She knew exactly what she had painted. These symbols were purely decorative; they weren't standardized like those used by the Winchester brothers, nor were they infused with any psionic energy. They wouldn't produce any effects whatsoever.
While setting up the shop, Bella was also lining up suppliers for her inventory.
The Quileute tribe in Forks was a huge help. The tribe had stockpiled a large amount of handmade goods—wood carvings, totems, masks, animal hides, as well as various wooden basins, bowls, and tables used for rituals. They had everything one could ask for, all novelties that city folk had never seen before.
"That's great, Uncle! I'll take them all!" Bella was quite pleased.
On the other end of the phone, the Native American elder didn't want to rip off his old friend's daughter, so he reminded her in a roundabout way, "The effects of these things won't reach the level you're anticipating."
Bella didn't care in the slightest. "It doesn't matter. I want the useless ones. Whatever you do, don't sell me the useful ones!"
I really don't understand you city people! Seeing that she was insistent on buying, the elder advised her twice more before giving up.
It was like a clearance sale. The young men of the Quileute tribe drove trucks and carted all the pots, pans, and miscellaneous items to San Francisco for her.
The elder even helped contact two other tribes, shipping over all sorts of tattered feather headdresses, stone spears, slings, and the like.
Bella quickly made a plan: the first floor would be for commercial use, and the second floor would serve as a warehouse.
The name of the shop was a bit long: The Weyland Magic Item & Special Goods Store!
As for why it was named Weyland and not derived from the letters of Charlie, Bella, or Natasha's names—it was because of an agreement made with the previous owner when purchasing the shop.
The seller lowered the price from ninety thousand to eighty-five thousand, and in return, Bella agreed to keep the previous store name, only changing the nature of the business.
Bella asked Chris about the story behind it, and Chris sighed repeatedly at the mention of the name Weyland.
Peter Weyland was the old owner's youngest son. He was very smart from a young age, but unfortunately died in Mumbai before he turned ten. To commemorate his son, the old owner named the shop Weyland. As for why he didn't call it Peter—well, there were simply too many people named Peter.
Bella had no attachment to the shop's name. Keeping it saved her five thousand dollars, which was good news. Besides, the name Weyland didn't seem to have any connection to Bella, Charlie, or Natasha, so no one would easily link it to her.
With the shop and the inventory ready, Bella began preparing for the opening.
Vaguely, she felt a twinge of regret—she had been too impulsive! She had fallen into the trap of impulse buying. It would have been better to just rent this shop; why did she get so heated and buy it outright?
Looking at property prices, she had to admit the shop was indeed cheap, but the location was a bit remote. She crunched the numbers on her calculator and was dumbfounded by the final figure. Counting the shop and various expenses, it was solidly over a hundred thousand dollars! Selling this pile of knockoff junk—when would she ever break even?
Regardless, the Weyland Magic Item & Special Goods Store was officially open.
After surveying half of San Francisco's "magic item" market and making several comparisons, Bella launched her store's flagship product: the Lucky Rabbit's Foot!
Westerners were obsessed with this thing. Besides, luck was something invisible and intangible. If you said it was there, it was there; if you said it wasn't, it wasn't. There was no issue of authenticity because there was simply no way to verify it.
The supply came from the Native American tribes. The tribes had no use for these things, and seeing that she had a demand, they bundled them all up and sold them to her. As for whether these were actually rabbit feet, or specifically the left hind leg of a rabbit shot in a graveyard—there was no need to fuss over such minor details.
"How's your business? Have you made a hundred dollars these past few days?" Natasha called amidst her busy schedule to tease her bargain-bin sister.
Bella looked at the one hundred twelve dollars and fifty cents in the drawer and felt a wave of bitterness. This startup of hers... was it roughly, possibly, perhaps, maybe a failure?
Earning one hundred dollars in three days meant that to recoup the hundred-thousand-dollar cost, she would have to work for at least a dozen years. And she couldn't take breaks; working in fits and starts definitely wouldn't cut it...
Her heart was bleak, but her mouth remained stubborn. "It's going great. Business is booming—I can't even keep up. I'm telling you, pretty soon I'm going to open branches in Silicon Valley and Los Angeles!"
Natasha used a "Heh-heh" as a concluding remark and hung up.
Bella was worried sick. Stop loss! How could she stop her losses?
She couldn't think of a good solution, so she responded with the simplest logic: Wait. Wait for property prices to rise, then sell the shop!
Maybe by then, she would get everything back, principal and interest included?
Realizing that she wouldn't lose her entire investment, her mindset finally stabilized a bit.
The shop could be sold later, and it would be best to get rid of the "props" in the store now as well—earning a little was better than nothing.
She posted a hiring notice outside the shop. She had to go back to school to study; that was where she belonged. Bella really didn't want to waste time at the shop anymore. She would hire someone to work while she became a hands-off boss.
Less than a day after the notice was posted, an applicant arrived.
"Mr. Max, here's the situation. I need you to work twenty-two days a month, staying in the shop for twelve hours a day. Although the hours seem long, it's actually very leisurely here. You basically don't have to do any real work, physically or mentally. I also don't need you to do any sales promotion. You just stay here; if someone comes to buy something, you collect the money and say 'please come again,' and that's it! Much more relaxing than those fast-food joints outside, right?"
Bella talked up the job enthusiastically, spinning a story about how leisurely and quiet it was. She hinted that Max's working hours would be very flexible; when there were no customers, he could do his own thing in the store. If he got really bored, there was a small TV in the shop—though it was only nine inches and black-and-white, it was still good enough to catch a ball game...
The young man named Max was a few years older than her. It looked like he had started working right after high school. He was a young man with curly hair and a small mustache. He held a helmet and a skateboard in his hand and didn't even own a car, which suggested he wasn't doing too well financially.
The gloomy environment of the shop formed a sharp contrast with Bella's beauty. The young man didn't quite dare to look at her, seemingly afraid she might turn into some man-eating monster.
"Um... uh... can I ask? What's the monthly salary?" he asked, raising the question Bella had been deliberately avoiding.