With the plan complete, Otto's little nest egg—saved over many years—began flowing out like water, and staff training ramped up in full swing.
He would first hire a hundred people. Besides being smooth talkers, they at least had to be literate and know basic arithmetic. Otto handed this part to one of his attendants and merely offered guidance from the side.
It was easy to foresee that in this era most department-store customers would be nobles and wealthy merchants, with at most a small slice of the middle class. To ensure service quality, these sales attendants had to undergo basic aristocratic-etiquette training so they could elevate the store's overall tone.
As for locations, he would buy up the most suitable properties within Bavarian cities to keep them firmly in his own hands. Given limited funds, sites in cities with lower perceived potential would have to be rented for now.
Once the properties were secured, they needed only a light refurbishment, copying the period's most fashionable decorating style. Overall, the requirements were modest; there was no need to start with four or five floors like modern department stores—there simply weren't that many product categories available yet. Most of the brands that would later flood the world didn't even exist.
This, in turn, revealed another money-making path: luxury apparel had promising prospects—one might even call it a gold mine. Still, the priority was to get the department store up and running; once cash started cycling back and there was surplus capital, he could revisit it.
Selecting merchandise, lining up suppliers, and handling formalities were all fairly easy. He was a prince, after all; his face alone smoothed most things over—often a single sentence settled it.
After this flurry of activity—finding partners, training staff, securing sites, refurbishing, and stocking—five more months passed, and Otto's department stores were finally ready to open in several major Bavarian cities.
On June 18, a date he considered particularly auspicious, the stores opened their doors.
Thanks to advance word among the nobility, crowds poured in on opening day—so many that entry had to be limited.
People are herd animals: when they saw numerous "people of standing" walk out laden with packages, the middling classes with some savings couldn't help but follow suit.
The profits didn't disappoint. In Munich alone, the first day's takings converted to some £4,600 (since Europe's currencies were a mess and sources hard to standardize in this era, figures were often expressed in pounds for clarity), with a gross margin of 40 percent.
Currencies were still on the gold–silver standard, linked to bullion; many were minted directly in gold and silver and remained quite solid. Judging by that revenue, Otto's department stores were laying golden eggs.
Figures from the other cities would arrive next, and he expected more pleasant surprises.
It made sense: this was the first time a department store had appeared. The launch had been well advertised, and as the prince's own enterprise it drew plenty of Bavarian nobles to show support. Many of these customers didn't even look at price tags and, under the sales attendants' patter, wound up buying heaps of goods without quite realizing it.
This couldn't last forever. Business would normalize and turnover would shrink. But in this era a department store still had strong competitive power; he was confident it would do very well.
As for competitors, none had appeared yet—they were likely still watching and learning.
Exploiting his advantages, Otto rolled out across Bavaria's main towns from the start, and talks were already underway in neighboring countries and regions. Seize the initiative now, and you own a powerful first-mover edge later.
Buoyed by success at home, Otto grew bolder and accelerated the schedule; expansion into areas around Bavaria advanced rapidly.
He did not plan to keep all the profits from the department stores in neighboring countries and regions for himself; instead he would co-invest with local kingpins, taking larger or smaller stakes depending on the location.
In small neighboring states such as the Grand Duchy of Baden and the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg, he could take 60–70 percent. In places like Austria, France, and the Russian Empire, 30–40 percent would suffice. Most of these ventures were in partnership with local royal houses, who were eager to strengthen ties with Bavaria's royalty.
In regions where Bavaria's influence was weaker, he would bring in two or three partners to avoid being shut out by local powers and to balance interests while still keeping control.
This required heavy recruiting and training—especially for key management and finance roles, which had to be filled by his own people to safeguard his rightful share. It was a huge challenge and left Otto run off his feet. Beyond training new hires, he had to resolve managerial problems as they arose. The model was new to the era, and many issues had no obvious playbook. Otto had to devise solutions and circulate them widely, drafting regulations to help staff learn the ropes.
Rapid expansion also strained capital. He plowed all store profits back in and even found a way to squeeze another "sponsorship" out of his father.
"Money really is pouring out like water. Slowing expansion would fix it, but grabbing market share fast matters most. To keep the pace up, I need to boost revenue," he mused. After scanning the latest financials and dismissing the accountant, Otto sat thinking for a moment, then picked up the desk bell and rang it.
His personal attendant, waiting at the door, entered and bowed. "Your Highness, what are your orders?"
"Go into the market and place an order for a batch of items, then have them delivered to my estate," Otto said.
"At once," the attendant replied. "Please specify."
"Fifty kilograms of glycerin, one kilogram of rose essential oil, five hundred seven-ounce glass bottles, and the same number of finely made small wooden boxes—just big enough to hold those bottles… Everything must be top quality; price is not a major concern."
When the attendant had finished noting it down, he bowed again. "Your Highness, I'll see to it immediately."
Watching him leave, Otto fell back into thought. He hoped this idea would work and help drive the department stores' growth.
In truth, the fastest way to raise funds would be the stock market or bank loans. By now, stock exchanges were nothing new in Europe—many countries had them, and Frankfurt, Paris, and London had been operating for decades.
But share issuance and dividends aside, taking that route would inevitably dilute his control. Worse, any major shareholder would have the right to inspect the books. Otto had many future moves in mind for the stores and needed to route some funds quietly; he could not risk leaks. So he ruled it out immediately.
That left bank loans. With his status, borrowing wouldn't be hard. But the loans of the day were a minefield—annual rates of ten, even in the teens, the sort of usurious terms that would be called loan-sharking in a later age. The thought alone gave Otto the itch to start a bank.
He wasn't a pure merchant by temperament, and his instinct to guard his own interests made him cautious about borrowing. Given the era's many constraints, he would avoid loans if any other option existed.
"So here's hoping this round solves the funding issue; otherwise I'll have to find a way to borrow," Otto murmured. "And when the chance comes, I must establish a bank of my own—make money with other people's deposits."