You are ordered to support the War of Resistance against Japan; China enters Level 1 combat readines

Shen Wang didn't give them a chance to catch their breath and went straight to the next booth.

Instant coffee, chewing gum, canned luncheon meat, ultra-thin nylon stockings, quartz watches, tin flashlights, alkaline dry cell batteries...

Shen Wang presented each item one by one, like a master auctioneer, using minimal space to outline the irreplaceable nature of each exhibit, and then leading to the next exhibit before anyone could react.

Don't give anyone time to think or bargain; give them enough time to be tempted.

Steam rose from the instant coffee stand. Shen Wang poured hot water into the kettle and, in three seconds, produced four cups of fragrant coffee, which he then handed to the four representatives.

White took the cup, smelled it, took a sip, and looked down at the dark liquid in the cup. He remembered the "naval coffee" he had drunk on the warship last time, which had been brewed for three hours and was so bitter it could be used to scrub the bottom of a pot. He felt that he might never be able to drink that kind of thing again in his life.

The minty coolness of the chewing gum bursting in his mouth made Lieutenant Colonel Mike spit it out, which made White next to him burst into laughter.

Then he chewed a piece himself, and his laughter stopped. (Bo)

The coolness of the lotus shoots straight to the top of my head, like someone opening a window in my nasal cavity, instantly making me feel more awake.

If you put this stuff in a soldier's field rations, it'll be more invigorating than coffee.

Needless to say, the luncheon meat was another story. Little Morgan, who had tried it before, had already witnessed the power of "technological innovation." Looking at the seven or eight different flavors of canned goods in the display case, he was already calculating the profits in his mind.

This stuff is suitable for both military and civilian use; it can be consumed by both the poor and the rich. Once it's stocked up, it's like a non-stop money-printing machine.

Further inside, there is a display of daily necessities.

The ultra-thin nylon stockings hanging on the display rack were the first thing to catch everyone's eye.

It's as thin as a cicada's wing, with a delicate sheen, and so elastic that it can be stretched to twice its original length.

These ultra-thin stockings, once shipped to London and New York, are so sought after by wealthy ladies and socialites that they're practically fighting over them. They sell for just a few pounds a pair and people are scrambling to buy them – pure profiteering.

Sir George used his cane to lift a corner of the stocking, letting it spin a few times in the light.

Then he remembered that the last time his wife argued with him was because she couldn't buy him stockings.

No, it's that I didn't manage to get any. There are always long queues in front of the hosiery counters in London department stores, and by the time you get to the front, there are only empty shelves left.

He suddenly realized that the stocking in his hand wasn't a stocking, but a ballot for his re-election campaign.

The dial of the quartz electronic watch shimmers slightly under the light, and the second hand ticks with an accuracy of no more than five seconds per month. It doesn't need to be wound, doesn't need maintenance, and you won't feel bad if it gets dropped.

Von Speer put the watch on his wrist to test its weight; it was so light he could barely feel it. Then he took it off and put it back on the display stand with extreme restraint.

But his eyes never left the watch.

He had thought more than once that if his armored forces could solve the time synchronization problem, the Blitzkrieg could be at least 30% faster.

The tin flashlight was switched on, and a bright yellow beam shot out for more than ten meters, its clear path visible even in the brightly lit exhibition hall.

The accompanying alkaline dry cell battery has more than five times the capacity of carbon-zinc batteries on the market, while its cost is lower.

Colonel Mongko weighed the flashlight in his hand; it was surprisingly light. He tapped the tube lightly with his fingernail, and the metallic echo was crisp and short.

He put the flashlight back on the display stand, took half a step forward expressionlessly, then took that half step back, looked down, and glanced at it again.

This isn't just a flashlight; it's an absolute advantage for nighttime patrols.

The glass jar of the moisturizing snow cream gleamed softly under the light. Shen Wang used a small spoon to scoop a little and applied it to the back of his hand. The cream melted on his skin, leaving a cool and delicate moisturizing sensation.

He pointed to the back of his hand and said to the representatives, "This stuff can save soldiers' faces from frostbite and chapped skin in the dry trenches during winter. It's more effective than medicine."

"Of course, the ladies will go even crazier for it."

Fluoride toothpaste, when squeezed onto a toothbrush, leaves a refreshing minty scent in your mouth, a whole level better than tooth powder on the market.

White had already brushed his teeth once, and he suddenly realized that the minty smell on his toothbrush hadn't dissipated yet, and it had been a full six hours since he last brushed.

Shen Wang spent nearly an hour explaining everything on the display stand clearly and thoroughly.

He knew that this product would be insignificant in a convenience store in later generations, but in 1941, if priced reasonably, any of these items could become bestsellers.

What's even more ingenious is that they are not complementary products, but rather a full-category matrix covering food, drink, clothing, and daily necessities, from the front lines to the rear, and from soldiers to civilians.

Bundling them together generates profits that are not cumulative, but exponential.

When they finally stopped in front of the last booth, the expressions on the faces of the representatives from the four countries could no longer be described as simply "shocked".

From military rations to lighters, from cola to stockings, from digital watches to toothpaste, everyone experienced a subtle sense of dizziness as they looked through the items.

It's like someone who has just learned to ride a bicycle being taken to see a Formula One race car; every part is telling you that what you lack is not quantity, but the times.

But they are, after all, the world's top negotiators, chaebol heirs, professional soldiers, and diplomats.

Shocked as they were, and able to do mental calculations, they weren't blinded by their own thoughts.

In fact, these people had secretly met last night.

At that moment, when Shen Wang finally stopped introducing himself and turned to face them, White, Morgan Jr., Sir George, and von Speer quickly exchanged a glance.

The glance was so brief that none of the accompanying personnel present noticed it, but the tacit understanding between the four of them required no further words.

They silently repeated the agreement in their minds: the products were indeed good, every single one of them was good, better than any of us had expected.

But don't even think about selling it for a high price!

We are the buyers, and we represent the four most powerful countries in the world.

We have bargaining power, we have alternatives, and we have the world's largest market share.

You're just an Eastern businessman, no matter how capable you are, how could you possibly outmaneuver all four of us at once?

"Shen, I must admit, what you presented was truly astonishing."

White spoke first, his tone composed and diplomatic, his words polite and well-chosen, as if he were praising a student with good grades.

His hands were in his suit trouser pockets, his shoulders slightly back, his posture relaxed and confident.

The shock of being bombarded with products on the exhibition stand had subsided, and he now switched back to his role as the Chief Envoy for Far Eastern Affairs of the United States.

A negotiator representing the world's largest industrial nation and largest market.

Praise is praise, but now it's time to talk about the price.

"I just wonder, what will the price be?"

He asked the question casually, as if it were just a casual remark, without even looking at Shen Wang. Instead, he looked down at the can of luncheon meat on the display stand, as if he were just evaluating a dispensable reserve.

Shen Wang did not answer directly.

He threw the question back at him: "How much is Mr. White willing to offer?"

White frowned slightly.

This Eastern businessman didn't follow the script. The normal procedure is for the seller to quote a price first, and then the buyer to negotiate a lower price; this is a basic rule of international trade.

But Shen Wang didn't make a bid; instead, he passed the ball back, putting Shen Wang at a moment's disadvantage.

He pondered for a moment, tapping his fingers lightly on the table, preparing to announce a meticulously calculated reserve price.

But little Morgan spoke up first.

"We'll only sell canned luncheon meat for a maximum of 5 cents a can!"