89: Chapter 89 Dragon Kingdom Market Reflection

In mid-August, the summer heat in Seoul was stifling and irritating. In the conference room of the International Business Department at Sunyi Foods headquarters, even the strongest air conditioning couldn't suppress the sweat on Kim Sang-woo's forehead.

He stood before the projection screen, the remote in his hand creaking from his grip. Behind him was a dense sales chart—red for Tmall, blue for Jingdong. Both lines had spiked starting August 5th, leveled off by the 7th, and crawled like snails for the following days.

Chairman Wang Shunyi sat at the head of the table. Spread before him were two reports: one on sales data and one a summary of consumer reviews. He flipped open the sales data without looking up.

"Go ahead."

Kim Sang-woo swallowed and pointed his laser pointer at the peak of the red line on the screen.

"Ten days since opening, Tmall's cumulative sales are 4.2 million RMB, and JD's are 2.8 million, totaling 7 million RMB—roughly 1.12 billion Korean Won. The daily average is 700,000. The promotional heat from opening day has faded, but it hasn't dropped below the baseline; it's relatively stable."

"What about the breakdown of each product?"

Kim Sang-woo switched to the next chart. A colorful pie chart showed that classic fire chicken noodles held the largest slice at 38%. low-calorie fire noodles were at 22%, Korean bibimbap at 18%, rice wine at 12%, while low-sodium and high-protein combined for 10%.

"Classic fire chicken noodles remain the mainstay. The performance of low-calorie noodles is better than expected, indicating that Chinese consumers' demand for healthy food is rising. The rice wine isn't doing great; awareness is low, and many people don't know what it is. Low-sodium and high-protein are in the testing phase with fewer buyers, but the repurchase rate is high—those who buy them think they're great. The problem is that no one knows about them."

Chairman Wang Shunyi jotted down a few numbers in his notebook and flipped to the consumer review summary. Kim Sang-woo's sweat intensified as he quickly switched to another page.

"The positive rating is 92%. Negative reviews are concentrated in these categories: expensive price, slow logistics, and flavors not being local enough."

He pulled out a few typical negative reviews and read them aloud.

"'The price is too high, how much does it even cost in Korea?'"

"'It took a week to arrive, and the noodles were all crushed.'"

"'It tastes good, but when will they release a Mala flavor?'"

Chairman Wang Shunyi looked up at Kim Sang-woo. "What do you think?"

Kim Sang-woo thought for a moment. "The high price is a fact, but our costs are what they are; we can't bring them down. The slow logistics can be solved by building local warehouses, which can be implemented as early as next month. As for the flavors not being local enough..."

He paused.

"The R&D team is already working on Mala and Hot and Sour flavors. Samples will be ready in two weeks at the earliest."

"Compared to local Chinese brands, what is our advantage?"

"Taste. Master Kong and Uni-President products have serious homogenization; it's always the same few flavors. Our fire chicken noodles have high brand recognition—once consumers remember them, they won't forget. Furthermore, concepts like low-calorie, low-sodium, and high-protein aren't being offered by local Chinese brands yet. This is our opportunity."

Chairman Wang Shunyi closed the report and leaned back in his chair. None of the three men across the table—Kim Sang-woo, Lee Jung-hoon, and Kim Tae-ho—dared to make a sound.

Kim Sang-woo's laser pointer was still on, the red dot flickering on the screen; he quickly turned it off.

"Regarding the local warehouses, Kim Sang-woo, you take the lead. Negotiate with both Cainiao and JD Logistics. Use whoever offers lower quotes and wider coverage. Get it implemented within a month."

Chairman Wang Shunyi's gaze turned to Kim Tae-ho. "Mala and Hot and Sour flavors—samples in two weeks. Not 'two weeks at the earliest,' but 'two weeks.' If you're a day late, you'll answer for it." Kim Tae-ho's lip twitched, but he didn't dare say anything else, lowering his head to take notes.

"For the low-sodium and high-protein versions, print VIVID's photo on the packaging to distinguish them from the regular versions. Promote them on social media first; don't push them through physical channels yet. Expand once the word-of-mouth builds up."

Lee Jung-hoon nodded like a woodpecker, his fingers flying across his notebook as he took notes.

Kim Young-jun chimed in quietly from the side.

"Jun-hyeok-xi has contacted several logistics providers, but the quotes aren't all in yet. I'll follow up."

Chairman Wang Shunyi said, "Ah, Jun-hyeok. Yes, follow up."

Then he stood up, his chair legs scraping harshly against the floor.

As he walked out of the conference room, Kim Sang-woo opened his mouth to ask something but didn't dare.

It was after 6:00 PM, and the sun was still in the sky. Chairman Wang Shunyi changed into a light jacket and walked to a nearby convenience store instead of driving.

He bought a can of coffee and a pack of low-calorie fire noodles. The clerk gave him an extra look during checkout but didn't recognize him.

He found a seat by the window and prepared the noodles. Three minutes later, steam rose from the paper bowl, carrying a sharp, spicy aroma.

He opened his phone and went to Weibo. He typed "fire chicken noodles" into the search bar. The first result wasn't Sunyi's, but the Samyang fire chicken noodle challenge, which had over a hundred thousand likes.

He scrolled down several pages before seeing a post about Sunyi.

"Sunyi low-calorie fire noodles are actually low in calories, and the taste isn't compromised." It had over two thousand likes.

The second one: "Price is a bit high, but delicious," with fewer than a thousand likes.

The third was a complaint: "Waited a week, and half the noodles were crushed," which actually had over three thousand likes.

He didn't finish reading. He flipped his phone face down on the table, picked up his chopsticks, and lifted the noodles. The spiciness exploded on the tip of his tongue.

He remembered the night he first ate fire chicken noodles a few years ago. It wasn't Sunyi's; it was a replica from the Parallel World System.

Back then, he thought replicating a few packs of noodles to sell online could change his destiny. Now, the noodles were being sold in China and Southeast Asia, tens of millions of packs a year. Yet here he was, sitting in a corner of a convenience store eating noodles alone, not much different from a few years ago.

With only a mouthful of soup left at the bottom of the bowl, he tipped it back and drank it dry. He threw the bowl into the trash and left the convenience store.

The streetlights had just come on, casting a dim yellow glow. People on the street were in a hurry, and no one noticed him.

He walked back to the company alone. The elevator took him to the 12th floor, where all the office lights were off.

He didn't turn on the lights but sat in his chair. Outside the window, Seoul spread out in the darkness, a dense tapestry of lights extending into the distance.

He opened his notebook and wrote a few lines.

Local warehouses: implemented by end of September.

Mala and Hot and Sour flavors: samples out by end of August.

Low-sodium and high-protein: change packaging, promote in September.

Logistics cost optimization: completed in September.

After finishing, he closed the notebook and took a sample pack of low-sodium bibimbap from a drawer. It didn't have VIVID's photo on it yet; it was clean, with green text on a white background.

He opened it, added water according to the instructions, and microwaved it for two minutes. He took it out, stirred it, and took a bite. The saltiness was very light, but the aroma of the rice remained.

He ate half the container, covered the rest, and put it back in the drawer. He stood up, turned off the light, and walked out. The motion-sensor lights in the hallway flickered on and off. His footsteps echoed in the empty corridor, one by one, as if someone were counting the beat for him.

The elevator descended to the parking lot, and the sound of the car starting was low and deep.

As he drove out of the underground garage, the light from Namsan Tower flashed across his rearview mirror, but he didn't look.

His grip on the steering wheel was steady, and the road ahead was illuminated for a short stretch by the headlights.

He couldn't see further ahead, but it didn't matter. The car was moving forward, and that was enough.