By 4:00 PM, the unthinkable happened.
"We are out," Sarah said, her voice hollow.
The shelves were bare. The display models were gone. Even the half-used sample jar of toothpaste had been bought by a desperate baron who offered triple price.
Arthur stood in the center of the empty shop. Outside, fifty people were still waiting in line, banging on the glass.
"Sold out?" Duke Kaelen asked, holding an empty box. "But we brought... everything."
"We underestimated the velocity of the market," Arthur admitted. He walked to the window and put up a sign he had pre-printed, just in case: [SOLD OUT. RESTOCKING SOON.]
A collective groan went up from the street.
The Logistics eting
That evening, the team gathered in the back room. They sat on crates because they had sold the chairs.
On the table lay a mountain of gold and silver coins. It was a fortune.
Master Vane was counting it, his hands shaking. "Three thousand Gold. In one day. My Lord... this is more than the Guild’s monthly turnover."
"It is useless," Arthur said, cutting through the celebration.
The room went silent.
"Useless?" Sarah asked. "Young Master, we are rich."
"We are rich, but we have no stock," Arthur said, pacing the room. "The factory is at the Estate. The Estate is three days away by carriage. A round trip is six days."
He pointed to the calendar.
"If we close for six days to restock, the hype dies. Competitors will create knock-offs. The ’Chewing Stick’ rchant is already claiming his sticks are dipped in mint."
Arthur slamd his hand on the table (gently, because he was seven).
"The road I paved is smooth, but the horses are the limit. They need rest. They carry limited weight. To sustain this business model, we need to reduce travel ti from three days to... three hours."
Duke Kaelen laughed. "Three hours? Arthur, that’s impossible. Unless you strap the wagon to a Wyvern!"
"Biology is inefficient," Arthur muttered. "Muscles fatigue. Bones break. We need sothing that doesn’t sleep. Sothing that eats fire and breathes steam."
He pulled a piece of charcoal from his pocket and began drawing on the back of a sold-out sign.
It was a boiler. But unlike the bath boiler, this one was horizontal. It had pistons. It had wheels.
[System Notification: The Industrial Age is knocking.] [Blueprint Concept: The Steam Wagon (The precursor to the Train).] [Requirent: High-grade Steel, Coal, and a terrified public.]
"The Iron Horse," Arthur whispered. "It requires no rest. It fears no predator. It will haul ten tons of toothpaste at forty miles per hour."
Master Vane looked at the drawing. "It looks like a kitchen stove on wheels."
"It is the future of logistics," Arthur declared. "Father, we return to the Estate tonight. We have an engine to build."
End of Chapter 10
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