In fact, Shiller's estimation of the situation was still a bit off, because the next morning, there was actually a line forming at the entrance of the tavern.
When Shiller walked into the bar, he thought he was seeing an illusion. Not only was the bar fully seated, but there was also a long line behind it, all made up of aliens with colorful skin.
He couldn't understand it. Don't aliens have hardly any drinking culture? So why were they lining up at the tavern early in the morning?
Then he saw that familiar purple-skinned alien in the line. The other grinned at him and said in Universal Language, "Good morning, human. They really liked your fruit and wanted to come back for more."
Only then did Shiller realize that this guy must have taken the fruit platter back and shared it. Even though he sold it for a pretty penny, it was considered a cost-effective option in the cosmos. More importantly, there were no restrictions on status or purchases, and you could take it to go. So they all came rushing in.
So Shiller started slicing fruit platters. But almost the entire construction team came, and each wanted two or three portions, so he couldn't keep up and had to call everyone in the tavern to help slice fruit.
He put all the fruit stored in the gray mist into the bar, causing a burst of exclamations. He overheard a bit, and it seemed they thought Shiller must be some kind of big noble, or maybe a black market fruit dealer.
Even Pikachu couldn't help but roll his eyes, saying, "These people really haven't seen the world. Just having a lot of fruit makes you a noble?"
"I'm afraid so," Shiller explained the information he looked up yesterday and said, "The split of Earth's nations has its advantages. The sooner they unify, the more solidified the class structure becomes. Their civilization has probably lasted for thousands of years, with a class structure as sturdy as a fortress, so of course, they judge others by themselves."
"If we build an orchard here and let them pick and eat by themselves, won't we sell like crazy?"
"You really have a knack for business. I'll ask Pamela later."
As Shiller handed out fruit platters, he chatted with these aliens and learned more about interstellar livelihoods from them.
"This fruit called watermelon is very nice, even better than what I ate at the grand estate owner's place. He might lay out a lot of fruit at banquets, but most of it isn't very fresh. It's always the same few types and gets boring."
"Am I seeing this right? Is there juice on the menu? Do you juice fresh fruit? Isn't that a bit wasteful? Where we're from, only fruits about to spoil get juiced."
"Yes, we can also buy fruit at the market. The kind of fruit we eat has plenty of moisture but isn't sweet, just has a bit of a vegetable taste. Not as tasty as yours."
"Fruit in our community is horribly expensive. I earn quite a bit, but just one sweet melon costs dozens of Universal Coins. We can't eat it every day. It's a shame there's no preservation cabin here, or else I'd take a watermelon back for my daughter to try."
That's when Shiller realized that his fruit was actually quite cheap. Even though there wasn't much, it was fresh, not frozen or chilled, and it offered sweet and tangy flavors, a fun combination that these aliens found very interesting.
However, Shiller hadn't stocked much fruit since he wasn't directly connected to producers but instead picked fresh ones from supermarkets. Even after visiting several, he didn't buy much.
Human spaceships aren't fast enough, and preservation technology hasn't reached the point of storing fresh goods for a long time. If it was large-scale transport, the goods might spoil before reaching their destination. So cultivation is the way to go.
By that morning, Shiller had already sold more than half of the fruit he stocked. He had to agree with Pamela's suggestion to return to Gotham first, get some soil, and see if it would adapt to the complex alien environment. As for whether the plants grown would be poisonous or aggressive, they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.
Besides, looking at these burly aliens, if the fruit turned out to be aggressive, they could just set up an arena; only those who win get to eat, while the others have to wait their turn.
After selling fruit platters for a whole morning, everyone's hands were a bit sore from slicing. The others went upstairs to rest, and Shiller made another trip back to Earth to buy more fruit. This time, he chose some less common ones like sugar apple, lychee, and Sugar tangerine.
He had overheard some aliens complaining that the fruit wasn't sweet enough, probably because some races lacked a strong sense of sweetness, so they needed something more intense. Shiller even bought some canned yellow peaches; if no one else liked them, he'd eat them himself.
He had just returned, and it was already lunchtime. Although the construction site provided meals, that purple-skinned big guy led another group over for lunch, chattering away in dialect, seemingly praising Shiller's cooking skills.
This time they were much more relaxed, apparently understanding that this human behind the bar wouldn't suddenly go mad and kill them all. They even dared to ask questions when ordering. So Shiller cooked them lychee roast chicken, Texas smoked meat, sausages, and a vegetable salad, with pizza as the main course and a large beer for each.
The aliens ate with greasy mouths, and finally, each of them had a big fruit platter. Shiller swapped in the new fruits, which left the aliens amazed.
"Are these from Earth too? You have so many kinds of fruits?"
"Is this a lot?" Shiller asked in return.
"Of course! Our home planet only has six kinds. And to be honest, I think three of them hardly count as fruit. They only squeeze them in because the export duty for fruit is lower than for vegetables."
"I don't have many, probably only seven or eight kinds. But we've tasted so many here, does Earth have even more?"
"Of course, we have a lot of different fruits." Shiller thought for a moment and said, "This is just a small part."
"And we have different varieties for each fruit, like oranges have sugar oranges, sweet oranges, tangerines, green oranges, etc. Melons have watermelons, sweet melons, honeydews, cantaloupes..."
The aliens exchanged glances, saying with some envy, "No wonder Earth is called the Cosmic Greenhouse. You have so many fruits, the nobles over there must live really well."
Shiller opened his mouth but didn't say, these fruits are basically affordable for everyone. Even in poorer countries, if their geographic location is good, they don't lack fruits. For instance, some tropical countries in South America can gorge themselves on tropical fruits like bananas, mangoes, and pineapples.
Shiller even opened a coconut for each of them. The leading purple-skinned giant said with some surprise, "You even have fruits where the flesh is water. It's hard to imagine how abundant your water resources are."
However, the coconut water received unanimous praise from them. It's not that the taste is particularly unique; the key is, they can take the coconut shell back home to show off to their kind.
These guys went back, obviously to another round of grandiose publicity. Before even reaching dinner time, they started lining up again. Shiller was busy until he lost track of time, and these people somehow learned how to play in the nightclub by themselves; they finished eating but wouldn't leave, ordering drinks, and a fruit platter while chatting away.
Although no one dared to trouble Shiller with cleaning up, since there were guests, Shiller couldn't leave, so he could only wait there until midnight.
Once all the guests left, he rushed directly into Pikachu's room, lifted the yellow mouse out from under the covers, and yelled into his ear: "Recruit people! Do you hear me? Recruit people!!!"
Pikachu rubbed his ear and said, "Aren't you handling this quite well?"
Then received Shiller's Death Stare, causing Pikachu to say, "Alright, I'll return to Earth and ask around to see if anyone can work the night shift."
Pikachu's efficiency was quite high. He returned in the middle of the night, and even before the next morning, he brought back someone, guess what? It was Mephisto!
"Why is it you again?" Shiller couldn't help but ask.
"I wanted to ask you. Such a good opportunity, you didn't invite me, not very bro-like." Mephisto was using Johnny's face as he leaned against the bar, saying, "This is a great chance to spread the gospel across the cosmos."
"You're here to bartend, not preach."
"Just tell me if I'm suited for the night shift." Mephisto shook his head and finally revealed his true form—a demon with a devil's head and goat hooves.
"I never knew that devils appear at night because they like night shifts." Shiller said with some sarcasm.
Despite this, someone came to help, so Shiller couldn't be picky about who it was. However, Mephisto was surprisingly adept at his job, befitting a heart-corrupting devil, quickly getting chummy with the aliens in a few sentences.
This bunch of aliens didn't have the mage's skills, obviously couldn't see Mephisto's true identity. The cosmos has no shortage of strangely-looking beings, and they lacked any demon culture, naturally not associating him with that.
Mephisto was indiscriminately sowing seeds; other civilizations' beliefs, though not so valuable, were better than nothing. Seeing these aliens easily swayed, Shiller quickly dispatched Mephisto to the kitchen; any delay could turn this into a heresy hub.
Although it didn't matter whether aliens believed in Mephisto, the current Councilman is a Supreme Magician, who definitely won't show devils any kindness. If they really investigated on them, beating up Mephisto is a minor issue, but having their business license revoked would be troublesome.
Mephisto wasn't upset, just doing miscellaneous tasks, occasionally visiting the construction site for a stroll. But you have to admit, this guy has the ability to see through people's hearts, after a turnaround, he came back to Shiller and said, "The workers you recruited... tsk tsk..."
Shiller looked up at him while wiping a glass. Mephisto didn't keep him guessing, leaning against the bar and said, "Previously, that blue-skinned guy with the pattern on his head is a mechanical humanoid. He replaced the identity of the original unfortunate soul and seized his memories. Looks like he's working for those robots."
"And that red-skinned giant. Although he hasn't been replaced, he shows signs of brainwashing. I suspect those bird people are responsible, they're experts at this. I've had my followers fall victim while developing believers among them."
"Then there's that duty manager. He seemed off too, but he hides it deepest. My gut tells me he's after something big. You guys have quite a bit of trouble on your hands."
"Alright," Shiller put the cloth aside and then said, "If you can't help, don't just sit here and make sarcastic remarks. As if you didn't benefit from humans developing the Milky Way galaxy. Or should I notify the Supreme Magician..."
"No, no, no," Mephisto quickly said, "Aren't I reminding you? If they can mix things up, why can't I? Just watch, I'll ensure this problem is resolved beautifully."