kscans

Chapter 92 - Chapter 8: Part One - The Compounding Effect of Thought

"Hmph, so this is yokan. ...Hmm, yes, it isn't bad. I suppose I could eat this a few times a year."

Immediately after the tasting session, I was summoned by Euphelia. I couldn't refuse a request from an investor to explain the status of a new venture. Not that I could refuse even if she summoned me for no reason at all.

In the usual small reception room, Euphelia delivered what was, in a way, the most discouraging verdict after tasting the yokan I had brought.

"What can I do for you today, Your Grace?"

I asked, averting my gaze from the yokan.

"Well, Alfi told me you were uncharacteristically down, and I thought I had to see such a rare sight for myself."

"How considerate. That particular delicacy is perfect for a great noble such as yourself, with so much time on her hands."

I said it half desperately. I had no reason to feel indebted to Euphelia. The sale of the yellow sugar license to Plural would turn a profit, not a loss.

Though I did feel bad for Sherry, as I had thwarted her plan to increase the demand for beans.

"I am joking. In truth, it is related to this."

Euphelia pointed at the yokan with her fork. I looked away again.

"Is this about the tea party to welcome the Imperial Princess?" "Indeed."

Euphelia and I exchanged sour looks. Apparently, before the Imperial Princess formally enrolled in the academy, the princesses were to host a tea party to welcome her. Alfina, who would normally not be invited, could not decline as she was to be the princess's classmate.

The venue was apparently the mansion of a duke that the First Princess had married into, located near the Royal Capital. What's with the choice of what sounds like enemy territory?

"The two elder princesses will handle the basic preparations. The theme is that the Third Princess Doriustia and Alfina, who are closer in age, will each bring a confection. Which is why we need some sort of rare dish."

"Please direct your request to the Plural Company. A matter of such great importance is beyond my expertise."

I said. With their newly acquired yellow sugar, Plural should be able to create beautiful and delicious sweets. Unlike me.

"Hmph, are you saying you will not lend me your wisdom?"

"My knowledge aside, I have little wisdom to offer."

If we left it to Plural, they would surely produce something that wouldn't bring shame to Alfina. In fact, wouldn't they easily win regardless of what the other side presented?

If I got involved carelessly. I could end up ruining a royal tea party by serving black tea and yokan.

"There are two issues, so I wish to be as prepared as possible. The first is the matter of that timber. We are currently negotiating to have a portion of the timber imported from the Empire, specifically a fraction of the increased supply, redirected to Bertold. It seems that is the limit for our ‘neutral’ prime minister. In fact, the other side is quite keen on the idea. They have even suggested they could ship it directly to us, bypassing the Royal Capital. You said it would be better if its origins were as clear as possible, did you not? For us to appear unwelcoming to the Imperial Princess at this timing would be rather problematic."

"Weren't we planning to get the timber for the Bertold workshop expansion only after the experimental conditions were set?"

"The reputation of the improved carriages has grown too great. The workshop cannot possibly keep up at its current size. There are many other things that must be built, like inns and trading posts. And yet, Kurtheite complains. They accuse me of stealing craftsmen, the very ones they drove out to the Royal Capital, and only a handful at that."

I wanted both the timber and the intelligence from the Empire so badly I could taste it. Receiving it directly would make for a superior experimental sample. We needed to investigate where it was logged.

Still, it was strange that they were so eager to divert the timber to us. It couldn't just be about diversifying their business partners to spread risk, could it? Something doesn't add up.

"Secondly, reputation in these social circles is surprisingly important. We should assume the other side will try something. We need a weapon."

Sweets as a weapon, huh. Well, I guess that's just how this world is. Back on Earth, tea ceremonies in the Sengoku period apparently held great political significance.

"I understand the situation. ...I'll see if I can think of anything."

But I couldn't give what I didn't have. I said as much to end the conversation.

◇◇

"A new sweet, she says."

I muttered after returning to the Vinder Company. The numbers in the open ledger before me weren't registering. It was not a good sign.

"Um, Ricardo-kun. There's something I'd like to ask you."

Alfina, who had followed me from the Grand Duchess's residence, spoke to me. I felt awkward around her, too. She was holding the ballpoint pen I had given her in one hand, and a sheet of paper in the other.

I knew she held a greatly inflated image of me. I must have disappointed her quite a bit this time. After all, it was right after that lecture.

As I fretted internally. Alfina spread the paper out. Lined up were several sentences written in handwriting far more beautiful than my own.

"I tried to use the method you taught me to organize my thoughts about the tasting session."

Written there were the opinions of the members from the tasting session. There were some I hadn't heard myself. Had Alfina gone around asking everyone on her own?

"I wanted to try and think it through myself, but it's much more difficult than I expected. I at least understand now why you said a pen was so important."

Alfina gently stroked the ballpoint pen with her finger. Below the collected information were the hypotheses Alfina had tried to formulate. They had been written and erased, written and erased, over and over. Her earnestness, and her trust in what I had taught her, were etched upon that page.

And, having made the same mistake countless times myself, I could clearly see why Alfina was struggling.

"I'm an idiot. How could I have forgotten something so simple?"

I was appalled at myself.

"The truth is, the Sky-Rain-Umbrella process isn't a one-way street..."

"Not a one-way street?"

If following a set procedure could guarantee the right answer, it wouldn't be a "problem." In the first place, if an ordinary person could hit upon the right answer in one go, it wouldn't be a technique, it would be magic.

I took out the original Sky-Rain-Umbrella plan I'd written for the anko project. The fact that I had tucked this away in the back of my desk was where I'd gone wrong.

"When you're trying something new, the chances of failure are far, far higher than the chances of success, right?"

"Ah, yes. Isn't that why we use methods like this, to avoid failure?"

Alfina tilted her head.

"That's right. But even if this method could increase the odds of success from one in ten to two in ten, you would still fail far more often. That's why the true value of this method lies in what you do after you fail. This was a plan made with the goal of succeeding. But when it fails, it becomes a resource for analyzing the cause of that failure. Since we have the chance, let's use my failure as a cautionary tale."

I pulled out my own pen. I placed my paper and Alfina's side by side. The information Alfina had gathered was an evaluation of my plan. I would use it to create a feedback loop. Sky-Rain-Umbrella grows by being rotated.

Alfina watched intently as the tip of my pen moved up and down the paper. The answer to where I had gone wrong was found all too easily.

"It seems I was mistaken about the problem I was trying to solve."

My pen stopped at the very top of the page. Written there was, (How to popularize anko in the kingdom).

"Um, is something wrong with that?"

Alfina tilted her head. No, it wasn't wrong. I drew a double line through the sentence and wrote a new one beside it.

"You can laugh. This was the problem I was actually solving."

(Creating the anko sweets that I want to eat)

To be precise, it was recreating the Japanese anko I wanted to eat. Of course it failed.

I took out another sheet of paper and wrote a new title.

(Popularizing the new sweet known as anko in the kingdom)

Assume you will fail. That is the principle for organizing a confused mind and analyzing failure. By doing so, you can slightly increase the efficiency of your learning from that failure. It's not a magical method, but its effects steadily accumulate.

In my previous life, I called it the compounding effect of thought.

"Come to think of it, with the first prophecy... you said that if the monster flood prediction was wrong, you would just consider the next hypothesis," Alfina said with a nod.

I suppose my head was still on straight back then. Not a dark chapter from my past, but a bright one.

"Thank you. You've helped me remember."

"Whoa! Ricardo-kun?"

I grabbed Alfina's hand. The cool, smooth sensation of her fingers spread through my own hand.

"...I, I'm sorry."

"Ah, no, it's... I'm just glad to see you've gotten your motivation back, Ricardo-kun."

I hurriedly let go of her hand. Alfina pressed both of her hands to her cheeks.

"Right, then, I'll formulate a new policy based on this. You've already done the information gathering, Alfina, so we can start with deciding on a policy."

Was anko rejected because of its color, its beany flavor, or the way it was prepared? Or perhaps the cost?

To make white anko, I'd have to start with a different type of bean. Unlike modern Japan where many varieties were available, that would be difficult here. If I got rid of the anko flavor, it would be pointless. The conversation would just end with "let them eat yellow sugar."

I used my pen to turn my thoughts into sentences.

To create a sweet that is accepted in the kingdom and also fuses with anko, I will utilize senses other than taste.

I had established a new policy. To overcome a culture gap, you can't compete on taste alone. Last time, I did the exact opposite.

Once the policy was decided, the next step was the specific recipe.

"The logical idea would be to use a flour-based foundation and pair it with butter or cream, but..."

It seemed obvious, but it wasn't simple. For example, anman, or dorayaki. There was also imagawayaki. But their appearance was too plain. The texture wasn't particularly new, either.

What about a crepe? A crepe filled with whipped cream and anko. If I added some fruit, it wouldn't look bad.

No, that won't work. In this case, simply swapping out a filling for anko isn't enough. It wouldn't justify the price, and at worst, it would just be seen as an inferior version of a Western dessert. More importantly, it doesn't align with my policy of engaging the other senses.

Faced with my new policy, I fell deep into thought. The tip of my pen wandered across the paper. Hmm, this was difficult.

Just then, the office door opened and Mia poked her head in.

"Senior. Sherry and Rilka are here. They said they found what you asked for."

"What I asked for?"

I tilted my head, hearing two sets of pattering footsteps approaching.