. She moved away from the edge of the velvet ropes, looking over her shoulder toward the relative quiet of the brick facade, fanning herself lightly with her hand.
She wasn't looking where she was going.
Suddenly, Tilly bumped hard into a solid figure walking briskly down the pavement. The unexpected collision knocked the wind out of her slightly. She let out a startled gasp as she stumbled back, her hands flying up to steady herself.
The person she had backed into, a tall, impeccably dressed young Black man wearing a slightly worn but sharply tailored tweed suit and wire rimmed spectacles, was entirely caught off guard. He had been carrying a massive, precarious stack of heavy, leather bound legal tomes under his arm.
The impact caused the books in his hand to fall off, tumbling through the air and crashing loudly against the hard, uneven cobblestones. The heavy thud of the thick paper and binding cracking against the street made Tilly wince in immediate guilt.
"Oh, my heavens! I am so incredibly sorry!" Tilly exclaimed, her face flushing with a deep, embarrassed red. "I wasn't looking where I was stepping, please forgive me!"
She didn't hesitate. Ignoring the expensive silk of her brand new dress, Tilly immediately dropped to her knees on the dusty cobblestones and went to help the man gather his scattered belongings.
The young man had also dropped to a crouch, his hands frantically reaching out to gather the heavy texts. "It is quite alright, miss, please don't trouble yourself, it was my fault for not watching my step in this crowd—"
As they both reached for the exact same heavy volume of Lemoyne Contract Law, the two of them had their hands brush against each other.
It was just a fleeting, accidental touch of bare skin, but the moment their fingers met, it caused a literal, undeniable jolt of electricity to course through their bodies. It was as if one of the sparking, high voltage wires from the trolley cars passing on the street had suddenly snapped and struck the cobblestones between them.
Tilly gasped softly, instantly freezing in place. The young man's hand jerked back slightly, as if he had been physically burned, but he didn't pull away completely.
Slowly, as if guided by an invisible, magnetic force, they both looked up.
Their eyes met, looking deeply at each other over the scattered, dust-l covered books. For Tilly, the deafening noise of the shouting book buyers, the ringing cash registers, and the clattering horse hooves completely faded away into a muffled, distant hum.
She looked into his eyes, they were sharp, incredibly intelligent, yet filled with a gentle, profound kindness that instantly disarmed her outlaw instincts. The young man simply stared at her, utterly captivated by her beautiful, wide eyes and the sweet, genuine concern painted across her face. He seemed to completely forget how to breathe for a fraction of a second.
Standing just a few yards away, perfectly positioned in the shadows of the awning, Caleb Thorne saw this entire exchange happening with flawless, eagle eyed precision.
His high Perception stats didn't just pick up the physical collision; it picked up the undeniable, blazing romantic tension sparking between the two of them. Caleb took a slow sip from a glass of iced lemon water a servant had handed him, and he smiled. A wide, deeply satisfied, and highly calculating smile spread across his handsome face.
His mind, gifted with the supernatural retention of his past life knowledge, immediately recognized exactly what was happening. He remembered the lore of the world he was currently reshaping. He remembered that in the distant, original epilogue of this timeline, Tilly Jackson was destined to leave the outlaw life behind and marry a highly successful lawyer from Saint Denis.
Caleb looked at the sharply dressed, intelligent looking young man kneeling on the cobblestones, and he profoundly hoped that this man was the exact lawyer that she would marry in the future.
It wasn't just out of a brotherly desire to see Tilly find happiness and safety, though that was a massive part of it. Caleb was the Don of a rapidly expanding, future multi million dollar criminal and corporate empire.
His max level Business Skill was constantly running the mathematics of leverage. He knew that it could help massively, on an unprecedented logistical scale, if they had a brilliant, entirely loyal lawyer becoming a permanent part of the family.
If Tilly married him, this young man wouldn't just be an outside hire; he would be bound by blood and love to the syndicate. He would be the perfect, untouchable legal shield to defend their legitimate fronts from federal regulators and corrupt politicians.
Meanwhile, Caleb wasn't the only one observing the romantic collision.
Karen, Mary-Beth, and Molly, who had been standing nearby watching the book sales, of course noticed the highly charged interactions between Tilly and the handsome stranger.
Karen, never one to let a moment of embarrassment pass without capitalizing on it, leaned against one of the brass stanchions and let out a loud, highly amused snort. The blonde woman nudged Mary-Beth with her elbow, a wicked, teasing grin completely taking over her face.
"Well, well, well," Karen purred loudly, making absolutely sure her voice carried over to where Tilly was still kneeling on the ground. "Look what the cat dragged in. It seems our little Tilly has decided to go window shopping for something a bit more handsome than a leather bound book today!"
Hearing that blatant, merciless teasing, Tilly's face turned an even deeper, more vibrant shade of crimson. "Karen! Hush your mouth!" she hissed, thoroughly mortified.
Mary-Beth and Molly just chuckled at these antics. Mary-Beth placed a gentle, reprimanding hand on Karen's arm, though her own eyes were dancing with romantic delight.
She loved seeing her sweet friend experience a genuine moment of innocent romance. Molly simply hid her sophisticated smile behind her gloved hand, highly entertained by the sudden, dramatic shift in the afternoon's events.
Back on the cobblestones, the young Black man was also a bit shy as well, a slight, charming flush creeping up his own neck at Karen's loud comments.
He quickly gathered the last of his heavy law books, stacking them securely against his chest, before he smoothly stood up. He didn't leave Tilly on the ground. Operating with flawless gentlemanly manners, he extended his free hand down to her. Tilly hesitated for only a heartbeat before taking it, allowing him to help her up to her feet. The second touch was just as electric as the first.
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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: -