In the following days, the two focused on their main industry, the soap industry. And in the office of the Helmarte Soap Works which are now operating at full capacity thanks to the repaired waterwheel, Ernest and Hollen were talking to a man.
"So Alejandro, good to have you visited the factory," Ernest said.
"This is one of the best factories I have ever seen in my life," Alejandro slowly turned in place, taking in the interior of the office.
Hollen imdiately laughed.
"That’s because he reorganized everything."
Alejandro nodded.
"I believe it."
The rchant had visited textile mills.
Breweries.
Foundries.
Warehouses.
And countless workshops throughout Iberia.
Very few possessed this level of organization.
His eyes eventually landed on the production floor where workers were cutting and stamping soap bars.
"Now I understand why your company expanded so quickly."
Ernest smiled.
"Organization helps."
"That is an understatent."
Alejandro shook his head before taking a seat across from them.
Several ledgers were already waiting on the table.
As were multiple copies of a contract.
The reason for today’s visit.
Business.
Alejandro opened one of the ledgers.
"Before we begin, I have already sent word to my family in Iberia."
That got Ernest’s attention.
"Oh?"
"The mont I returned from the market, I sent letters on the next available ship."
The rchant smiled.
"They were very interested."
Hollen raised an eyebrow.
"Interested?"
"Master Hollen, a two-hundred-ton monthly contract tends to attract attention."
That was fair.
Even by international trade standards, it was a significant order.
Alejandro flipped several pages.
"House Vargas is willing to commit to supplying two hundred tons of olive oil per month."
He pointed at the docunt.
"Initial contract duration. Five years."
Ernest nodded.
That was reasonable.
Building a supply chain required stability.
A five-year agreent gave both parties confidence.
Alejandro continued.
"Price. Sixty riels per kilogram for the first year."
"After that?"
"Price adjustnts based on shipping costs and harvest conditions."
Neither side wanted to be trapped in a contract that beca impossible to honor.
Alejandro slid the contract across the table.
"House Vargas guarantees minimum monthly deliveries."
"And Helmarte Soap Works guarantees minimum purchase volus."
Hollen reviewed the figures.
Actually, he was becoming surprisingly comfortable reading contracts these days.
A year ago he would have delegated this to soone else.
Now he personally checked every number.
Several minutes passed.
The room remained quiet except for the turning of pages.
Finally, Ernest looked up.
"I don’t see any issues."
"Neither do I," Hollen agreed.
Alejandro smiled.
"Excellent."
The rchant produced an ink bottle and placed it in the center of the table.
Alejandro picked up a quill.
"Shall we?"
Ernest nodded.
"Let’s."
One by one, the signatures appeared on the parchnt.
Alejandro de Vargas.
Ernest Teucher.
Hollen.
The final signature dried.
And just like that, the agreent was official.
Alejandro carefully rolled up one copy while leaving another on the table.
Then he extended his hand.
"Congratulations, gentlen."
Ernest shook it.
"To a successful partnership."
Hollen followed shortly after.
"To profit."
Alejandro laughed.
"A businessman after my own heart."
The mood in the room imdiately relaxed.
But Ernest’s mind was already moving forward.
Two hundred tons of olive oil every month.
A guaranteed supply chain.
The first major international contract secured.
The supply problem that threatened their expansion had effectively disappeared.
And with stable raw materials secured, Helmarte Soap Works could finally focus on its next challenge.
Building factories.
An hour later, Alejandro left and then Ernest and Hollen were about to et another businessman.
This ti, it wasn’t olive oil.
It was paper.
A knock echoed through the office door.
"Co in."
The door opened and the paper rchant stepped inside carrying a large wooden case under one arm.
The mont he entered, he imdiately bowed.
"Master Ernest. Master Hollen."
Ernest recognized him instantly.
The rchant from the port market.
The owner of the paper workshop.
"Good to see you again," Ernest said.
"And you as well, sir."
The rchant carefully placed the wooden case onto the table.
Actually, he looked far more nervous than Alejandro had.
Which made sense.
Alejandro represented a large trading house.
This man represented a single workshop.
The scale wasn’t even comparable.
"Did you bring the samples?"
The rchant nodded eagerly.
"I did."
He opened the case.
Several bundles of paper rested inside.
At first glance, they looked similar.
Then Ernest picked one up.
Imdiately, he noticed the difference.
The surface felt smoother.
Much smoother.
The fibers looked more uniform.
Even the color appeared cleaner.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
"This is your best product?" Ernest asked.
"Yes."
The rchant nodded proudly.
"We spent the last week producing it."
Hollen picked up a sheet.
Then another.
Then another.
Actually, even he could tell the difference.
"This is significantly better than what you were selling at the market."
The rchant smiled.
"The market paper is our cheapest grade."
That made sense.
Most buyers wanted price.
Not quality.
But businesses were different.
Businesses generated records.
Records needed to remain legible.
Ernest dipped a quill into ink.
Then began writing across the sheet.
The ink absorbed cleanly.
No excessive bleeding.
No major feathering.
The surface remained intact.
Much better than he expected.
"How much can you produce?"
The rchant imdiately opened his ledger.
"Currently three thousand sheets per week."
"Maximum?"
The man hesitated.
"With additional workers?"
"Yes."
"Perhaps six thousand."
Ernest leaned back.
Actually, that wasn’t enough long term.
But it was enough for now.
The Helmarte Soap Works wasn’t the Kingdom’s bureaucracy.
It wasn’t consuming mountains of paperwork yet.
Then Ernest asked the question that truly mattered.
"Can you keep the quality consistent?"
The rchant blinked.
"Consistent?"
"Yes."
Ernest held up the sheet.
"I don’t want one shipnt looking like this and the next shipnt looking worse."
Understanding imdiately appeared on the rchant’s face.
Actually, very few custors asked that question.
Most only cared whether paper existed.
Ernest cared about standards.
A very different thing.
The rchant nodded seriously.
"If we agree on a grade, then every shipnt will et that grade."
"Can you guarantee it?"
"Yes."
The answer ca imdiately.
No hesitation.
That got Ernest’s attention.
The rchant continued.
"I’ll personally inspect every batch before delivery."
Now they were talking business.
Ernest looked toward Hollen.
"What do you think?"
The forge owner examined another sheet.
Then shrugged.
"I think it’s paper."
Hollen placed the sheet down.
"But it’s clearly better than the first sample."
That was enough.
Ernest opened a blank contract.
"Then let’s make this official."
The rchant nearly sat straighter in his chair.
Ernest quickly outlined the terms.
Guaranteed monthly purchases.
Priority delivery to Helmarte Soap Works.
Consistent quality requirents.
Price stability.
Advance notice if production issues occurred.
The rchant reviewed every line carefully.
Then nodded.
"I agree."
Several minutes later, the signatures were added.
The man stared at the completed docunt for several seconds.
Actually, his hands trembled slightly.
This contract would likely double the size of his workshop.
Maybe more.
Ernest extended his hand.
"Congratulations."
The rchant shook it firmly.
"Thank you, Master Ernest."
As the man carefully rolled up his copy of the agreent, Ernest couldn’t help but notice a pattern.
First olive oil.
Now paper.
One by one, Helmarte Soap Works was securing every supply chain it depended upon.
And the stronger those supply chains beca, the harder it would be for competitors to catch up.
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