A large yellow square was painted on the paper with a brush, allowed to dry slightly, and then a slightly rounded, large red “W” was drawn on it.
Wayne turned the draft around on the table and pushed it across, “What do you think of this logo?”
In a corner of the bar hall, which was currently being cleaned, the three partners gathered around a table, with several Agents curiously craning their necks nearby.
It wasn’t a secret anyway, so they could listen if they wanted to.
Inessa examined it for a few moments: “It’s very simple, and the color scheme and style are quite eye-catching… I have no objections.”
Lina seemed ready to approve it at first, but then she thought about it and felt something was off:
“Why is it ‘Wayne’ again? Usually, people use the first letter of their last name, so shouldn’t yours be a ‘C’? And since the Detective Agency already uses your name, shouldn’t it be Inessa’s or my turn this time?”
“It could be… but I think this logo is quite suitable.”
The name didn’t really matter; Wayne simply drew inspiration from a market-tested logo, his playful desire to “make things happen” outweighing any strong attachment.
However, after a brief thought, he immediately planned to ban Lina first, “I remember your current last name was just made up, wasn’t it? Are you really planning to keep using someone else’s last name?”
Lina’s current last name was “Kyle,” with the first letter “K.” Wayne felt it should be kept for now; if he wanted to open a fried chicken restaurant in the future, he thought it would be more fitting to use it then.
“Hmm… you’re right.” Lina seemed to be just casually arguing. “Otherwise, Inessa’s last name would work too.”
“Do you want to hear what you’re saying? The first letter of Winslet is still ‘W,’ isn’t it?”
“The name is different. Winslet Restaurant, that name just sounds like…”
“…” × 3
If it were other products, it would be fine, but adding a Windsor-style last name before “Restaurant” made it sound like a place that sold dark cuisine…
It felt like a place where “boiled potatoes, not even peeled, could be served as a dish to guests.”
Inessa was the first to express her resistance, “Although I don’t really care about the shop name, it’s best to change it…”
“Alright. Thinking about it this way, I suddenly feel that ‘Wayne Restaurant’ seems acceptable too.”
Lina thought for a moment and added, “But if we open a hotel in the future, the logo must use ‘L,’ and I want to be the sole major shareholder then.”
Instead, Wayne was slightly puzzled, “I didn’t plan to use my own name in the first place… It was Lina who first assumed it was ‘Wayne.’”
The appearance of this logo was just Wayne’s personal mischievousness; there were countless letter-designed logos in America, and even for “W,” a wide variety could be found.
According to the plan, the fast-food restaurant would open alongside the Detective Agency’s offices in various locations in the future. Even if there was no business, it could be used as a cafeteria. Although the shareholders’ identities were not a secret, there was no need to publicize them too obviously, lest bad guys smash them just by seeing the name.
“Ah? Then what is your ‘W’ for?”
“It’s for ‘West.’ Since hamburgers and hot dogs are Kankakee cuisine, it should naturally be called ‘West Restaurant.’”
…
At this time, only a few days had passed since the previous bar closed. The original bar owner had transformed from a “small boss” into an “employee,” and was now considered a “candidate for acting manager” of this fast-food restaurant.
This guy was also a down-to-earth person. After the initial employment intention was settled, he even moved some of the bar’s previous glasses, kitchenware, and tableware back. The Agents tidied up the kitchen, which provisionally solved the hardware problem for eating.
However, for the new shop to open, the storefront still needed to be renovated. The bar was geared towards night operation and didn’t care much about lighting, but the overall style didn’t quite match the bright fast-food restaurants Wayne had in mind.
As the first demonstration store, Wayne planned to make the outer wall largely glass, combined with a red and yellow dopamine color scheme, which would be quite “eye-catching” in this era—unfortunately, large sheets of glass were ridiculously expensive, so for now, they could only be assembled like windows, using the thinnest possible wooden frames in grids, with space left outside to insert wooden boards to seal and protect the glass when needed.
The funding issue was relatively easier to handle. The 30,000 American dollars Lina had obtained from selling that “evil god mirror” to a rich person had barely been touched. He would directly transfer 10,000 American dollars from the Detective Agency’s fund pool as a reserve, and with Mr. Russell’s investment, opening several more stores would be more than enough.
However, the issue of share allocation for the fast-food restaurant was relatively more troublesome. Wayne tried to solve it with a relatively hassle-free solution:
“Daily operational and decision-making power must certainly remain in our hands. Shares will have different rights, but we can be flexible with the dividend distribution ratio. We’ll convert Mr. Russell’s total investment into 49% of the total shares of this store, the Detective Agency will contribute an additional 30% in cash proportionally, and the remaining 21% will be considered our technical investment. Later, we can consider selling it to other investors or stakeholders, with a portion reserved for sales incentives. What do you all think?”
Unlike the Detective Agency, which had to concentrate shares in the hands of “partners,” Wayne hoped that the majority of the fast-food restaurant’s shares would be held by others, preferably local “bigwigs.”
This way, if more stores opened in the future, each store would have “locals” helping to provide protection, so that the Detective Agency wouldn’t be too busy running around and unable to cope when troubles arose, and the Detective Agency’s main business could also have more local friends secretly assisting.
Sales incentives were based on the same principle; constantly supervising others’ work was more costly. It was better to give up a portion of the profits and then conduct regular assessments, as control was key—Wayne wasn’t an expert in some matters, but he believed that if certain practices were adopted as common management conventions in modern society, then at least imitating them formally would likely earn a passing grade.
This store would be used for a trial run for now, and later, it would likely focus on “franchising.” If it developed well, then they would consider opening a few directly operated flagship stores.
The Detective Agency, as a whole, would take back the profits from the fast-food restaurant and then distribute them proportionally, so that the shares wouldn’t be too complicated to calculate. Wayne and Chef Parker, as the “inventors” and “improvers” of the dishes, would internally deduct a portion of the money as a “buyout” for the recipes, and then it would be normal dividend distribution.
If anyone else came up with suitable new dishes in the future, they could also consider buying out the recipes, and discuss the specifics later.
Lina was initially a bit unconvinced, thinking that Wayne had never run a restaurant, and this model didn’t sound like the usual way of opening a store at that time.
Then she was quickly left dumbfounded.
“Is there something wrong with this menu you made? A half-pound patty burger for 12 cents, a drink for 2 cents, a serving of fries for 3 cents, plus a 5-cent grilled sausage, and then all these together, the combo only sells for 19 cents?!”
“I calculated this precisely, alright? The average weekly wage for the working class is about 7 to 8 American dollars. Assuming they spend 30% of it on food, a single man’s main meal expense would be at most 17 cents. It can’t be too expensive. Otherwise, even the clerks and shop assistants wouldn’t be able to afford it.”
“But your pricing isn’t cheap either. Forget 3 cents, I can buy so many potatoes for 1 cent.”
“You just said my combo was very affordable. If you were to choose, wouldn’t my fries already be included and sold within the combo?”
“Hiss… that seems to make some sense. But a pound of beef in Richmond is 18 cents now. Your half-pound patty burger also has cheese. Will you still make a profit?”
“Then why else would I have Parker research regenerated cheese? It’s to lower costs. The same goes for meat patties and sausages. For flavor, we can add other ingredients; it doesn’t all have to be meat, and cheaper cuts can be used. Unless it doesn’t sell, we won’t lose money.”
“Wow, you cunning merchant. But why do your combo prices look so strange? They’re all 19 cents, 29 cents, 39 cents, and so on.”
“Shh! This is the most crucial business secret. Let me tell you, in the future, the prices of your big hotel’s suites and meals should also end in ‘9’ or ‘8.’ Just telling you this secret is worth me getting shares in your big hotel for free.”
“Is it really that magical?” Lina looked suspicious but quickly pulled out a small notebook and started writing notes.
By now, a line of eavesdropping Agents had gathered around. The “former bar owner,” now the “candidate for acting manager,” was nodding repeatedly after listening:
“Although there are some things I still haven’t figured out, Mr. Wayne’s business acumen is truly admirable.”
What’s this? I haven’t even told you that fast-food restaurants might all have “unified ordering” in the future.
At that time, the profits from the procurement of semi-finished ingredients and sauces won’t belong to the fast-food restaurant.
