The next day, Joseph opened the shop as usual. Familiar customers filed in, and the store soon became lively again. Sitting behind the counter, he casually picked up a newspaper to read.
Before long, a customer tapped on the counter twice and gave him a questioning look. "Got anything special in recently?"
This customer was a regular who had supported the shop several times. He had the means to buy books worth two pounds, but he always haggled fiercely. Joseph had to quote inflated prices just to have room to negotiate. If the man weren't so wealthy, Joseph wouldn't bother doing business with him.
Joseph looked troubled. "There *is* a particularly fine piece," he said, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together to suggest it was expensive.
The regular customer became intrigued and urged Joseph to show him, but Joseph didn't reach under the counter as he usually did with affordable popular books. Instead, he pointed upstairs.
The customer understood immediately. The books on the second floor were higher in quality—but not freely accessible. A trip upstairs usually meant spending at least a pound, or the privilege would be revoked next time.
While he hesitated, another customer stepped forward, giving Joseph a knowing signal. Joseph smiled apologetically at the first man and exchanged a subtle series of coded gestures with the second. This second regular was the opposite in character—generous, decisive, and never bargained. He even tipped, making him one of Joseph's favorite clients and someone he was more than willing to pitch to.
As expected, the generous customer, trusting Joseph's taste, didn't hesitate to express interest in going upstairs. The stingy regular, not wanting to miss out, quickly declared he wanted to take a look too.
With that, Joseph led them up the winding, somewhat grimy stairs into the small second-floor space.
Rather than immediately introducing the work he truly intended to sell, Joseph first presented a few other pieces as a warm-up. These were handpicked manuscripts he'd acquired directly from private authors. One of them was the same kind Elina had previously bought—*Randiana, A Stimulating Story.*
Before *A Strange Dream Journey*, Joseph had considered these top-tier works. However, due to various concerns, the authors were unwilling to publish widely, so he printed a limited run in his own small press. Naturally, the prices were high, making them part of his "private collection." Many regulars came upstairs precisely to discover such rare gems.
And they were indeed of excellent quality. The generous customer promptly declared he'd take them all. Meanwhile, the stingy one carefully picked through the offerings and finally chose a single book. Joseph remained calm, waiting for them to finish shopping. Then he turned to the real highlight of the day.
He had built up to this moment with care, because *A Strange Dream Journey* was extraordinarily expensive, and he needed to assess their "sincerity."
"I must be honest," Joseph lowered his voice, crafting an atmosphere that said, *You're in luck today—I wouldn't tell just anyone,* "you've come at the perfect time. I've just acquired a work of extremely high quality—even Mr. Hellman couldn't stop praising it. He said it could dominate the entire Holywell Street."
Though both customers had grown numb to sales pitches like "a true classic!" or "a must-read!", this time Hellman's name was brought up, along with a bold claim about its potential to "dominate Holywell Street." That definitely got their attention. They leaned in, urging Joseph to explain what made the book so special.
But Joseph didn't reveal the book just yet. First, he described the author's first visit to the shop: "He wore a suit that didn't quite fit, but the fabric and tailoring were clearly of high quality. I thought—he must be of noble birth, perhaps fallen on hard times, now forced to sell his talents."
Casting the author as a "fallen aristocrat," Joseph continued to build the mystique. "That day, he brought in a manuscript with prose flowing with an old-world elegance. I had to tell him it didn't fit our store's style and advised him to use this as a reference," he said, holding up *Randiana, A Stimulating Story* as the model.
"Surprisingly, less than half a month later, he came back with a completely new manuscript," Joseph's gaze turned distant, as if reliving that moment. "My God, it was the most astonishing work I've ever seen. Until then, I never knew erotic literature could be written *that* way."
By now, the two customers were burning with curiosity and impatience, urging Joseph to hurry up and show them this legendary book.
Joseph spent a few more minutes describing his sense of awe, repeating that it had left him absolutely *spellbound*. So much so, he immediately recommended it to Mr. Hellman—and guess what? *Hellman was also left speechless!*
With their expectations thoroughly stoked, the two customers were on the edge of their seats, desperate to see this so-called masterpiece.
But just as the excitement reached a peak, Joseph suddenly shifted tone and sheepishly admitted that the price of the book was also… *astonishing.*
"Yes, I did try to talk Mr. Hellman down," he insisted, "but he stood firm. He said this book is worth far more than two pounds—that this price is already a bargain."
By this point, even the stingy regular couldn't find fault with the price. After all, wasn't this the work that had everyone so "utterly blown away"?
Seizing the moment, Joseph pulled out two wooden boxes from a hidden corner, each containing a copy of *A Strange Dream Journey*. He opened his own box to show off the book's design. The two customers were impressed—the binding was indeed exquisite, something rarely seen on Holywell Street.
He carefully lifted the book to show the cover, but didn't flip through the pages—worried that the thick blank pages inside might give away the deception and provoke outrage.
Seeing the fine craftsmanship and satisfying heft of the book, both customers eagerly bought a copy. Even the normally tightfisted regular paid without haggling, hugging the box with a dreamy smile.
Still, Joseph felt the need to explain, "The book is bound exactly like a formal publication, so there are a few blank pages included. You can use them to jot down notes or a diary—if someone accidentally finds it, they'll just assume it's a plain notebook and won't guess what's actually inside."
He had racked his brain for that explanation, just to justify the presence of all those blank pages.
The customers nodded approvingly and praised the ingenuity of the printing house. Joseph, meanwhile, just wanted to send them off as quickly as possible, praying they wouldn't open the book immediately—otherwise they'd discover that over half of it was empty.
As the two satisfied customers left, Joseph finally relaxed, returning behind the counter where a new group of eager clients was already waiting.
Meanwhile, the generous customer—his name was Owen—was on his way home, carrying the box with excitement. Owen was the youngest son of a wealthy middle-class family, and his favorite hobby was reading all kinds of books.
When he entered the house with the box, he immediately ran into his sharp-eyed older brother—and froze.
"What did you bring back?" the brother asked, eyes fixed on the box. "Let me see."
Owen, nervous and reluctant, placed the box on the table. He knew if he tried to run, he wouldn't get far—and would only end up getting beaten later.
His brother, frowning at the flashy titles, said sternly, "Why do you read this trash? You're too young to know what's good for you. I'll keep these for now."
With that, he confiscated all the books. When his eyes landed on the seemingly normal *A Strange Dream Journey*, he hesitated, then decided to take that one too. "If it's proper literature, I'll give it back."
Owen nearly burst into tears. He could let the other books go—but he was dying to know what was inside that two-pound masterpiece!
Back in his room, Owen's brother sat down and began flipping through the books.
He had read plenty of these before—same old writing, same old plots. At first, they had thrilled him, but over time, his interest waned. It had been a long while since he last visited the little shop on Holywell Street. Reading those familiar pages now, he gave a faint smile, nostalgic for those days when books still excited him.
Finally, his hand reached for the wooden box containing *A Strange Dream Journey.*