Unveiled

Seeing the surging, almost violent crowd below, and with all the invited members present, Dutch finally nodded, a triumphant gleam in his eye. "Of course, ladies, of course!"

He then arranged for Dorothea, Ann, and Alice, the three unwitting co-conspirators, to stand beside the backstage area, their faces alight with anticipation. Dutch then picked up a portable megaphone, its brass gleaming, and strode onto the small, hastily erected wooden platform.

Looking down at the boisterous, almost frantic crowd below, he made a grand, pausing gesture with his free hand, then, his voice booming like a prophet's, declared: "Gentlemen, ladies, please quiet down! The ribbon-cutting ceremony for our 'VDL' Clothing Store officially begins!"

As Dutch spoke, the roaring discussions in the audience began to noticeably diminish, a sudden, almost stunned hush descending. Some disobedient whispers, quickly met by the icy glares of the ravenous ladies nearby, involuntarily ceased. These women were like a pack of starving wolves eyeing a fresh kill. At this moment, anyone who dared to prolong the agony of waiting would truly incur the public's terrifying wrath.

Watching the atmosphere below gradually quiet down to a low, anticipatory hum, Dutch beamed, a blindingly charming smile, and bowed deeply to the enthralled audience.

"First," he began, his voice resonating with theatrical sincerity, "I want to thank each and every one of you for your unwavering support of our 'VDL' Clothing Store. I am profoundly honored by your esteemed presence! Our 'VDL' Clothing Store is a brand, a revolution! Though you may not have heard our name yet, in the very near future, our 'VDL' Clothing Store will surely lead the world's fashion trends! And the magnificent clothing styles worn by these exquisite girls behind me," he swept a hand towards the models, who preened slightly, "will be the very first shot fired by our 'VDL' Clothing Store to establish its undeniable brand!"

Dutch's opening sentences had successfully electrified the atmosphere. He paused, letting the anticipation build, then launched into his full, carefully constructed sales pitch.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our clothing store adopts a unified pricing method for all clothing of the same season. Currently, every single garment has a unified retail price of thirty dollars!" A few murmurs rippled through the crowd, but Dutch silenced them with a grand gesture. "However, to give back to our esteemed customers, our Van der Linde organization will introduce an exclusive membership system! Customers who accumulate or directly deposit one thousand dollars ($1000) or more at our 'VDL' Clothing Store will receive a prestigious membership spot at our 'VDL' Clothing Store!" He paused again, letting the dollar amount sink in.

"For our esteemed members, the price of each garment will be permanently reduced by five dollars ($5)! In addition," Dutch leaned in conspiratorially, his voice dropping slightly, "our 'VDL' Clothing Store will hold irregular, exclusive member banquets, to which all members will be invited! Those who wish to make friends, to forge invaluable connections, must not miss this!" He winked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Furthermore, our 'VDL' Clothing Store will provide every member with an exclusive, truly magnificent reward. Among every ten consecutive numbered memberships acquired, we will select one lucky member, and design a brand-new, exclusive clothing style named after that member! The lucky member's name will resonate throughout the world as our 'VDL' clothing is released!" Dutch's passionate voice, amplified by the megaphone, echoed through the venue, causing gasps and exclamations to ripple through the crowd like a shockwave.

When had they ever experienced such a sales pitch? These "simple people," who rarely saw anything more than crude advertisements, were utterly astonished by such modern, sophisticated sales tactics. The one-thousand-dollar membership fee? For these obscenely rich individuals, it was mere pocket change. But the lure of an exclusive clothing item named after them? That, Dutch knew, was an irresistible, unparalleled temptation. It wasn't about whether someone said something and it was believed or money was given. It was about the status.

And the clothing Dutch produced was simply too beautiful; its various styles were destined to become instant classics, widely circulated, endlessly copied. The intangible benefits offered by this promise were ridiculously high. Not just saving five dollars per garment, or rubbing shoulders with high-ranking dignitaries—the last point alone, the promise of immortalized fame, made the one thousand dollars a complete steal, an investment that would yield unimaginable profits. Because he was giving these rich people fame. Creating clothes was one form of fame, but the prestigious membership status itself was a tangible manifestation of power and social standing.

And that subtle nuance, "drawing one from ten consecutive numbered members," meant that by simply paying a total of ten thousand dollars ($10,000) for ten consecutive memberships, one could absolutely, guarantee themselves a named clothing style! The truly cunning minds in the audience, the high rollers, grasped this unspoken truth almost immediately.

So, as Dutch announced this dazzling series of conditions, the wealthy elite in the audience were almost vibrating with impatience, their hands already itching to start depositing money.

"Oh, my goodness, I feel I brought too little money today! No, I must go back and get money quickly! I must be at the very front!" a lady shrieked, clutching her purse.

"Oh, dear, I've changed my mind!" another gasped, her eyes wide.

"What? Can you accept me wearing these beautiful clothes now?" a man called out, utterly oblivious to the chaos he was about to unleash.

"No! I just want to deposit money! Believe me, the first ten spots are worth a fortune! You can't even buy such an opportunity with money!" a shrewd-looking gentleman declared, already pushing his way forward.

There were many sharp minds in the audience, and they almost instantly realized the game Dutch was playing. Immediately, some began to push their way to the front, frantic to pay and secure their membership as soon as possible. Dutch's third point—the promise of a named garment—was indeed a colossal attraction, but only in these crucial early stages. Perhaps he could conjure unique features for later designs, but no matter how brilliantly conceived, how truly outstanding, only the first ten, or even the first five, named spots would achieve true, lasting fame. This was where the peak popularity lay, the novelty creating an explosion of desire. When there were dozens, hundreds, or even thousands of named spots, who would still pay attention?

These rich people might not be physically imposing, but their senses were razor-sharp. They immediately began sending their bewildered servants scrambling back to fetch money, desperate to buy out or compete for the precious front spots, to secure their immortality through fabric.

Dutch on the stage, a picture of serene confidence, watched the pandemonium unfold below. The crowd was a swirling, anxious mass, like ants on a hot pan, desperately rushing to throw money at him.

And with Dorothea, Ann, and Alice, their faces alight with self-importance, dramatically slicing the ceremonial ribbon, the 'VDL' Clothing Store officially roared open for business.

Almost the very moment the doors swung inward, a human tide surged forward. Surprisingly, it was mostly men.

"Shit! I want to deposit ten thousand! I want the first ten membership spots!" a man bellowed, shoving his way to the front desk, a wad of cash clutched in his fist.

"Fuck you! Give me the first ten spots! I also want to deposit ten thousand!" another roared back, a vein throbbing in his temple, his hand slapping down a thick stack of bills.

"What! You, a man, why are you fighting for our spots?!" a furious woman shrieked, her face contorted in disbelief.

A chaotic scrum of men, their suits rumpled, their dignity forgotten, battled at the front desk, each desperate to secure the first ten, most valuable, spots. Those behind, consumed by an almost unhinged anxiety, even began to simply throw money over the heads of the jostling throng, desperate to snatch the opportunity for the very first, most prestigious, membership. All beginnings, Dutch knew, were inherently the most famous, the most legendary—like the first ascent of Mount Everest, or the first, exhilarating sip of cola. Therefore, the first ten membership spots were priceless. Even if only one lucky member would actually get their name on a garment, it was absolutely not a loss to exchange ten thousand dollars for such a gamble.

The intangible benefits brought by this fleeting, manufactured fame were simply unimaginable for these rich people; they could even auction off their names, their very identities, to gain even more money! Or, even better, snatch these coveted spots and then, with cruel irony, auction them off to lesser mortals! For them, the ten thousand dollar expense would be easily recouped, a paltry sum for a taste of immortality.

And Dutch? He would accumulate a staggering amount of capital in a shockingly short period.

This, then, was Dutch's true, overarching objective. To amass a vast, liquid war chest in record time, then to advance, unimpeded, to Guarma. There, he would purchase the equipment, recruit the workers, and finally, gloriously, enter the lucrative, brutal arms industry.