My Food Stall Serves SSS-Grade Delicacies!-Chapter 217: The Pros of Having an Earth-Born Friend

"I ran a food cart on Earth for three years before I came here," Jenny said. "Small business management isn’t new to me. Just had to translate the concepts to Savoria’s systems." She refilled both their glasses. "So. Are you in?"

"I have questions first," Marron said. She pulled out a clean sheet of paper, started making notes. "Training schedule—how long does it take to teach both products?"

"Two days," Jenny said. "Day one is carbonation method and soda flavoring. Day two is crisp technique and seasoning blends. We teach them together so they understand how the products complement each other."

"And we’re teaching together?" Marron asked. "Or splitting up?"

"Together for the first few rounds," Jenny said. "Once we have the training process refined, we can split up to scale faster. But initially, I think we should co-teach. Makes sure we’re presenting a unified approach."

"Cost of training?" Marron asked. "Are we charging separately for that?"

"Twenty copper per vendor for the two-day training," Jenny said. "Covers our time and the practice ingredients they’ll use during learning. After that, they’re on their own except for monthly check-ins."

"Which we’re doing for free?" Marron asked. "As part of the licensing fee?"

"Exactly. The licensing fee covers our ongoing support, quality checks, and access to our supplier network. They’re paying for the system, not just the recipes."

Marron made more notes. "What about recipe modifications? If a vendor wants to experiment with new flavors or techniques?"

"Encouraged," Jenny said immediately. "As long as they maintain our base standards. If they develop something good, we might even add it to our official offerings and give them credit. Creates investment in the franchise success."

"And if they want to stop? Cancel their franchise?"

"Thirty-day notice, no penalties," Jenny said. "We’re not trying to trap people. If it’s not working for them, they can leave. They just can’t keep using our exact recipes and methods—that’s in the contract."

"Enforcement?" Marron asked. "How do we stop someone from just teaching our methods to their friends?"

Jenny grimaced. "Honestly? We can’t, not completely. But we can make it socially and economically disadvantageous. If they break contract, we revoke their supplier discounts, we spread word through the vendor network that they’re untrustworthy, we make it clear that breaking agreements has consequences." She paused. "It’s not perfect. But we’re working in a community-based market. Reputation matters. Most vendors won’t risk their standing for a few copper."

That was probably as good as they could get without expensive legal enforcement. Marron made a note about it anyway—something to think about as they scaled.

"Liability," Marron said. "If a franchised vendor causes food poisoning or has a health issue, who’s responsible?"

"Them," Jenny said firmly. "That’s in the contract explicitly. We provide training and standards, but they’re independent operators. They’re responsible for their own food safety, their own customer service, their own business practices. We’re licensors, not partners."

"But if there’s a widespread problem—like contaminated ingredients from one of our approved suppliers—"

"Then we all deal with it together," Jenny said. "But that’s a ’crossing bridges when we come to them’ situation. We can’t plan for every possible disaster."

Fair enough. Marron reviewed her notes, checking for gaps. "What about our own cart operations? Are we still working our individual carts alongside the franchise?"

"Absolutely," Jenny said. "The franchise is passive income, not replacement income. At least not initially. We keep working our own carts, keep building our own businesses. The franchise just supplements and scales our reach."

"And if one of us wants to stop cart work eventually?" Marron asked. "Focus on other things?"

"The franchise continues," Jenny said. "We split management responsibilities, adjust our involvement as needed. The system should be robust enough to run without requiring both of us constantly present." She met Marron’s eyes. "I know you’re hunting Legendary Tools. I know that might take you away from Lumeria sometimes. This franchise model is designed to give you income even when you’re not actively working the cart."

That... was exactly what Marron needed. The decree crisis had shown her how vulnerable she was when focused on one thing. She needed sustainable income that didn’t require her constant presence.

"Okay," Marron said slowly. "I think I’m in. But I want to start small—maybe two or three franchisees initially. Test the system, work out the kinks, make sure the training and quality control actually function before we scale up."

"Agreed," Jenny said immediately. "I’ve already got two vendors interested—both approached me after seeing our cart success. One wants to add crisps and soda to their existing pastry cart. Another is a new vendor wanting to start with our products from day one."

"And the third?"

"Your friend Arrow," Jenny said. "The owl-kin bread vendor. She approached me yesterday, asked if she could add crisps to her offerings. Said you’d saved her business during the decree crisis and she wanted to support your expansion."

Marron felt warmth spread through her chest. Arrow. Quiet, anxious Arrow who made beautiful bread and had nearly lost everything. Now wanting to be part of this franchise, to build something together.

"Then Arrow’s definitely in," Marron said. "So we train three vendors, see how it goes, adjust our approach based on what we learn."

"Perfect." Jenny raised her glass. "To the Earth Food Franchise Network. May it make us just enough money to not worry constantly."

"I’ll drink to that," Marron said, clinking glasses.

They drank, reviewed the contracts one more time, made minor adjustments to language, and agreed on a training schedule. First session would be in four days—enough time to prepare training materials and source practice ingredients.

"There’s one more thing," Jenny said as she was packing up her papers. She pulled out a small notebook, more worn than the others. "This is personal, not business. But I’ve been keeping records of Earth people I’ve met in Savoria."

Marron’s attention sharpened. "How many?"

"Seventeen confirmed," Jenny said. "Just people I’ve run into over twelve years who mentioned Earth or recognized Earth foods or had that specific confused nostalgia that only displaced people have."

She handed Marron the notebook. "Their names, what districts they’re in, what they’re doing. Some have moved on or disappeared. But I thought... maybe you’d want to know. That there are others."