Chapter 261 - 26: If Nothing Goes Wrong...

In the morning, the Godfather’s car arrived as expected.

He strode into the kitchen, eager to reward his chef and helpers first thing.

The Godfather held a bouquet of fresh flowers, and nestled within was a bottle of last century’s red wine. It was from his hometown, from a vineyard in faraway Sisyphus, and it was filled with the fragrance of home.

He was about to see his fine product. Excellent french fries, piled up high and golden like a bountiful wheat harvest. The cheap labor would process these fine goods in batches, then distribute them throughout the entire city.

The smile on his face froze the moment he stepped into the room.

Piles of black mud were stacked up like mountains. As far as the eye could see, every spot and every container in the spacious kitchen was filled with black sludge.

The golden color he had imagined was nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by this unpleasant black substance.

Suppressing the urge to put a bullet in Johnson, he summoned the man and asked through gritted teeth, "Mr. Johnson, where is my product?"

"Please, have a taste."

The Godfather frowned, looking at what the other man was offering.

’Are you messing with me?’

Staring coldly at Johnson, he decided he would tie the man to the back of his Beetle and drag him around the city for a lap, just to teach him the consequences of angering a Godfather.

But first, he decided he would eat it, give the man a smile in return, and then kill him slowly.

So, he put the mud in his mouth.

And then, he was utterly conquered.

For someone with his exceptionally sensitive palate, this was a gift from God to all mankind, the highest praise the tongue could ever experience.

With this, even the Angels would look the other way, allowing a man as wicked as him to ascend to heaven and feel the glory of God.

Unconsciously, he had already spread his arms wide as if to welcome the Holy Light from above, tears streaming down his face.

"Sir?" Johnson asked.

"It’s nothing." The Godfather wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. "You’ve done well. You’ve done very, very well!"

"Ah, thank you."

"This is a groundbreaking food, the darling of a new world! I guarantee it will be a sensation, a must-have delicacy for everyone."

"Please wait a moment, Mr. Godfather."

Interrupted, the Godfather turned his head in displeasure and saw Duan Fei waving at him.

Out of respect for the helper, he gave a polite nod and asked, "What is it, young man?"

"Nothing much. I just wanted to ask how you plan on selling this product."

"I have the second-largest sales network in this city. I have my people in every single bar. They’ll help me sell this stuff. You don’t need to worry about the process at all."

"That sounds great, but I have a small suggestion. Are you interested in cooperating with the government?"

The Godfather’s face hardened, and he was about to rebuke Duan Fei for his wild idea, but then his expression instantly grew solemn.

Covering his mouth, he began to pace quickly around the kitchen, continuously eating the black mashed potatoes as he walked.

These mashed potatoes looked even more disgusting than the government-rationed "pills." No one would believe that they concealed an unprecedented deliciousness.

’If I could use this to trick the government, and then mix it into their official channels, what would happen next?’

’Everyone would yearn for it. Everyone would beg for it. They would desperately seek other ways to get these black mashed potatoes, and they would start coming to me.’

’At that point, the entire city’s population would become my servants, providing me with vast sums of money. That would allow me to expand outward, all the way across the North American Republic.’

’Not only that, but distant England would also be a target. Even Sisyphus, that remote and sweet homeland, could be brought under my control, becoming my territory.’

"Ah..."

Letting out a contented sigh, the Godfather looked at Duan Fei, his gaze full of fatherly affection.

"Child, you’ve presented a whole new way of thinking. You’ve given me an epiphany. I will make this happen. You just wait for my good news."

"You’ve got this, Godfather! Do it for the mashed potatoes’ market share!"

"That’s right, I can do it! Package up the mashed potatoes here and get them ready. Get a batch out the door. I’m going to lobby those councilmen!"

Watching the Godfather hurry away, Duan Fei remarked with emotion, "This is great. It’s so nice to have an NPC to help with this sort of thing."

"Duan... you..."

"Cuihua, no need to praise me. It’s what I ought to do."

"Mmm..."

The first wave of promoting the mashed potatoes met with a bit of a setback.

The initial setback came from within the ranks.

Upon learning they had to push this black, unidentified substance, every broker in the bars declared they would rather be the government’s lackeys than sell the stuff.

Thus, the gang members had to press machine guns to the brokers’ heads, forcing them to take a bite. Only when the brokers were in a state of ecstasy did they leave the mashed potatoes with them.

Afterward, the brokers’ promotional efforts didn’t go smoothly either. After all, no one wanted to eat something that looked like it had been scraped out of a sewer.

But the brokers weren’t idiots. They decisively adopted a "try before you buy" policy, and it wasn’t long before they had the bar regulars hooked.

With the first batch of customers, the black mashed potatoes began to spread in a way that defied all laws of marketing.

Gourmands began to spread the word among themselves. Every bag of the black substance would trigger their unique alertness, and they were always ready to have a taste.

By the evening of the second day after Duan Fei and his group arrived, the third batch of mashed potatoes had already sold out.

A share of the profits was delivered to Johnson. The hefty sum made him pinch himself several times; he couldn’t believe his daily pay could be so high.

He planned to split his share three ways, giving a portion to Duan Fei and Cuihua, but they both refused.

After all, the money was useless to them. It was better to give it to Johnson and boost his morale.

After confirming several times that they didn’t want it, Johnson could only accept it with tears in his eyes. Then, his morale surged, and he threw himself into the next wave of work.

As for Duan Fei and his group, they had already gotten what they wanted from Johnson.

Although their motivations were different from the Godfather’s, Duan Fei and Cuihua both wanted Johnson to do as much as possible—ideally, to make the mashed potatoes a staple for everyone overnight.

At the same time, another piece of good news arrived.

The Godfather had obtained the government’s food production rights.

From now on, his people could openly and legitimately use government channels to purchase ingredients, manufacture the product, and deliver their goods to thousands of households.

They didn’t need to do much—just slip a little in every now and then.

That little bit would be the potion that tempted them to fall, reminding them of that exquisite taste on the tips of their tongues, and in turn making them the Foreigners’ best customers.

And Duan Fei’s group would be able to smoothly push their market share above 50%, completing the instance with ease.

Unfortunately, something unexpected happened.

One of their warehouses was burned down.