24: Chapter 24 New Product Development

Since being with Minji, Chairman Wang Shunyi felt his whole person had relaxed a bit.

It wasn't that the workload had decreased—on the contrary, GS25 had just expanded to 800 stores, the CU negotiations had entered the final stage, and the factory's two lines were running continuously; every time he opened his eyes, a pile of things awaited his decision.

But returning to the office at night, with her messages in his phone, even if it was just a "Have you eaten?", he felt that the day hadn't been spent in vain.

The Monday morning staff meeting was fully attended.

Jun-ho sat in the middle of the long table, next to Kim Mi-young, Park Jung-hoon, Lee Soo-yeon, Kim Dong-xu, and a young salesperson recently poached from GS25 named Choi Subin.

Minji also came, sitting to Chairman Wang Shunyi's left, her notebook spread out before her, drawing something on the paper with a pencil.

Jun-ho spoke first.

He projected the previous month's sales data onto the whiteboard, with two lines, one blue and one red; blue for fire chicken noodles, red for river snail rice noodles.

"The month-on-month growth of fire chicken noodles has dropped from twelve percent last month to six percent this month."

He pointed at the line with his pen tip, "It's not that they aren't selling, it's that the people who wanted to try them have already bought them."

"The repurchase rate is still there, but growth from new customers has slowed."

Chairman Wang Shunyi leaned back in his chair, not rushing to speak.

Jun-ho had been with him for almost a year, and his eye for data was sharper than his own.

"What about river snail rice noodles?" Kim Mi-young asked.

"river snail rice noodles are actually rising, with a month-on-month growth of fifteen percent."

"But the base is small, so no matter how fast it grows, it can't support the overall market."

Jun-ho flipped a page, "My point is, our product line is too thin."

"fire chicken noodles, river snail rice noodles, self-heating pots—just these three."

"Although Chan-hyeok's product quality isn't as good as ours, he is cheap and his channels are solid."

"Over time, those price-sensitive customers will be drawn away by him."

The conference room was quiet for two seconds.

Park Jung-hoon sat in the corner, hands crossed on the table, saying nothing.

He was an old hand on the production line and rarely spoke at meetings unless asked about equipment.

"Jun-ho, what are your thoughts?" Chairman Wang Shunyi asked.

Jun-ho pulled a few sheets of paper from his folder and distributed them to everyone present.

Printed on them were several pie charts and keywords: health food market, local specialty foods, instant porridge and soup.

"I asked Xiuyan to help check last year's report from the Korea Food Research Institute."

"The health food market is eight trillion won a year, with a year-on-year growth of fifteen percent."

"The search volume for keywords like 'low-calorie', 'low-fat', and 'high-protein' has doubled compared to the year before last."

Xiuyan took over: "I also did a simple survey on social media, asking one hundred women aged twenty to thirty, 'Why don't you eat instant noodles often?', and the number one answer was—afraid of getting fat."

"So," Jun-ho placed his pen on the table, "Can we make a healthy instant noodle?"

"Low-calorie, low-oil, high-protein, so those who want to eat but don't dare to can eat without burden."

Chairman Wang Shunyi turned his head to look at Minji.

She was looking down, writing something in her notebook, and sensing his gaze, she looked up and nodded slightly.

"I agree with the health direction." Minji put down her pen.

"Local specialties and instant porridge/soup have low barriers to entry; anyone can do them."

"But health foods require formulas and technology, which are not easy to copy."

"And—the brand premium is higher."

"What specific product should we make?" Kim Mi-young asked.

Chairman Wang Shunyi stood up and walked to the whiteboard.

The sales curve from last week was still on the whiteboard, so he wiped off a section with the eraser, picked up a black pen, and wrote a few keywords.

"Low-calorie, no more than two hundred calories per serving. Low oil and salt, sodium content reduced by over thirty percent. High protein, at least fifteen grams of protein per serving. Dietary fiber, at least five grams. Use whole wheat or mixed grains for the noodles."

He finished writing, turned around, and looked at everyone.

"This is the direction. As for how to specifically achieve it, I'll figure out a way."

Over the next few weeks, Chairman Wang Shunyi spent all his time after work in the company's small kitchen.

Calling it a kitchen was actually just a small room partitioned off next to the warehouse, with a stove, sink, and a few stainless steel countertops.

It used to be where Park Jung-hoon heated his lunch, but it was later requisitioned by him.

The countertops were piled high with various powders and additives, handwritten recipe sheets were taped to the walls, and a stack of taste-test feedback forms was held together by rubber bands.

He retrieved several low-calorie instant noodle formulas from parallel worlds from his storage space.

Whole wheat, mixed grain, konjac—he tried them one by one.

The texture of the whole wheat noodles was too coarse, chewing like sawdust.

The mixed grain ones were better, but the calorie reduction wasn't enough.

The konjac ones had the lowest calories, only about 150 calories per serving, but the texture was slippery, and when bitten, it was squeaky, completely different from normal noodles.

The first time he made konjac noodles, he took a bite and spat it out.

It wasn't that it tasted bad, it was just strange.

That texture was like chewing rubber bands, and paired with the fire chicken noodle spicy sauce, it was spicy, sure, but he always felt something was wrong.

He had Park Jung-hoon taste it.

Park Jung-hoon chewed twice, his expression complex, and after a long time, he squeezed out a sentence: "President, this... doesn't really taste like noodles."

"I know."

He readjusted the proportions.

A bit more konjac powder, and the texture was too tough; a bit more sweet potato starch, and the calories went up.

By the seventeenth attempt, he found a balance point—seven parts konjac powder to three parts sweet potato starch, plus a little bit of plant gum.

The boiled noodles had a texture close to 70-80% of normal noodles; although still a bit chewy, at least they didn't feel like rubber bands.

That night, he had Minji come to taste test.

She sat on the high stool in the kitchen, took the bowl he handed over, picked up a chopstick full and put it in her mouth, chewed a few times, said nothing, and then picked up another chopstick.

"How is it?" He stood by the stove, flour on his apron.

"It's okay." She swallowed, drank some water, "Compared to regular fire chicken noodles, the texture is a bit lacking, but it's acceptable."

"It has a good chew, and it's quite satisfying to eat."

"How about the spiciness?"

"No need to change the spicy sauce. It's already very good."

He let out a sigh of relief and finalized the formula on the whiteboard.

After the sample was confirmed, it was a matter of production.

Jun-ho ran to several equipment factories and finally chose a small-to-medium-sized manufacturer in Gyeonggi-do, a semi-automatic line specifically for konjac products.

The price was 28 million, two million lower than the budget.

Delivery time was three weeks.

On the day the equipment was installed, Chairman Wang Shunyi arrived at the factory early in the morning.

Park Jung-hoon brought two technicians to debug it with the equipment factory's engineers.

The production process for konjac noodles is different from regular noodles—not steamed or fried, but solidified and molded.

The machine hummed for a long time, and when the first batch of noodles slid out of the outlet, Park Jung-hoon reached out to catch them, looked at them over and over, and then held them to his nose to smell.

"President, come and taste." He broke off a small piece of the noodle.

Chairman Wang Shunyi chewed it; it was similar to the sample he made in the small kitchen.

He nodded and said to Park Jung-hoon: "Jung-hoon, you keep an eye on this line. The output doesn't need to be too high; stabilize the quality first."

"Understood."

The packaging design was done by Minji leading Lee Ji-eun.

Ji-eun produced three versions: the first was red and white, too similar to regular fire chicken noodles; the second was blue, too cold; the third was green and white, simple and clean, with the words "Light Spicy fire chicken noodles" printed on the front, a green leaf icon in the bottom right corner, and "Only 150 calories per serving" written next to it.

The back had the nutritional facts table, and underneath was a line of small print: "Let deliciousness no longer be a burden."

Chairman Wang Shunyi looked at the third version and said without much thought: "Just this one."

On the day of the launch, it was first put on the online store, and at the same time, one hundred GS25 stores in the Seoul area were selected for trial sales.

The price was set at 2,500 won.

It was 500 won more expensive than regular fire chicken noodles and 1,300 won more expensive than canhe spicy chicken noodles.

When pricing, Jun-ho was worried, asking if it would be too expensive.

Minji said: "Healthy food should be expensive. People who buy this don't care about those few hundred won."

On the first day it went on sale, the order notification sound in the online store backend rang from 8:00 AM to 11:00 PM.

Lee Eun-bi turned off the notification once, then turned it back on, saying she wouldn't know when orders came in if she turned it off.

Out of the one hundred trial stores, more than thirty called to urge for restocking by the third day.

In the comment section, there were unexpectedly many messages from buyers.

"Finally, there are low-calorie instant noodles! I can eat them while dieting, I'm moved to tears."

"The texture is a bit different from normal noodles, but I got used to it after eating a few times. The spiciness is great, and there's no guilt after eating."

"Konjac noodles are a good thing to begin with; paired with the fire chicken noodle spicy sauce, it's a perfect match. I've already repurchased three times."

There were also dissatisfied people.

Some said "It's too expensive, regular fire chicken noodles are only 2,000, this one is 2,500", and some said "The texture is still weird, not as good as eating normal noodles."

But the rate of negative reviews wasn't high, about seven or eight out of every hundred.

A month later, Jun-ho organized the data.

The monthly sales of Light Spicy fire chicken noodles were 23 million, with a repurchase rate ten percentage points higher than regular fire chicken noodles.

What surprised Chairman Wang Shunyi the most was the consumer profile—70% were women aged 25 to 35, a demographic that had basically never bought regular fire chicken noodles before.

"New customer base." Jun-ho pointed at the data, "These people didn't buy our stuff before, but now they do. This shows that Light Spicy fire chicken noodles isn't stealing customers from regular fire chicken noodles, but expanding the market."

Chairman Wang Shunyi nodded and didn't speak.

He was thinking about something else—if the healthy version could expand the customer base, what about other directions?

Low-sodium version? Kids' version? Region-limited version?

Once this line of thinking was opened, it was like the conveyor belt on the production line; once it started turning, it couldn't be stopped.

That night, he and Minji were eating at a small restaurant near the company.

The army stew was bubbling, and she picked up a piece of luncheon meat and put it in his bowl.

"What are you thinking about? You haven't said much all night."

"Thinking about new products." He took the luncheon meat and took a bite, "Light Spicy is selling well, I'm thinking about what to do next."

"No rush, stabilize this one first. Being too greedy will lead to indigestion."

She picked up a piece of rice cake for herself, paused, "But your line of thinking is correct—you can't rely on just one product to conquer the world."

He looked at her and smiled.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing." He lowered his head to drink the soup, "Just think it's nice to have someone giving advice on the side."

She swallowed the rice cake, didn't answer, and the corners of her mouth curved slightly.

After eating and coming out, the night wind in Seoul was a bit chilly.

She shrank her neck, and he took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

The two walked slowly along the roadside, neither speaking.

The GS25 on the street was brightly lit, and through the glass, one could see the row of green packaging on the shelf.

Someone was bending over in front of the shelf taking things; the face couldn't be seen, only a hand, reaching towards that splash of green.

Chairman Wang Shunyi took a look, withdrew his gaze, put his hands in his pockets, and continued walking forward.

Minji walked on his right, her pace neither fast nor slow, her shoulder occasionally touching his arm.

He thought, the road is still long, walk slowly.