Gacha (3) ****
"Hey, hey. Wait a minute. Is it really twenty-four?"
"I told you it is. I counted it three more times."
Yan triumphantly shook the thick bundle of labels in his hand.
"Are you sure this will really work? Isn't it a scam?"
"What do you mean, scam. Why would His Highness the Grand Duke run a scam?"
Yan patted Karl's back.
"Let's go, punk! If we're late, the line will only get longer!"
The two men left Karl's shabby house.
A chilly autumn wind gusted sharply against their cheeks.
Karl unconsciously pulled his collar tighter.
The road to the square was much more crowded than usual.
The voices of people coming from all around were mixed with a subtle excitement and anticipation.
"Hey, are you guys going to do that too?"
An old worker from the same factory, who was walking from the opposite direction, recognized the bundle of labels in their hands and acknowledged them.
"Yeah, well. We've got nothing to lose."
Karl answered bluntly.
"Hoho, you young punks. It's more important to live a sound life than to put your effort into such a stroke of luck."
The old worker spoke as if admonishing them, but the Mikhail bottle in his hand made his argument converge to an absolute zero of persuasiveness.
"Let's go, let's go."
Yan pulled Karl by the arm.
The square had already turned into a giant festival ground.
A large tent with the red logo of 'Mikhail' was set up in the center.
In front of it, people were lined up in a long, snake-like queue.
A couple holding a child's hand, young people chattering boisterously with friends, it didn't matter if they were men or women, young or old.
"Wow, shit. There are so many damn people."
A sigh escaped Karl's lips without him realizing it.
"What did I tell you? I said we should come early!"
Yan grumbled and stood at the very end of the line.
The wait was tedious.
But thanks to the noise from the surroundings, it wasn't entirely boring.
"Dad! That one! I want that one!"
A little boy grabbed his dad's pant leg and whined, pointing at the prizes displayed in front of the tent.
On the display stand, from crude wooden coasters to brilliant crystal glasses and a bottle with a dazzling blue label.
All sorts of miscellaneous goods were inciting people's desires.
"Aigoo, that damn kid. What's so great about a piece of wood like that."
The child's father grumbled, though a pleased smile lingered on his face.
From the front, a man's cheer erupted, as if it was finally his turn.
"Wow! It's 4th prize! 4th prize!"
Applause and sighs mixed with envy erupted from the surroundings.
The man took the free bottle of liquor and turned around as triumphantly as a victorious general returning from war.
"See? What did I tell you? I told you it would work."
Yan nudged Karl's side.
Instead of answering, Karl swallowed dryly.
'What if.'
Maybe, just maybe.
After a long wait, it was finally the two's turn.
Inside the tent, contrary to the commotion outside, was surprisingly calm.
A young employee with a bored expression sat beyond a table.
Next to him, a strangely shaped hexagonal wooden barrel was placed.
'Is that the thing.'
Karl stared at the object he was seeing for the first time in his life, as if it were a novelty.
"Labels, please."
The employee said in a mechanical voice.
Yan triumphantly held out the bundle of labels.
The employee took the labels and counted them with a practiced hand.
"Twenty-four. Is that correct?"
"Yes!"
"You can draw once per label, for a total of twenty-four times. Who will be spinning?"
"Me!"
"I'm going first."
Karl pushed Yan aside and stepped forward.
Yan grumbled, but Karl paid him no mind.
He grabbed the old handle attached to the wooden barrel.
The cold touch of metal.
'Please.'
Karl took a deep breath and turned the handle a few times.
Deureureureuk—
The wooden barrel began to rotate with a loud noise.
And…
Dalkak!
With a cheerful sound, a single marble rolled out of the small hole at the bottom of the barrel.
It was black.
"5th prize."
The employee said in an emotionless voice.
He picked up a wooden coaster from the display stand and tossed it onto the table.
"Oh! Hey, a win from the very first try!"
Yan made a fuss.
"Isn't this good luck?"
'Is it?'
Karl picked up the coaster with a bewildered expression.
The craftsmanship of the coaster, with Mikhail's logo branded onto the solid wood with a hot iron, was excellent.
It wasn't a bad start.
"Alright, next!"
But the luck, it ended there.
The second marble was white. A miss.
The third was also a miss.
The fourth, and the fifth as well.
Only white marbles continued to roll out.
"Ah, shit. What is this."
Karl's brow furrowed.
"It's okay, it's okay! It's always like this at first!"
Yan tried to cheer him on from the side, but a sense of anxiety began to creep into his voice as well.
Until the fourteenth attempt, the result did not change.
White marble, white marble, white marble.
"Hey, you get out of the way. I'll try."
Yan pushed Karl aside and grabbed the handle.
"Just watch, you unlucky bastard! I'll hit the jackpot!"
Deureureureuk, dalkak!
What rolled out was a red marble.
"!"
"4th prize."
In that instant, the two's eyes met.
"Wow."
"Wow, shit!"
The two men unconsciously grabbed each other's shoulders and shouted in celebration.
The employee placed a bottle of 'Mikhail Red Label' on the table.
It was the very same liquor they always drank.
But right now, this liquor wasn't just liquor.
It was, so to speak, a gift from the goddess of luck.
"What did I tell you! I told you I'd do it!"
Yan shouted triumphantly.
"Yeah, you take all the credit."
Karl grumbled, but he couldn't hide the smile on his lips.
Riding the momentum, Yan confidently turned the handle again.
Two misses.
And the eighteenth attempt.
Dalkak!
Once again, a red marble rolled out.
"Waaaaah!"
This time, an even bigger cheer erupted.
They had gotten another bottle of free liquor.
"This is crazy, crazy! It's a liquor party tonight!"
Yan was on the verge of dancing.
After that, except for one more black marble on the twenty-second try, all were misses.
But the two men were not the least bit disappointed.
"Wow, this is a real jackpot."
Karl held the two bottles of liquor and two coasters he had won as prizes in his arms with a satisfied expression on his face.
This was a great success.
"Let's go. I'm buying another round tonight."
Yan said, draping his arm over Karl's shoulder.
The two, drunk on their sense of victory, headed back to Karl's house.
The boisterous noise of the square faded into the distance behind them.
"Keuu, free liquor really is the most delicious."
Yan said with a very satisfied expression after emptying his glass.
Karl nodded his head in response.
He wasn't wrong.
Even though it was the same Red Label, for some reason it felt sweeter and smoother.
"Hey, but isn't the side dish a bit lacking?"
Yan smacked his lips, looking at the empty beef jerky plate.
"I'm feeling generous today! I'll go buy the side dish!"
He shot up from his seat.
"Forget it, punk. Your money is my money."
"No, no. I should be the one to pay for this. It's liquor won with the labels you collected."
Yan was adamant.
"Wait here. I'll be right back. Should I buy more beef jerky?"
"No."
Karl shook his head.
Spicy liquor with salty beef jerky or dried fish jerky.
It wasn't bad, but for some reason, he was craving something different today.
"I feel like eating something like a hot soup."
***
Mikhail lay diagonally on the sofa, flipping through the regular report sent by Laura.
The numbers listed on the paper were drawing an exponential curve that felt unreal.
Sales, net profit, market share.
They were soaring with the momentum of Tengen Toppa.
"This is it."
He couldn't control the corners of his mouth from rising.
As expected, the capitalism of 21st-century modern civilization was certainly effective.
No, should I say the sales tactics born under that system of capitalism were certainly effective.
'I haven't even started yet.'
He hadn't even introduced the truly malicious systems like cubes or complete gacha.
At most, he had only used a few classic methods like limited editions and prize-drawing events, and this was the result.
Although it was developed enough to run factories and have transcontinental trains for mass production, it was still an innocent world where the romance of knights and ladies was alive and breathing.
As expected, there was no way 21st-century sales tactics wouldn't work in a place like this.
"Good, very good."
Mikhail smiled with satisfaction and tossed the report aside.
What to do next.
Just thinking about it was so enjoyable that the corners of his mouth rose on their own.
'First, I need to push the artist bastards a bit.'
I'll give them bundles of cash and have them write a ton of comics and novels to my taste.
'And gather a bunch of chefs too.'
And savor the delicacies of the entire world.
It was one of the greatest pleasures in life even in 21st-century South Korea, so it couldn't be left out.
And occasionally stopping by the casino to gamble, or watching the human dramas of people walking a tightrope between hope and despair like Kaiji, would also be quite fun.
Possessing Mikhail was, truly, the greatest stroke of luck.
If he had been born as a nameless farmer or laborer in this world... it was horrifying just to think about.
He probably would have thrown himself into a river or the sea without hesitation.
That's how primitive and harsh this romance fantasy world was for ordinary people.
But he was a prince.
He had possessed a prince.
A good-for-nothing, a drunkard, a madman, but he was still a prince of the empire.
That's why this primitiveness was, on the contrary, comfortable and nice.
'I feel at ease.'
He never had to worry about money before, but now his mind was at ease as well.
A person's goodwill usually comes from that ease.
A good idea suddenly came to him.
Ting—
Mikhail lightly shook the bell on the table next to the sofa.
A moment later, a familiar footstep was heard from the hallway.
"You called, Your Highness."
It was Boris.
With his usual impeccable posture, he bowed his head.
"Boris."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"In the meantime, the bureaucrats, the Valeriano Merchant Guild employees. Even you... everyone has worked hard."
"You are too kind, Your Highness. It is all thanks to Your Highness's wise leadership."
Boris answered mechanically.
"So, about that."
Mikhail grinned.
"I should probably give out some bonuses."
"...Pardon?"
An expression he had never seen before appeared on Boris's face.
Pure chaos and bewilderment, as if he had heard an incomprehensible alien language.
"Bonuses. A bonus. Especially because you did a good job."
Mikhail kindly explained.
"No, a bonus!"
Boris's voice rose without him realizing it. His eyes widened in shock.
"As a subject of the empire, it is only proper to give our full loyalty to one so noble! How can you!"
"Why, you don't want to receive it?"
Mikhail asked playfully.
His eyes narrowed with amusement.
He quite liked that reaction from Boris.
"N-No! That is not what I mean! It is just that I am so overwhelmed and also, well...."
Boris waved his hands in a fluster.
The usual shrewd chief chamberlain was nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps because that sight was so amusing, or perhaps because he was truly in a good mood.
Mikhail found himself feeling quite proud.
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