Investing In My Three Crippled Wives Get 10,000x Times Return

Chapter 169: 169 | The Scheme!

The walk took about five minutes.

When he arrived, he saw the shop was busy this morning.

Several customers stood in line at the counter. Some were regulars picking up their morning order. Others were browsing the pastry selection. A mother with two children was trying to decide between croissants and muffins while the children tugged at her sleeves and pointed at everything.

Behind the counter, Tessa was in her element.

She wore a clean white apron over her blue dress, her curly red hair tied back with a ribbon as she packed pastries into paper bags, making change, calling out order numbers, and chatting with customers all at the same time.

The moment Tessa saw Dexter walk through the door, her face lit up.

She turned to the older man beside her. "Take over the register for a second."

Then she ducked under the counter and hurried over to Dexter, her curly hair bouncing.

"Hey, Dexter!" She grinned. "You’re here earlier than I expected."

Dexter nodded. "Yeah. Cooking didn’t take as long as I thought."

He raised both hands. In each hand, he held a large bag containing ten sealed containers.

"I came to deliver the items," he said, glancing around the busy shop. "Though I have to be honest. I’m worried."

Tessa raised an eyebrow. "Worried about what?"

Dexter lowered his voice slightly. "No one in their right mind is going to spend 5,000 Dollars on a meal made by a stranger without a reputation. "

Tessa shook her head slowly.

"You truly do underestimate the people in this neighborhood."

She crossed her arms and leaned against one foot as she smirked.

"Some people here are not as simple as you think, Dexter. You’re always indoors. Apart from me and Grandma Lucy, you don’t know anyone. You should get to know them." She tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "I think they’d like you."

Dexter raised an eye brow but shrugged.

"Maybe I should."

Tessa’s smile widened.

"Come on," she said, taking one of the bags from his hand. "Let’s get these in the display case. Hen- Dad cleared a shelf specifically for your meals."

She led him behind the counter, past the ovens, to a large glass display case near the front window.

A small handwritten sign sat on the empty shelf.

"Arcane Meals— Fresh Daily — Made by A Master Foodsmith."

"6000 dollars per Portion."

"6000?" he asked. "I was thinking 5000 first to gauge the reactions of customers."

Tessa shrugged. "Henry and I discussed it. If we stuck to 5000 which is the lowest, people won’t want to purchase something so low. But 6,000 will make them curious. And once word spreads about the effects and taste..." She grinned. "We’ll sell out by noon."

Dexter raised an eyebrow. "That confident?"

Tessa placed the first container on the shelf with a click.

"Let me put it this way," she said. "There’s a retired hero two streets over who can’t cultivate anymore because of a broken sternum. There’s a woman on Steering Street whose son has a competition in a week. And also a construction worker who comes home exhausted and barely have time to cultivate."

She placed the second container beside the first.

"None of them can afford Nexus cores, but a Grade One Enchanted Meal that costs 6000 dollars that increases their cultivation speed is within their means.

Dexter was surprised by Tessa’s intelligence and nodded his head.

Dexter rolled his eyes.

"You’re pretty smart for one so young." he said as he turned around to leave.

Tessa’s lips curled upward. "Oh, I’m young, am I? I look really young, don’t I?"

Dexter glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Obviously."

Then he stopped and raised an eyebrow rose.

"Why aren’t you in school today?"

He paused for a beat then chuckled.

"Forget it. I know you’ll give another excuse again."

Tessa’s innocent smile widened until her dimples showed. "I actually have a really good excuse this time. Don’t you want to hear it?"

Dexter held up a hand. "Save it. I’m good."

Tessa chuckled behind him as he pushed open the bakery door and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

He waved once without turning around. "Bye, Tessa. Thanks."

"Bye, Dexter! Good luck!"

---

Dexter had intended to greet Mr. Henry before leaving, but the man hadn’t been in the shop. Only Tessa and a couple of part-time helpers were behind the counter. He figured Mr. Henry must have stepped out for something and decided not to linger.

But as it turned out, he didn’t have to wait long.

He was halfway when he saw a familiar broad-shouldered figure walking toward the bakery from the opposite direction. Mr. Henry was carrying holding a large bag in his grip.

The man’s face was expressionless as always.

Dexter stopped and waited.

When Mr. Henry’s eyes landed on him, recognition flickered in his eyes and he spoke.

"I assume you came to drop off the Arcane Meals."

Dexter nodded. "Yes, twenty portions. Tessa’s already got them in the display case."

Mr. Henry studied him for a moment then smiled.

"Alright. Let’s see how today goes."

Dexter smiled and produced a single container from his spatial storage. He held it out to Mr. Henry with both hands.

"This is for you."

Mr. Henry blinked as he looked at the container, then at Dexter.

"For me?"

Dexter nodded. "Yeah. This is my way of showing appreciation for letting me sell the food at your place."

Mr. Henry stared at him for a long moment. Then a low chuckle rumbled from his chest.

"You’re quite the schemer, aren’t you?"

Dexter smiled innocently. "I have no idea what you’re talking about."

Mr. Henry shook his head, still chuckling as he took the container with his free hand.

"Forget it."

"Thank you, sir," Dexter replied, stepping aside to let the man pass.

Mr. Henry walked past him and pushed open the bakery door. Before it closed behind him, Dexter caught one last glimpse of the man shaking his head with a quiet grin.

He understood exactly why Mr. Henry had called him a schemer. And the man wasn’t wrong.

The truth was that they had never discussed profit sharing. When Tessa had proposed the arrangement, she had talked about selling his meals in the bakery. She hadn’t mentioned a commission.

And in the absence of an explicit agreement, the default assumption in any business relationship was that the seller took a cut. Ten percent, twenty percent, thirty percent of whatever the market bore.

If the meals sold well, Mr. Henry would naturally expect a portion of the profits for providing the storefront, the customer base, and the display space. And he would have been entirely justified in asking for it.

But by giving Mr. Henry a free meal, thanking him for letting him sell his stuffs in his bakery for free, Dexter had created an unspoken agreement and accepting a gift created obligation. By accepting the container, Mr. Henry had implicitly accepted the terms that Dexter had set without ever stating them aloud.

No commission or profit sharing.

The bakery would sell his food for free. Dexter would keep every credit.

Dexter had spent 19 years in the Ashford estate. He had been cheated, shortchanged, manipulated, and exploited by servants, strangers and mostly relatives and had learnt a thing or two.

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