In a certain building in Tokyo, robed individuals come in masses. The building has been selected to hold the infamous black market of umamusumes. It's not only the Tracen Academy's students who will attend the black market, umamusumes from all walks of life, from different schools and academies will also attend. Several merchants have made a name for themselves in this market, amongst them is Agnes Tachyon, the Mad Scientist of Tracen Academy.
They put me in some prime spot, eh?
Tachyon arrives at her stall. Compared to the other, her stall is grander with some extra space to store her items. It was also pretty close to the gates, so most umas who ordered her stuff will go to her first. Considering how many of them had ordered from her, it was most likely done so that they would get her done first.
You can't see anyone's faces in here.
It's a place where people do illegal business. What do you expect?
Are you not afraid that you might be helping people to get our darling?
I'm not selling anything too powerful. I know how to keep myself safe.
Even though the number of people inside the building could reach the thousands, there was so little talk that it felt surreal. No one tries to strike up a small chit chat. No one tries to make a friend. Everyone was there only for business.
That should do it.
Tachyon calmly sat down after she pulled out all the packages from her luggage and put them around her. The black market isn't like your average wet market, where you could browse the merchant's items in their face. You can only bring home items that you have ordered beforehand.
*Tap* *Tap*
"..."
A robed umamusume stands in front of Tachyon's table and rummages through something inside her robe. She then pulls out a tied-up stack of cash and pushes it to Tachyon. Tachyon carefully grabs the stack of cash and counts it as if her life depends on it.
"Two-five-zero-eight-nine-seven-one."
"Indeed."
After getting her confirmation, Tachyon scans around her packages before picking one that has been labelled with the same number as the amount of the cash. She hands it over to the robed figure, and off the robed figure goes.
The system of the black market starts from the organisers sending invitations to trusted merchants, whether they want to attend the next black market or not. Attending merchants would send their catalogues to the organiser for them to review.
After that, the organiser would send the complete catalogue to potential buyers for them to look through and place an order. They would send the catalogue that they had scribbled with their orders back to the organiser.
The organiser would then put a random and specific code for one buyer on one merchant. The code would be sent to the merchant to mark their items, but the organiser didn't tell them who bought it. This is to keep the secrecy of the buyers.
In the black market, the buyer would give the merchant an amount of money that matches their code. The price of the goods here is higher than the amount of money they would spend to spell out the code, so if anyone were to have trouble paying for the code, then they shouldn't be here in the first place.
"One-five-two-three-nine. Here's your order."
"Thank you."
As time goes on, the orders beside Tachyon slowly dwindle. But it still looks mountainous. Being the Mad Scientist, Agnes Tachyon provides goods that only a few can really match. You can find 'toys' and 'tools' from basically every merchant in the black market, but you couldn't find 'performance-enhancing' drugs as varied as Tachyon on some random stall. The umamusumes would need to go to an international ring of illegal merchants to even purchase substances similar to the ones Tachyon provided, and of course, much more expensive as well.
There are so few of them that actually ordered Darling's sweat… Did you really promote it?
I can't put some random ads on the internet or TV, idiot. Besides, I already prepared some samples.
Once the number of packages besides her has been reduced to half of its original size, Tachyon can finally pull up a basket labelled 'free sample', which is filled with small vials. The vials are the same size as her index finger, and each of the vials is labelled with either 10% or 50%.
A free sample will quickly disappear, and that effect only heightens when it comes to Agnes Tachyon. Robed figures gathered around Tachyon's table, looking at free samples curiously. They carefully grab one and put it to their noses. Each of them have different reaction depending on which concentrate they're smelling, but all of them feel a sense of joy inside.
"Next time, make sure to buy them, okay?"
"..."
Everyone gulps at Tachyon's words. They want to buy it straightaway, but the rules of the black market state that they need to order first. They can only accept their fates and curse themselves for not buying the perfumes.
See? They're drooling all over him. I can also make the perfumes more expensive than today.
You're a sly bitch.
Night marches forward, and eventually, Tachyon's number of packages reaches 0. She had delivered all of the orders, so there's nothing else for her to do other than pack up and be ready to go back to Tracen. But as Tachyon was busy packing her stuff, another robed figure came and stood in front of her table.
"This is a surprise~ I was about to give you the money and the list as I leave the place, but this is the first time you ever directly came to my table. May I help you with something, Alphine?"
"The perfumes, I'm putting in a direct order for someone."
"If I'm not mistaken, shouldn't you put your order days beforehand instead of now? Is there a change in the rules?"
"No. A very urgent order has just been made, and your perfumes are in need. Ten times, the clients are willing to pay ten times the price you set for one bottle."
"Ooohh~~"
Since this is the debut for the perfume, Tachyon had intentionally put the price a little bit lower than she originally planned. But even then, the price isn't dirt cheap. It's still hella expensive, and the client is willing to pay 10 times the number. Whoever she is, she has to be filthy rich and desperate.
"How much?"
"Twenty of each variant."
Kukuku~~ I'll treat the boss as a thanks for his sweaty work.