Michael thought that it would be a good idea to ask Chef Gustaeu what he knew about these restaurants in the Upperwood District. He made ChatJK4 take a ntal note of it.
"And last but not least, this corner of the district is controlled by none other than Quench company and led by one of the Legacies!"
Michael rembered that Bobby owned the Quench company, which was a subcompany of the Hephaestus conglorate. They were one of Michael’s goals for obtaining a permit. He wanted to know how to apply Soo to his Mithril Artifact.
It was good to know they were so close to him.
"This part of the Quench company is managed by one of Bobby’s officers, one of his generals nad Dicky. They specialize in creating everyday tal objects for furniture. Their quality of work is said to be very close to Dwarven quality, if you can believe that."
"I can’t believe that," Michael muttered to himself.
"Anyway, those are the four companies that are going to be the major frontrunners for the Upperwood District Festival.
But we’re not competing against them. They’re in a league of their own. We’re competing against the other smaller local companies scattered about. They’re just like us, but bigger and better.
Now technically in this festival, they aren’t competing against us. They’re competing against themselves. We’re basically just the ants that live off of their crumbs.
Or to be more accurate, the big four companies eat to their heart’s content. Then, the smaller local companies eat the crumbs off their plate. And then, we are the ones that eat the crumbs off of their crumbs.
Hopefully, we get just enough to get by and pass the permit test."
With all of that explained, the four owners hoped that Michael would understand the hardships that they were about to face.
For their permit test, they had to get 7,000 sales in a week, or a thousand sales a day. Now, during normal circumstances, this was already hard to achieve.
If there were a thousand custors that walked by their stall, they would get lucky if a hundred of them even peeked through their wares.
Now, the Festival did increase the number of people walking through the Market Plaza, but the rate of their sales would actually plumt because of the increased competition from the local companies.
Even now, it seed impossible just to get 100 sales a day, let alone a thousand.
"Do you get it now, Michael?" Otto asked.
Michael nodded. "I understand completely."
Now, the four of them looked at Michael, expecting him to be worried out of his mind. Yet, the boy simply bowed his head, thanked them for their help, and went on his rry way as if he wasn’t just given the worst news of his life.
"I’ll see you all tomorrow!" he said, leaving them all shocked at his optimism.
...
...
...
Since there was still so ti left till the start of tomorrow, Michael decided to transport the Mobile Food Truck today to prepare.
He transported himself back to their headquarters to see that Sheina had already arranged everything for him in a neat manner.
"It’s been fully supplied with fuel, Lord Michael. This thing can run for two weeks straight with the refrigerator, the stoves, and other appliances turned on," Sheina reported.
"Thanks."
"I have also recruited so chefs to help you with the street food that you have prepared."
Three Rebornians wearing an apron and a white hat presented themselves to him, bowing.
"It’s a pleasure to work for you, boss!"
Michael inspected their talents and saw that they all had A-class skills related to cooking and cuisine. They were definitely up for the job, and one could even say they were overqualified with the simple street food that they were going to make.
Tony and Remy wanted to help with this too, but he told them to just focus on growing McTony’s. Their restaurant had continued to grow at a comnsurate rate with no signs of stopping. Without them at the helm, it could hinder their progress or stop it entirely.
Using the Dragon’s Whiskers ingredient for their McTony’s recipe made them unable to store it for a long ti, which ant that long distance delivery was not possible. If it was, then he would have wanted them to join in on the permit test as well.
Anyway, he was already confident with the food and the items that they were going to sell tomorrow.
"I’ll be taking the truck with now," he said to everyone.
So without further ado, he wrapped the whole Mobile Food Truck with his shadow and used his skill to transport the entire thing over to tropolis.
For normal people, teleporting sothing this large at such long distances would have been impossible for anyone not in the 8-star realm, but Michael was different. He had near limitless mana at his disposal.
A large magic circle appeared in front of him, gathering all the natural mana in the environnt to power such a mana-hungry spell.
The disturbance caused the wind to pick up, blowing across the warehouse and causing the engineers’ blueprints to fly all over the place.
While the engineers struggled to keep their hard hats on their heads, Sheina just stayed still and waited for Michael to finish his spell.
And once enough mana had been siphoned away, the large shadow underneath the truck suddenly bulged up into a do, swallowing the entire vehicle into the shadows.
Sowhere a few kiloters away from tropolis’ walls, a large shadow erged from the ground and turned into a do.
And in a split second, the shadows in the do started to recess into the ground, revealing Mobile Food Truck in perfect condition with Michael standing right beside it.
Michael looked around and noticed that the mana density in the environnt had gone down significantly.
As expected. This kind of large scale teleportation needs such large amounts of mana from both sides of the portal. The Magic Tower in tropolis would have noticed it by now.
Thankfully, I have a friend that can smooth out all the troubles with the Guild of Arcana.
...
...
...
Inside the tall black spire piercing the heavens in tropolis, high leveled magicians and wizards were in a state of panic.
"What’s happening?! Why did the mana in the air decrease?!"
"Is there a calamity?!"
"Should we panic? I’m panicking."
This was such an unusual event that they imdiately thought of the worst possible reason to explain the lessening of mana in tropolis.
Of course, in such a calamitous state of ergency, the only person that they could talk to was none other than their Tower Master.
All high-ranking magicians fled to the top floor of the tower, seeking the advice of their most respected leader.
And as they entered their Tower Master’s room, they saw the bespectacled short haired old man sitting at his desk with a letter in his hands.
Surely, the Tower Master should have noticed the weakening of mana in nature. Yet, the man didn’t look like he was panicking at all.
Instead, he looked at the letter in his hands with confusion in his face.
{Dear Mystical Friend,
There may be an instance where mana has tragically decreased in an instant. But do not panic. There is no need to raise the alarms as this is just sothing that the kid does plenty of tis.
I shall explain it to you at a later date. You too will understand my frustrations at the proper ti.
Sincerely,
Seberus Augindore}
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