The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel - Chapter 115: Management (2)
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- The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel
- Chapter 115: Management (2)
The immediate problems we faced in revitalizing the bookstore were twofold:
Attracting customers and managing inventory.
While increasing customer traffic and sales by modernizing the bookstore and stocking commercially popular books was achievable, it alone was not sufficient.
Additionally, managing the malignant inventory was an issue.
The bookstore inherited by Tang Hwarin was one that Tang Hwarin’s maternal grandfather had maintained at a status quo for 50 years. As a result, a book inventory that had accumulated over 50 years was overflowing.
The bookstore had become a massive book warehouse after 50 years of operation.
The first floor was filled with commercially viable books, and efforts were made to organize and sell off the malignant inventory. However, it was impossible to dispose of all the inventory.
The remaining stock ultimately had to be moved to the second floor.
Tang Hwarin suggested using the second floor as a warehouse, but I had a better idea.
A way to organize inventory while attracting more customers.
“What in the world…”
Upon reaching the second floor, a person resembling a scholar was looking around in surprise. Understandably so. This structure would be a first in this world.
“It’s odd to find this upon coming up to the second floor of a bookstore. Isn’t this a bookstore? But there are clearly books here.”
I looked around, following the gaze of the bewildered scholar.
Like an ordinary bookstore, bookshelves filled the walls, with numerous books placed on shelves inside. However, the atmosphere changed when looking towards the window.
Desks were arranged in a row on a long table, with plush chairs in the corner. Turning towards the entrance, a long counter was in sight, with tools for brewing various teas placed against the counter wall.
Books and tea.
Anyone modern would immediately recognize what this place was.
“This is a ‘Daseogak’ (Tea Book Pavilion).”
A book café. The identity of the renovated second floor of my bookstore.
“Wow! I saw you at the entrance. Are you a clerk?”
The scholar, startled by the voice from behind, flinched and turned to look at me.
“I am the manager of this bookstore.”
I was different from an inn manager! It was different! I introduced myself to the scholar with a relaxed expression.
-You seem to know a lot about bookstore management, Yun-ho. You be the manager. I’ll be the bookstore owner.
Was this the leisure of a building owner? Tang Hwarin declared a separation of management and ownership in front of me, enough to make conglomerates cry.
It felt like we were both holding chairman and president titles in a start-up of just us two, but still, going from a homeless barbarian Mr. Kang to a manager was a significant status upgrade.
Now, when there’s a difficult customer, and they demanded to see the manager, I could step forward. What would you do then? I could make a scene.
“You are the manager. I am Sohn Seosaeng, studying nearby. But, a ‘Daseogak’? What is that?”
“It’s a place popular in Joseon, a tea house that is also a bookstore.”
“A tea house and a bookstore? That’s even more puzzling.”
“By paying an entrance fee, you can read any book you want in this Daseogak all day long.”
I pointed to the sign near the entrance with the entrance fee and precautions written on it.
“No way! You mean to say, for the price of just one meal, I can read any of these books? Really, all these books? Are you planning some sort of conspiracy?”
How did he know? Indeed, he guessed my plan to make this the number one bookstore in Yichang. The scholar, astounded by the vast array of books, spoke in disbelief.
It’s understandably unbelievable. In this world, books were neither a luxury nor a common mass-produced item.
In this world, the literacy rate was so low that when you went to an inn, a Jeom So-i would hand you the menu and tell you to order food yourself.
Hence, while there’s a broad audience eager to read and enjoy books, the challenge lay in the supply.
Although printing presses existed, they were scarce, and the high cost of materials like paper and ink made production expensive. Thanks to printing technology, books weren’t exorbitantly priced, but they were not exactly affordable either.
In this world, reading was a hobby that’s too costly to indulge in casually, unless it was for educational purposes.
I was introducing a book café to this world, offering what seemed to be a very affordable option.
“Yes. By paying the entrance fee, you can use this Daseogak. Plus, to celebrate our opening, we will be offering free access for a week, so feel free to read any book you like during that time.”
Hearing my explanation, the scholar began weaving through the bookshelves.
“This book, wasn’t it written by a great scholar during his retirement 30 years ago? This one! A poetry collection that was briefly popular 20 years ago. Heh. To think there are so many books I’ve wanted to read. Am I dreaming right now……?”
As expected. I quietly smiled, observing the scholar’s reaction.
The books stocked in the book café were akin to “chicken ribs” – items in inventory that were somewhat interesting or worth reading but not worth the money to purchase. Such books would perennially remain as inventory from the perspective of a bookstore.
However, the narrative changed when these unsellable items became available for reading in a book café. Chicken ribs transformed into delicious Chuncheon-style spicy grilled chicken, all at an affordable price.
‘Malignant inventory that’s hard to sell suddenly becomes a means to attract customers to the bookstore.’
Visitors came to the bookstore to read books at the Daseogak. Simply put, more people were likely to visit the bookstore than those coming specifically to buy books.
They all became potential customers of the bookstore, even if they didn’t purchase anything.
The inventory that was neither sold nor disposed of started generating revenue through the entrance fee to the Daseogak. Without selling a single book, a new source of income was established.
“Was I informed correctly on the first floor that this place allows you to read books freely?”
“Yes, that’s correct. Welcome to the Daseogak.”
“Wow. So many books. Ah! I’ve wanted to read this.”
“To be able to freely read such great books!”
Following the scholar, customers began flocking to the book café one by one.
‘It’s time to move on.’
The entrance fee was waived for the first week, but I planned to generate revenue through other means.
As people settled in with their books, I made my way to the counter.
“Excuse me, manager. My throat is a bit dry. Could I have some water?”
The man who deliberately rubbed his throat to show his thirst was the first visitor, Son Seosaeng.
“Haha. We don’t have water, but we do sell tea.”
I stood at the counter and directed his attention to the prominently displayed price list.
“Then, I’ll have to order tea… Ah, what is this?”
“Which one are you referring to?”
“What do you mean an Americano costs 40 copper! Isn’t that more expensive than a bowl of hangover soup!”
The scholar looked like a student who had casually offered to pay for dessert after a meal, only to be shocked by the prices at a franchise coffee shop.
“This place is a bookstore, but also a tearoom, which is why. However, unlike a tearoom, you’re not obliged to order tea, so if you feel pressured, you don’t have to.”
“Then, if I step outside for a bit…”
“Once you leave the Daseogak, you won’t be able to re-enter for the day.”
“Ugh… How can that be?”
The scholar looked at me with dissatisfaction, as if I were exploiting the situation for profit. The books might not have cost anything, but the interior design was all funded with my own money.
Even the coffee brewing equipment was picked up for a bargain from a junk dealer because I didn’t have the money to buy them. “It’s a grand opening gift,” said the general manager, handing it over with trembling hands, feeling so regretful.
“Excuse me, if you’re not buying, could you move aside? Mister, a warm Americano, please.”
“The first customer of the Daseogak is such a beauty. It’s an honor. I’ll prepare one right away.”
“Hehe. Please infuse it with your care, mister.”
“Why am I the ‘mister’ when we don’t look that different in age, yet you’re ‘mister’ to the manager…”
Ignoring the grumbling scholar, I started to make the first Americano.
Being in this world and making an Americano feels nostalgic. Back in the day, I would have just shouted ‘Grind!’
Well, in a world where Rosé Tteokbokki, the apostle of Tteokbokki, existed, Americano was definitely a traditional coffee. Hmm.
“…Now that I see, the entrance fee is cheap, but they make their money on drinks. Is this the way of Joseon? It’s a ruthless but understandable business tactic. Fine. I’ll also have an Americano.”
As I prepared the Americano for the female customer, thinking Italian martial artists would be outraged, Son Seosaeng grudgingly accepted and ordered an Americano with a resigned expression.
“Would you like it warm or cold?”
“Ha! Even if I freeze to death, it has to be an iced Americano.”
“Ice is an additional 5 copper.”
“Ugh! Is there no scholar discount?”
Nope. None.
I didn’t create the book café solely for utilizing inventory and selling beverages.
The advantages of a book café.
There were far more than expected.
“Excuse me, this book. Is it possible to purchase it, not just read it here? I picked it up without thinking much, but it turns out to be more useful than I expected. I’d like to buy a copy.”
A customer got up from his seat and came to me with a book in hand. I had hoped for such a customer from the first day, and here one was.
“Of course. Books displayed in the Daseogak are sold at a 30% discount off the retail price.”
“You’re selling this book at a 30% discounted price? Is that true?”
The customer looked incredulously between the book and me.
You could trust me. These were stocks that had been occupying space for decades, so selling them was profitable.
This was what I aimed for.
Even if it’s a book considered bad inventory, frequently handled by many, it would eventually catch someone’s eye. Then, it could be sold immediately to clear inventory.
The empty space would be filled with sought-after second-hand books. This accelerated book sales even more.
In this way, the first floor transformed into a modern bookstore, while the second floor became both a book café and a second-hand bookstore.
I pointed to a sign that stated books on one side are sold at a 30% discount, dispelling the man’s doubts.
“Certainly. Shall I process your purchase?”
“I’ll buy it right away. Just don’t ask for a return after selling it.”
Of course. It’s decades-old stock; don’t come back for a refund.
“Here they offer a 30% discount, should we also buy and take some home?”
“Let’s do that. I’ll buy one, and you buy one, and we can share. Please process our purchases too.”
“A 30% discount! It’s going to be fun exploring the storeroom! I should find something good.”
“Dad, buy this for me.”
Hearing that the books were being sold at a 30% discount, customers started purchasing the bad inventory without hesitation.
If sales continued like this every day, dealing with bad inventory would be quick.
‘There’s another reason for creating a book café on the second floor.’
I smiled smugly to myself as I watched people purchasing books and heading down to the first floor.
“There’s a new book on the second floor! After 20 years!”
“I don’t have the money… Shall we split the cost?”
“Let’s do that!”
The path from the Daseogak to the first-floor exit was intentionally designed to be the longest possible. This way, customers visiting the Daseogak naturally had to browse the books on the first floor, whether they were going up or down.
Create a book café with the book inventory. If a customer liked the inventory, they could purchase it cheaply. If not, they still ended up spending money on beverages.
Moreover, as the Daseogak gained popularity, the number of customers on the first floor naturally increased
It became a book café with a positive feedback loop.
“We will be closing soon.”
I was enveloped in a sense of satisfaction as I looked around the bookstore, which had been doing well from the first day.
I wished the martial arts novel I was writing could be this popular. I had only managed to lay out the basic plot due to preparing for the bookstore’s opening and hadn’t properly started writing.
“Manager. Sell this book to me.”
“‘The Rebellion of the Mak Clan’. You’ve chosen a good book.”
I didn’t know the content, but feeling light-hearted with the joy of closing time, I struck up a conversation with Son Seosaeng.
“Oh? Have you read this book?”
“I know the gist of it.”
Actually, I didn’t. Don’t ask about the content.
“If you only know the gist, it might be different. ‘The Rebellion of the Mak Clan’ deals with a peasant uprising 50 years ago. It’s still published today, but this edition from 30 years ago is special.”
“How is it special?”
“Well, with a peasant uprising, there’s naturally looting, robbery, and, um, those kinds of things. This edition details those events quite specifically. To find it here…”
“It seems to contain a detailed account of true events.”
“It’s not true.”
“Isn’t the story of the peasant uprising based on true events?”
“The uprising and characters did exist, but the story written here is entirely fabricated. And in this edition from 30 years ago, it includes… how the Mak clan, after seizing the fortress, with the official’s wives. Hehe…”
Was it bought not for being a rare historical book or novel, but because it’s an erotic story?
“Could it be that a novel from 30 years ago is this lewd… No, no. Ahem. As scholars, we must be well-versed in classics, so please, process the payment.”
Son Seosaeng, with a sly look, paid for the book, then concealed it in his clothes so that no one would notice, and left the Daseogak.
He seemed to be a student preparing for the civil service exams. Could he pass with that attitude? It seemed that faction novels were popular in this world too.
‘Wait? Faction?’
Hold on. This could be a great idea for my martial arts novel.
I closed the bookstore and hurriedly sat at the desk in the attic, dipping my brush in ink.
‘There was a way to grab the readers’ attention.’
Simply writing a martial arts novel wouldn’t instantly draw attention.
Should I resort to the novice writer’s last resort of provocative titles?
‘There’s something better than that.’
The novel I was writing was entirely fictional.
The characters were fictitious. The story was fictitious. But what if I used a real-existing family name?
A regular family name in martial arts novels.
‘Sichuan Tang Family.’
Set the protagonist as a member of the Sichuan Tang Family.
The protagonist was full of righteous heroism but somehow always ended up entangled in typical martial arts novel scenarios.
Just having the name of the Sichuan Tang Family could draw immense attention from readers.
I immediately thought of a title in my head.
As I weaved the first novel I wrote in this world, a name that could attract attention as the title.
My second novel and my first sticky martial arts novel.
Its name was.
“The Saga of the Tang Family.”