"My role is to oversee the production of sugar, and your task is to handle the sales. We'll distribute the profits on a 40-60 basis," Logan outlined the partnership terms.
"You take 60, I take 40!" Fisher countered instantly.
"Out of the question!" I quickly retorted upon hearing his suggestion.
My brother-in-law is quite the cunning fox. He knows his way around the market. With just one sales channel under his belt and several mouths to feed on his team, his 60% cut would barely leave him with 20% after all expenses. He's trying to have work only for Logan to reap the benefits he thought.
"Forty-sixty is already stretching it, Fisher. How about ninety-ten in my favor?" Logan proposed, reversing the numbers drastically.
"Logan, why are we even debating this with him? We could collaborate with soone else who'd be more reasonable. This is just brutal!" Jean protested vehently.
The room grew tense. Fisher rubbed his temples in frustration. It was evident that familial ties were making this negotiation tougher than usual.
Despite everything, Jean's staunch support was heartening; she was already siding with completely, even before our marriage.
In typical scenarios, Logan would've walked away by now to gain leverage, but negotiating with family complicated matters.
After a thoughtful pause, Logan suggested a new approach, "Here's an alternative, Fisher. If a profit split doesn't sit well with you, how about I supply you the brown sugar directly? You handle the resale, the pricing, the marketing, and the distribution. I stay out of it."
"That sounds promising," Fisher acknowledged with a nod.
"However, I'd need to know your selling price to . Also, will you be supplying to other vendors as well?" Fisher inquired, his business acun showing.
"The pricing will have to wait. I need to calculate the costs accurately," I replied, maintaining transparency.
"As for other vendors, that will depend on your ability to push the product. If you're unable to move the volu, I'll need to open up distribution to others," I explained.
"I see," Fisher murmured, pondering over the new information.
"I'll need so ti to think this through," he concluded after a pause.
"Take all the ti you need," I responded, hoping we'd find common ground soon.
After a prolonged business discussion with Jean's brother, dusk enveloped the sky, and the welcoming warmth of Jean's family persuaded Logan to join them for dinner. As night fell, he found himself staying at their hospitable ho.
Aware of Logan's poor tolerance for alcohol, the family wisely chose not to press him to drink, ensuring the evening remained pleasant for everyone.
As dawn broke the following day, the partnership with Fisher over maltose lingered in Logan's mind. He was optimistic that Fisher would opt for their newly proposed thod of collaboration, prompting him to gear up for a significant uptick in sugar production.
At the crack of dawn, under Logan's directive, nearly a hundred beastman, including Cadia and Tyton, sprang into action. The day before, Logan had made substantial preparations: purchasing a thousand kilograms of wheat, expanding the kitchen, and installing six new large clay stoves to accommodate the anticipated increase in production. He also crafted various tools necessary for the tasks ahead.
The bustling activity of hundreds enveloped the day, which swiftly passed by. However, one unusual occurrence caught everyone's attention: the chief's wife, a regular visitor, was conspicuously absent.
...
"It's been a full week!" Logan exclaid, inspecting the four tightly sealed ferntation barrels.
The rice had been fernting for seven days. Logan, with a mix of anticipation and excitent, gently opened the first barrel. A subtle aroma of ferntation wafted out, pleasing and promising.
"Ah, that sll!" He took a deep inhale, the successful ferntation evident in the air.
The aroma spread as he opened the remaining barrels, filling the kitchen with a light, fragrant scent of what was soon to be wine.
"This slls incredible!" Cadia and the others rushed into the kitchen, drawn by the scent, and approached Logan with wide-eyed surprise.
"Everyone, get ready!" Logan commanded, his voice echoing with enthusiasm. "Light up four stoves imdiately!"
"Yes, chief!" The beastn responded eagerly. As they inhaled the heady vapors, a sense of euphoria seed to lift their spirits, infusing them with an infectious energy that set the pace for the day's work.
The three beastman kindled the fires under Logan's watchful eye, who busied himself with arranging the distillation apparatus. Each of the four sets was carefully positioned and loaded with material.
Using only two pots might have sufficed for two hundred kilograms of rice, but Logan knew better. A too-dense stack could result in uneven distillation, risking so of the spirit remaining trapped in the mash.
Before long, everything was set for distillation.
Curious about the process, a crowd of beastman and quilboars had gathered around the kitchen. Logan welcod their interest; after all, these creatures would soon be his primary brewers, integral to scaling up production.
"Make way!" he heard from behind, as an excited murmur rippled through the crowd.
It was Jean, weaving through the gathering with eager eyes. "Is this how you make wine?" she asked, reaching Logan's side.
"Yes, today's the day for brewing," Logan confird, recalling he had ntioned it to her earlier. He seized the mont to add, "I noticed you weren't around yesterday. What kept you?"
Her reply ca with a playful tilt of her head, "What, did you miss ?" she teased, gently grasping his arm.
Logan rely smiled, his attention briefly captured by a stream of clear, white liquid beginning to drip steadily from the stear's pipe. "It slls wonderful, doesn't it?" he remarked.
"Is that the wine?" Jean inquired, her interest piqued as she observed the process.
"Yes, that's it!" Logan confird as the flow from the pipe grew stronger and more consistent, soon mirrored by the other three stears. Within monts, the rich aroma of wine perated the kitchen.
As the heady scent filled the air, everyone present couldn't help but take deep, appreciative breaths, marveling at the transformative magic of distillation. Logan watched, a sense of pride swelling within him as his future brewers absorbed every detail of the craft.
"This wine is incredibly clear and fragrant!" Jean exclaid, peering curiously into the barrel where a layer of liquid sat, seemingly re water at first glance, yet the rich aroma unmistakably betrayed its true nature.
Logan, choosing not to delve into the technicalities of how fernted wine typically appears turbid while distilled wine is akin to vapor, purity in essence, simply nodded.
"May I try so?" Jean's eagerness was palpable, sparking a similar longing among the onlookers like Cadia and Tyton, who audibly swallowed their anticipation.
"Not just yet," Logan cautioned, his voice firm but patient. "This is 'Sake,' and it's exceptionally potent. Even seasoned drinkers can find themselves overwheld by a re sip."
"Really?" Jean challenged, skepticism lacing her tone. "I've handled five pounds of wine before and barely felt a buzz!"
Logan couldn't help but shake his head with a mild chuckle. The wine she referred to was less than 20% alcohol, comparable to beer. But this Sake? It could reach an astonishing 70 to 80% alcohol content.
"Just the sll can make one dizzy," he explained further. "Distilled spirits are segnted into three parts: the head, the heart, and the tails. Each segnt has a different potency, and the art lies in blending them to achieve a balanced spirit."
Intrigued, Jean leaned in, her interest clearly piqued. "Could I possibly try it?"
Knowing he could hardly deny her, Logan smiled and said, "Seeing is believing, after all."
With a nod of anticipation from Jean, who boasted a far superior tolerance than himself, Logan carefully poured a asure into a wooden bowl and handed it to her. "Enjoy, but be cautious," he advised.
"It slls divine," Jean murmured, bringing the bowl to her lips and taking a generous swig before Logan could offer any further warning.
Just as the liquid hit her palate, Logan started to intervene, foreseeing the potential impact. But it was too late, a thud resounded as Jean's knees buckled slightly from the unexpected potency.
Logan sighed, half in amusent, half in exasperation. Jean was indeed a woman who charged forward, consequences be damned!
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