wavenovel Chapter 120 "Seasonal Limited Editions" and "Special New Products"
Chapter 120 "Seasonal Limited Editions" and "Special New Products"
October 13, 1988, 11:45 a.m.
Entrance to Kabukicho Ichiban-gai, Shinjuku, Tokyo.
Ten days have passed since that life-changing signing.
Although it was already autumn, the midday sun was still scorching, shining through the gaps between the rows of GG signs and baking the asphalt road until it glistened.
This is the most densely populated area in all of Japan, and also a battleground for convenience stores.
Kenichi Tanaka stood behind the counter at the FamilyMart Shinjuku 3-chome store, his gaze sweeping over the wall clock.
The second hand ticked away, each tick feeling like a blow to his eardrums.
Fifteen minutes left.
The nearby office buildings will be like a beehive that has been disturbed, with tens of thousands of hungry office workers flooding the streets. They only have forty-five minutes to have lunch, and in this age where time is money, they can wave their thousand-dollar bills like bayonets charging on the battlefield.
At this time of day, Tanaka would usually be yelling into the phone at the distribution center, urging the lunch truck that was late because of traffic, or worrying in the kitchen about the pile of rice balls that were not sold last night and were about to be thrown away.
But today, the store was eerily quiet.
Just ten minutes ago, a refrigerated truck with the words "SA Logistics" printed on it stopped at the back door.
Unload, shelv, and leave. Not a single word wasted; the efficiency was outrageous.
"Manager..."
Yangzi, a part-time college student who was sorting goods, was holding a stack of freshly put rice balls on the shelves, her voice filled with a mixture of confusion and excitement.
"Has our company been acquired by another company? This kind of situation..."
Tanaka poked his head out, his gaze landing on the fresh food shelf.
The place was filled with an unprecedented sense of oppression.
Instead of the neat but stale, refrigerated shelves, there are now colorful and dazzling "food walls".
In the most prominent position, a huge banner poster hangs, printed with an alluring image of red leaves and striking bold text:
【Autumn Flavors - Direct from Hokkaido - Autumn Limited Edition】
In this era of chain convenience stores that pursue "standardization" and "uniformity," all stores are eager to sell the exact same products to reduce costs. This unconventional approach, which emphasizes "seasonality" and "scarcity of origin," is an innovation that is practically a game-changer for the current retail industry.
The first shelf is filled with neatly arranged "hand-rolled rice balls." They use the latest individual packaging technology, and the rice is freshly harvested Hokkaido rice from this year.
【Hokkaido Autumn Salmon】, 【raw squid (roe)】, 【Hidaka Kombu】.
Each label had a large "100 yen" printed on it.
Back when 7-Eleven was selling items for 120 to 140 yen, the satisfaction that could be bought with just one coin was a kind of cheat.
Shift your gaze downwards.
Bento box section.
【S-Food Special Hokkaido Baron Potato Stew Bento】—380 yen. 【Thick-Cut Three-Piece Pork Cutlet Rice】—400 yen.
Next to the cashier, steam was rising from the oden pot. In the past, the soup base here was mostly made from industrial concentrate, which, although the taste was consistent, always had a lingering MSG smell.
But now, the pot was bubbling with a rich, amber-colored broth. The new supplier must have gone mad; they really used high-quality Hokkaido kelp and thick-cut bonito flakes, simmering them for hours to create a natural broth. The overpowering aroma had transformed a large area of the cashier counter into the absolute domain of oden; even customers who weren't particularly hungry would probably become hungry just from smelling it.
【S-Food Special Oden - All items are 70 yen each】.
Tanaka rubbed his eyes.
He picked up a pumpkin pudding labeled "Autumn Limited Edition." Its heavy weight and the condensed water droplets clinging to the sides of the cup indicated it had recently left the cold chain system.
"This is... the reforms from above?"
Tanaka was somewhat confused.
Do these things cost nothing? Selling them at this price? Or is the higher-ups planning a price war?
"Ding-dong—"
The automatic door slid open.
There was no time for Tanaka to think.
It's twelve o'clock.
The first wave of office workers in gray suits rushed in. They had only intended to buy some bread to grab a bite and complain about soaring prices.
But when their eyes swept across the fresh food shelf, especially when they saw the eye-catching "Hokkaido Autumn Limited Edition" and "100 Yen" labels, they couldn't help but slow down.
A middle-aged man wearing thick-rimmed glasses hesitated and stopped, reaching out to pick up a "salmon rice ball". He first weighed it in his hand with some surprise, seemingly not expecting that something worth 100 yen would be so heavy. Then he looked closely at the oily sheen of the rice under the transparent packaging, confirming that it was not one of those "showy" products with only a thin layer of meat on the surface.
"This price... it's not expensive anyway, let's give it a try."
He muttered something to himself, casually tossed the rice ball into the basket, thought for a moment, and then reached for a tendon.
"Hey! Inoue! Forget Matsuya! Come look at this!"
The shout was like a pebble thrown into a lake.
"Directly from Hokkaido? Really? That looks pretty good..."
"Autumn-limited salmon rice balls for only 100 yen? Let me have two to try."
"Hmm? The oden tastes different today?" An office worker sniffed, looking at the pot next to the cashier with some surprise. "It smells almost as strong as the ones in those specialty stores. Sir, I'd like an order of radish and beef tendon to try."
Customers, eager to try something new and find a bargain, began to gather. The once spacious aisle gradually became crowded, and tentative hands reached out in front of the shelves.
Outside the store, passersby saw the bustling scene inside through the glass windows and, driven by herd mentality, kept pushing open the door to enter. The automatic door initially made a series of "ding-dong" sounds, but eventually, because the sensors were blocked by the continuous influx of people, it simply remained open.
In just a few minutes, the once deserted convenience store became as crowded as a tram during rush hour, making it difficult to even turn around. Customers who were initially observing saw the goods on the shelves dwindling at a visible rate and immediately joined the buying spree.
The crowd gradually engulfed the shelves.
The sense of scarcity brought by "limited editions" and the desire to try them out brought by "low prices" are rapidly eroding the psychological defenses of these wage earners.
The beeping sounds from the cash registers were so continuous that they even drowned out the background music in the store.
"drop--"
"drop--"
"drop--"
Tanaka stood behind the cashier, mechanically repeating the actions of scanning codes, collecting money, and giving change. His brain was already somewhat numb, but the pleasure of counting money was spreading throughout his body from his fingertips.
Suddenly, he realized a problem.
With such a frenzied buying spree, the "limited edition" rice balls on the shelves are almost gone. According to the usual procedure, he would have to call the distribution center immediately to restock, but even then, the delivery truck wouldn't arrive until 4 p.m.
That means that during the latter half of the lunch rush, he can only stand there staring blankly at the empty shelves, watching helplessly as customers who were drawn in by the aroma leave disappointed.
"Manager! There are only two rows of autumn salmon rice balls left!" Yoko shouted from behind.
Tanaka was about to grab the phone.
"Sizzle—"
The newly installed, somewhat bulky black terminal next to the cash register suddenly spat out a thermal paper.
Tanaka paused for a moment, then picked up the note.
【实时数据监测：新宿3丁目店，饭糰库存预警。】 【指令已确认：S-03号机动配送车已发车。】 【补货内容：秋鲑饭糰x50，筋子饭糰x30，特製三明治x20。】 【预计到达时间：12:15。】
Fifteen minutes?
Tanaka looked out the window in disbelief.
A small SA logistics motorcycle skillfully navigated through the congested traffic and came to a steady stop in front of the store.
The deliveryman jumped off the vehicle, without even taking off his helmet, and carried two crates directly onto the counter before turning and leaving.
The shelves were filled as soon as they were empty.
This seamless smoothness gave Tanaka a kind of illusion.
It was as if an unseen pair of eyes were hovering above the ceiling, coldly watching every corner of the shop. Every time a rice ball was sold, that ghost would summon new supplies from a miniature warehouse in the city several kilometers away in milliseconds.
He didn't need to make a phone call. He didn't need to anticipate. He didn't even need to think.
He only needs to do one thing: turn customer traffic into a continuous flow of cash.
……
Bunkyo Ward, Seika Academy High School (private).
The lunch break bell had just rung, and the campus was filled with the aroma of bento boxes and the soft laughter of students.
Deep within the terrace of the "White Rose Pavilion," a wisteria trellis casts dappled shade.
Satsuki sat alone at a white round table, in front of her an exquisite three-tiered lacquerware food box. Inside the box was a kaiseki meal meticulously prepared by the family chef, its colors arranged like a work of art.
She gently picked up a piece of tamagoyaki and put it in her mouth. Gazing at the distant scenery, she chewed slowly.
From the shade of the trees behind me, I could hear the soft sound of leather shoes stepping on the gravel path.
Fujita, dressed in a dark driver's uniform and carrying a brown paper document bag, silently appeared at the edge of the terrace. He didn't get too close, maintaining a distance that allowed him to hear instructions clearly without disturbing the young lady's meal.
"Young Miss".
Fujita kept his voice low so as not to disturb the other students in the distance.
"The data from Shinjuku has arrived. Mr. Shimomura asked me to pass it on to you."
Satsuki didn't turn around, but simply turned her head slightly to the side.
Fujita stepped forward, gently placed the file bag on the corner of the table, and then quickly retreated into the shadows.
Gaoyue put down her chopsticks, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and pulled out a report from the file folder.
It was a newly printed thermal paper, densely covered with the midday sales data of twenty pilot stores in Shinjuku Ward.
Her gaze swept past the complex numbers and landed directly on the bottom line of red text.
Fresh food waste rate: 0.6%
[Single-store lunchtime sales increased by 240% compared to the previous period]
Satsuki's lips curved into a very faint smile.
0.6%.
She read the number softly.
"It seems that guy Shimomura has crammed all those algorithms into the POS machine."
In the cutthroat world of retail, this 0.6% represents an almost brutally efficient harvesting rate. Countless rice balls that should have gone moldy, spoiled, and ended up in the trash due to miscalculations are instead transformed into real money through unseen data.
Other suppliers are not as cheap as me, their raw material quality is not as high, their delivery speed is not as fast, their product gimmicks are not as good, their prices are not as affordable, and even their loss rate is not as low. How can other suppliers compete with me?
She folded the report and casually placed it under the food box.
"What about the other side?"
"7-Eleven's store manager, Sato, stood at the door for forty minutes," Fujita replied calmly. "From what I observed, he smoked three cigarettes and wiped his sweat five times during that time."
He was afraid.
Satsuki picked up her chopsticks again.
"When customers get used to eating rice balls directly from Hokkaido for 100 yen, and get used to the steaming hot oden made with high-quality ingredients and broth, they can no longer tolerate the coldness of the industrial assembly line taste."
"It's difficult to go from extravagance to frugality."
She picked up a pickled plum; its bright red color stood out starkly against the white rice.
"Contact the headquarters in Chiyoda Ward."
Satsuki looked at the plum with a calm expression.
"Since you've vandalized someone's store, you should at least say hello to the owner. I think the current Chairman Toshifumi Suzuki would be very interested in hearing a high school student's 'convenience store philosophy' after school."
……
Shinjuku, Kabukicho Ichiban Street.
The afternoon sun grew increasingly scorching, and distorted waves of heat rose from the asphalt road.
Store manager Sato stood behind the glass window of 7-Eleven, the rag in his hand already completely dry.
Across the four-lane road, the long line in front of the FamilyMart still hadn't thinned out.
The automatic doors over there opened and closed tirelessly, and the people coming and going carried bags full of plastic bags, their faces beaming with satisfaction at having bought cheap and good products.
In fact, many people would rather go to FamilyMart on another street to buy those so-called "limited new products" than come to the 711-Eleven that is right next door because the store is too crowded. After all, Japanese people follow the crowd. Now that the new product is so popular, what if you are the only one in the office who did not buy the new product when you get back? How will you get to the conversation?
Sato turned around and looked at the deserted shelves behind him.
The bento boxes, priced at 500 yen each, were neatly arranged, and because they hadn't been used for a long time, a fine layer of water droplets had condensed on the plastic lids.
"Ding-dong—"
The FamilyMart across the street started playing its welcoming electronic voice again.
The sound cut through the noisy traffic and clearly reached Sato's ears.
He subconsciously raised his hand and wiped the sweat rolling down his forehead.
The sound of cicadas seemed particularly noisy at this moment.