Chapter 259 - 24: On How Dark Cuisine Is Born

Duan Fei had tried Johnson’s fries before and knew his control over the heat was second to none. He realized there was huge potential in french fries.

Now that he knew the gangster Godfather was determined to build an enterprise on french fries, Duan Fei weighed the pros and cons. He realized their interests were aligned, making cooperation with the gang a viable option.

Beside him, Johnson had already finished negotiating terms with the Godfather.

After agreeing to give Johnson a share of the profits, the Godfather made the sign of the cross in satisfaction. He then looked at Duan Fei and Cuihua and asked, "Mr. Johnson, what is your relationship with these two?"

"Friends," Johnson said instantly, which moved Cuihua to no end.

"Friends... A friend of a friend is my friend. You have earned our gang’s friendship. Mr. Johnson, please start work as soon as you can. I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do."

The Godfather opened a drawer, took out a seal, and personally handed it to Johnson.

"This is my seal of trust. There are five hundred US Dollars in the safe—that’s your startup capital. Alright, I have business in another district, so I’ll leave this building to you for the time being. I’ll send someone to pick up the first shipment at noon tomorrow."

Taking his coat from the rack, the Godfather gave a polite nod and left.

A moment later, the sound of a car starting echoed from outside. The Godfather got into a black Volkswagen Beetle and sped off, protected by his fellow gang members.

Looking at the five hundred US Dollars in the envelope, Johnson remarked, "What a good man."

In those days, the average monthly salary for a common worker was 200 US Dollars. The Godfather’s offer of two and a half months’ wages as startup capital was quite generous.

The building’s basement housed a hidden kitchen. All cooking fumes were specially treated to avoid detection by the Gourmet Police.

It was also located near the sewer system. In an emergency, they could quickly dump everything into the sewers and escape through them.

The Godfather had already prepared all the necessary tools. There was plenty of clear cooking oil, and the warehouse was filled with a mountain of potatoes—specifically, the Queen variety, purchased from next door and considered the best for making french fries.

Gazing at the round, appealingly-sized potatoes, Johnson stroked them as if caressing a lover. "This stuff is amazing," he said with satisfaction.

Turning his head, he said to the gang members who had come along, "Don’t just stand there. Come and help."

"What do you need us to do?" a gang member asked.

"Wash the potatoes, then get the milk ready for me. These potatoes need to soak for at least six hours. And, Cuihua, you’re a Chef too, right? Can you come and help?"

"Me...?"

"If you can’t, that’s fine."

"I c-can..."

Cuihua nodded frantically and rushed forward to help, thrilled.

’Please don’t let her make anything poisonous,’ Duan Fei could only pray.

Seeing there was nothing for him to do for the time being, Duan Fei asked someone for the past six months’ worth of newspapers and began to read them thoroughly.

The main quest had been triggered. A total of three teams were competing against each other in this instance, but for now, he had no idea who the other two factions were.

Each team’s objective was likely the same: they all had to launch their food product and be the first to capture over 50% of the market share.

The food products could be the same or different, and their marketing strategies would vary. Furthermore, this instance was set six months after the Fasting Order was issued, a time when new cuisine could spread more easily.

Contrary to common sense, the quality of the food wasn’t the most important factor for gaining market share.

Factors like cost-effectiveness, how easily it could be distributed, and portability would all influence a food’s market share. Therefore, it was crucial to have a thorough understanding of the general situation.

Fortunately, after looking through the last six months of newspapers, Duan Fei concluded that french fries were actually a perfect fit.

They were easy to make and simple to store. After being cooked, they could be preserved for a long time by being packaged with nitrogen, and they were perfectly suited for distribution by gangsters.

And with Johnson on board, his control over the heat could make even ordinary fries taste great, which meant their fries could be mass-produced.

Since their own product was solid, the problem now lay with the other two teams.

After finishing the recent newspapers, Duan Fei pulled up a chair and sat down next to a gang member.

The gang member wore a black cape, a wide-brimmed black hat, and black gloves. He was a gangster through and through.

However, this man was currently sitting on a small stool, peeling potatoes with surprisingly skillful movements.

"You’re a real pro at that," Duan Fei couldn’t help but remark.

"Yeah, peeling is part of our required training. We all have to learn," the man replied seriously.

"I guess we have different ideas about what gangsters do, but that’s not important. I wanted to ask, how many major gangs are there in this city?"

The man stopped his paring knife and thought for a moment before answering. "Three. We’re the second strongest. The other two are the Clown Gang and the Gentlemen’s Association. We’re the Foreigners."

The gangs’ names had their own meanings. For example, the name of Duan Fei’s current gang, the Foreigners, meant they were outsiders.

The Clown Gang’s name suggested it was full of lunatics, while the Gentlemen’s Association’s name implied they were more honorable—a sort of old-school, tough-guy type of gang.

With this information, Duan Fei knew that as long as the players on the other two teams weren’t idiots, they would surely ally themselves with the other two gangs.

Everyone had entered the instance at roughly the same time. Assuming the other players were as smart as he was, they had probably also found a viable food product and were preparing to make their move.

In other words, the food war was about to begin.

While Duan Fei was lost in thought, Johnson finished preparing the potatoes for the fries.

Wiping his hands, he said to Cuihua with satisfaction, "I have to say, you’re the most talented Chef I’ve ever met."

Cuihua’s face flushed with excitement. She felt her dream of being a Chef had been completely validated.

"Th..."

"I’m very happy to be working with you. Although the authorities think we’re doing something evil, they’re the ones who are truly evil. People can’t live without good food—it’s the most beautiful and instinctive part of our lives. Any act that defies instinct is doomed to fail."

"It’s n..."

"Now, Cuihua, let’s give it our all! Duan Fei, you too! We’ll make it so everyone in this city can eat our fries for breakfast!"

Duan Fei looked awkwardly at the fired-up Johnson. "Can I sit this one out? I feel like my vibe doesn’t really match you guys."

"Are you trying to make me beg you?" Johnson asked, frowning.

With a sigh, Duan Fei could only step forward and start frying french fries with the two of them.

Twenty minutes later, he fell silent as he stared at the culinary disaster that was fresh out of the fryer.