Chapter 647: Echoes

That evening, everyone in the workshop enjoyed a long-awaited feast.

The ingredients for this feast were different from before, sourced from Kankakee—not the dairy cows Wayne had recently written to the mayor about, but the first batch of fresh meat brought by steam train as a "trial run" after Connal's last trip as a human messenger.

The Detective Agency didn't bring all twenty cattle directly back to the workshop; instead, they had Doug notify the pre-arranged slaughterhouse to butcher one animal daily starting the day after tomorrow.

During this period, the slaughterhouse owner would charge storage and processing fees, and in return, would also bear a portion of the accidental losses if any cattle died.

The workshop's ultimate form would, of course, be a one-stop production line from raw materials to various semi-finished products, but unfortunately, this isn't feasible yet.

Adding a cattle pen isn't difficult, but even if the cattle were brought over, the feed for daily rearing would be hard to come by, and daily butchering would be troublesome. Considering that future meat supply might not keep up, and they might occasionally still need to buy high-priced meat locally, there's no rush to expand the business line.

The news arrived a little late, so for this evening's meal, they couldn't wait for the slaughterhouse. One beef cattle was brought directly back to the workshop, where Chef Parker and the Agent on duty personally handled it.

The cooking method followed Wayne's "Western recipe": large steaks, thicker than a palm, were simply marinated and then grilled directly on a griddle, served with sauce and sliced. Even tripe and some internal organs were grudgingly cleaned, blanched, and then mixed with seasonings and holy water.

As for the leftovers, some were marinated to be used as raw materials for processing the next morning, while others could be given to the slaves who usually helped out at the workshop.

Not only "Soften" and Little Black Girl, who were considered locals, but even Chef Parker expressed confusion about such a rough cooking method.

However, some cooking methods naturally have an impactful appeal. Seeing thick, large steaks sizzling and browning on the griddle, regardless of whether it tasted good or not, a normal person would usually want to try it if given the chance.

“Sizzle—”

The freshly grilled large steaks were served on warmed plates and brought to the dining table. Wayne held up a napkin with both hands to partially shield himself, and Chef Parker, following the agreed-upon procedure, poured black pepper sauce over it, creating an appetizing sizzle as steam rose.

The Agents sitting at a distance from the dining table all had expressions of "never seen this before," observing Wayne's actions and learning.

Lina, beside him, looked increasingly suspicious: "Do you really eat like this in the West? Why did I never see it when I was a bounty hunter in Kankakee? And even they find it unfamiliar."

"Just consider it a traditional Blackstone Town way of eating," Wayne rearranged his napkin and began demonstrating with a knife and fork. "Meat is hard to preserve in the West, and there aren't that many permanent residents in town, so whenever an animal is butchered, there's certainly plenty of meat to go around."

"Ugh—so it's how Western landowners eat. The meat is cut so thick that the outside is charred, but the inside is still bleeding. Is it really tasty like this?"

As Lina spoke, Doug and Parker had already served steaks to her and Inessa respectively, one on each side. Little Black Girl was also helping to serve other Agents, mimicking their actions.

The two partners also picked up napkins to shield themselves from the "sizzle." As steam diffused, Inessa quickly but steadily cut a small piece. "The taste is actually not bad."

"The flavor of the spices hasn't marinated in at all; the seasoning relies entirely on the sauce."

Compared to Inessa, who could adapt to Windsor cuisine, Lina was clearly more accustomed to Chef Parker's refined small steaks. "Hmm... it's alright, I guess. It mainly looks quite unique."

People in this era weren't very resistant to raw beef, just as it was rumored that eating raw oysters was popular in Frank. On the contrary, the upper class would occasionally use raw food to imply the "quality" of the ingredients they prepared.

Miss Harley didn't stay for dinner. The Detective Agency members could make do in the wild, so they certainly wouldn't object to such a seemingly well-established way of eating. Accompanied by the occasional grating sound of "knives scraping plates," they ate with widened eyes—though they didn't particularly like the holy water-dressed beef offal; only Little Black Girl enjoyed it immensely with her steak.

After a satisfying meal, Agents with hearty appetites, like the tough guy Sanders, even requested extra servings. Wayne felt that everyone's acceptance of this method was quite good, so he planned to add it to the Detective Agency's guest menu in the future.

Compared to proper Frank dishes, thick-cut steak actually lacks a bit in the richness of its flavor layers, and its elegance is even less comparable.

However, the combination of fat and high-quality protein is naturally popular, and it also appears quite impressive in terms of extravagance. It feels like it won't diminish their standing in front of patrons, making wealthy people mistakenly think the Detective Agency is financially struggling, and it's impressive enough to allow upper-class individuals accustomed to fine dining to experience a bit of "exotic flavor."

Mainly, it's more economical.

Damn, high-end restaurants are expensive, and you need connections or reservations, plus they don't even have private rooms, making conversation inconvenient. It's better to invite people to eat in the workshop's small cafeteria.

After dinner, the partners looked at the intelligence summarized by “Soften” and his team in the archive room, correcting their understanding of the Ireland Violent Group's behind-the-scenes boss. For tonight, they decided to let everyone continue resting.

Except for the Agents on night duty, everyone else was free to do as they pleased. Connal followed Inessa to the kitchen to learn and help prepare injections. Teacher Lina checked Little Black Girl's recent learning progress. Some Plantation slaves who usually helped at the workshop were also called to take away some fresh meat, bones, and internal organs as scraps.

Wayne didn't continue organizing his "flashes of inspiration"; instead, he looked at the recent financial records of the restaurant and workshop.

Thanks to the weekly wage system, salaried employees had to receive their pay every week to support their families, and bosses, of course, had to receive payments promptly. In this era, the cash flow of small businesses was still quite fast.

The workshop's current supply of meat patties, sauces, and reprocessed cheese isn't overly priced. Luncheon meat, produced to process scraps, is still in its promotion phase, often half-sold and half-given away, and its wholesale price to large customers hasn't increased. It's basically breaking even with a slight surplus.

The restaurant's profits, however, have accumulated imperceptibly. The popular beef burgers currently have a gross profit margin of about 30%, while luncheon meat burgers and sandwiches can reach 60%, with room for further increase.

In contrast, since oil consumption is attributed to burgers, the slightly lower-selling fries and drinks are almost pure profit. Customers who order extra reprocessed cheese and luncheon meat in their burgers also contribute a significant amount of profit.

Because there's no need to pay storefront rent and it's still in the new product's boom period, after deducting costs, the restaurant sells nearly 100 half-pound burgers plus other items on average each day. Recently, the weekly net profit has even barely exceeded 100 American dollars—provided that the store renovation costs aren't amortized. According to Willie, many people are attracted by the all-glass display window.

Promotional activities also played a role. People in the city who chose to eat at the restaurant generally had higher incomes than those in the Dock Area. After winning a burger or coupon, they often didn't mind spending a few more cents on fries or drinks to try them, which surprisingly slightly increased the profit margin over time.

Hmm...

If Mr. Russell hadn't provided the storefront for free, Wayne would now want to raise the price of semi-finished products supplied from the workshop to the restaurant...

After all, if the restaurant had to grind its own meat, make its own sauces, and produce its own luncheon meat, even with market demand, it would be impossible to serve so many meals in a day in this era.

Even the thick-cut fries are now processed by a waterwheel in the river next to the workshop to remove dirt and some of the skin, then pressed with a grated iron device and soaked in salt water before being transported. In other restaurants, with such a large workload, just this one step would likely require hiring a dedicated person.

For example, the Police Station and the prosecutor's office have bought in bulk several times. Regular restaurants are too busy to handle orders even during peak meal times.

Also, some wealthy people's butlers or coachmen have become customers. They don't lack small money; what they lack is dining time. They just pick up their orders on the way, and it's warm without worrying about spills from bumps.

If sales could continue like this, that would be great. He's just worried that citizens will quickly get tired of it.

However, even if the boom period passes and sales slightly decline, if meat can be supplied directly from Kankakee, and they continue to improve the process and add new products, the net profit will likely remain stable despite the increases and decreases.

Wayne was pondering what other profit margins could be explored when he suddenly felt something was amiss.

He seemed to faintly hear sounds of struggling and someone crying out in pain, not too far from his small wooden house.

The Arena in the workshop isn't on this side, and Agents wouldn't spar in this vicinity.

Considering that the owl didn't "hoot" and someone was on duty tonight, Wayne initially thought it was some of the new members who had recently joined the Detective Agency and hadn't gone through induction training, engaging in an ambush outside the Arena late at night—Connal, that guy, had done such a showy act of "you can attack me anytime, if you win, you win."

But as soon as Wayne stepped out of his small wooden house, he heard Lina, who had exited her room a step earlier, blow a warning whistle nearby.

Hearing the sound, Agents began to arrive from near and far, and Inessa's figure quickly appeared in the distance.

Standing calmly within the encirclement were several black-clad figures in trench coats and top hats.

The leader of the group, whose body appeared quite bulky even under the slimming black trench coat, took off his top hat to reveal a kind-looking, unremarkable large Fat Man with a receding hairline that almost reached the back of his head, forming a "C" shape with the hair at his temples:

"I am Peter Clemenza, a friend and former colleague of Tom Hagen. My visit this time was not meant to disturb unrelated people, but I didn't expect your guards here to be quite good, more stringent than I imagined."

Tom Hagen never mentioned him...

And if you spell out the formal proper name, are you also a "Peter," just like Lina's Peter the Spider?

Although having the same name is common in America, it was unexpected that "Spider-Man" could not only be divided into Peter the Spider and Chef Parker, but now could be further divided, even completing the "Spider-Pig-Man" set.

Wayne muttered to himself, looking at “Ruihua” and Swamp, who were restrained behind the man: "If there's no ill intent, then release my people first."

The man waved his hand at those behind him, and with the gesture, he looked even more like a carefree, portly man.

However, the spiritual pressure that instantly overflowed from him and then immediately receded was far from as amiable as his expression: "You don't seem to have heard my name? Rest assured, if I had ill intent, they wouldn't still be in this state."

Well, well,

Although intuition is hard to describe, certain feelings are not unfamiliar to the quick-draw gunmen of the West.

Regardless of actual strength, some people's demeanor simply carries that kind of certainty, as if they have extensive successful experience and know "how to quickly dispatch an enemy."

Clothes make the man.

This guy, at his core, is probably also of the "black series."