The dining table at Sarah Mason's house was requisitioned once again, but this time it wasn't for packaging—it was for counting money.
Five, ten, and twenty-dollar bills were piled into a messy little mountain.
This was because most of the transactions were cash deals with Nurses and patients' families.
Sarah's hands shook as she counted.
"Twenty-three thousand... twenty-three thousand five hundred..."
Only after counting it three times did she finally look up, her eyes somewhat glazed as she stared at Alice, who was drinking coffee on the sofa.
"Alice, do you know what my after-tax annual salary is as a senior Nurse? It's fifty-eight thousand dollars. Now, in just a few days, we've earned half a year's wages."
The massive sense of disparity made Sarah feel a bit surreal, but it was immediately followed by endless euphoria.
"Alice, we've really struck it rich. At this rate, as long as we expand production and fill that factory, we could earn over a hundred thousand a month. We should go buy some of those automatic filling machines."
"We can't expand production." Alice, holding a complex chemical analysis report, poured a bucket of cold water over her enthusiasm.
"What? Why?" Sarah was stunned. "Everyone is scrambling to get it."
"If it were the formula for the first-generation ordinary moisturizing hand cream—the one I first made in the kitchen—expanding production would be no problem. But this highly effective second-generation product, the Red and White Umbrella, has a core competitiveness: the T-1 active enzyme. Current extraction technology can only achieve limited amplification from samples."
Alice pointed to the report.
"Until I make a breakthrough in cell cloning technology, the enzyme yield is locked. With our current inventory, if we continue to sell this large-capacity hand cream openly, the raw materials will be exhausted in two weeks at most."
"Then what do we do? Just not make the money?" Sarah grew anxious.
"Who said we won't make money?" Alice pulled a new procurement list from a drawer. "We need to make two-pronged preparations."
"First, expand the production capacity of the first-generation hand cream. I've already ordered two new automatic filling lines, which will be delivered to the factory's Sector One tomorrow. I'll hire a few more workers to specifically produce this basic hand cream that doesn't contain the T-1 enzyme, only ordinary aloe extract and Vitamin E."
"While the effect isn't as miraculous as the second generation, with Umbrella Corporation's current reputation, it will still sell. It's more than enough to maintain cash flow and market share."
"Second, for products containing the T-1 enzyme, we must implement strict grading and production cuts."
Alice stood up, walked to the table, and picked up a bottle of the second-generation Red and White Umbrella hand cream.
"One bottle of second-generation hand cream consumes 1 milliliter of stock solution and sells for 20 dollars, with a profit of only 15 dollars. This is a serious waste."
She then picked up an exquisite small bottle from the side.
Unlike the previous frosted glass bottles, these bottles were smaller and more refined, with a deep cobalt blue body and a cold silver metal cap.
The logo was still the red and white protective Umbrella Corporation, but the text beneath it had changed.
[Umbrella Corporation Bio-Tech: T-Virus Anti-Aging Serum]
Of course, the 'T' here stood for Time—at least, that was how Alice intended to explain it to the public when selling it.
"People think the second-generation hand cream is a great value at twenty dollars because it truly is. So, I've decided to put it into this bottle, declare it a facial anti-aging serum, and sell it for five hundred dollars. Aunt Sarah, human vanity and the fear of aging are the most profitable mines in this World."
"But... is the formula the same?" Sarah asked cautiously.
"The core enzyme is the same, but I've adjusted the base, removing the heavy glycerin and adding Squalane extracted from deep-sea fish oil, as well as small-molecule Hyaluronic acid. I also added a bit of mica powder to create an optical illusion of instant brightening when applied to the face—commonly known as the 'noble lady glow.'"
Ai Haibara's card hadn't just granted her scientific research capabilities; it had also given her a cold, calculating wisdom to see through human nature.
Alice looked at Sarah and analyzed calmly.
"For the same consumption of raw materials, one earns 20 dollars in revenue while the other earns 500 dollars. Therefore, Aunt Sarah, we shouldn't expand the production of the second-generation hand cream. Instead, we should turn it into a limited-supply 'lead' product to maintain word-of-mouth and hype, and then divert all core materials to the essence, creating a truly high-end, high-profit product."
Just then, Sarah's phone rang.
Caller ID: Doctor Williams.
"Answer it, put it on speaker," Alice signaled.
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