"Mr. Allen is truly a genius," the plump boss couldn't help but praise sincerely upon receiving the letter. "Who would have thought that while everyone else was afraid of those hidden vampire monsters lurking in the shadows, he actually saw a business opportunity to make them part of the Ghost Tour?"
William Trice — this former undead — due to his extraordinary talent, seemed as natural at playing the undead role as breathing. The plump boss, recognizing his potential, promoted him to be his indispensable right-hand man. After Elena left, William took the second-in-command seat at the Ghost Tour and was highly valued by the plump boss.
The booming business of the Ghost Tour, combined with the terrifying fear it generated, changed William's previously emaciated artist image. His complexion became rosy and healthy, and when he wasn't scaring people, he appeared innocent and harmless. Just looking at him made people think he was guileless. It was precisely this approachable appearance that helped him avoid the scrutiny of the Inquisition.
At this moment, William was also moving a small stool, sneaking a peek at the plump boss's letter. He had to admit, Elena's writing was very stirring — reading it made him want to immediately dress up as a vampire and chase after tourists, scaring them until they ran away screaming.
However, a cruel and unyielding fact stood before him: if he were a real person, he would have rolled up his sleeves without hesitation and gotten to work. But he was undead — his identity couldn't withstand scrutiny. The Ghost Tour might barely conceal the truth, as legends of the undead were widespread in the world. But if vampire elements were added, it might attract the attention of the Inquisition. What if they conducted a field inspection and exposed him?
Although their kind of undead wouldn't give themselves away as long as they were well-fed, even when facing Inquisition members face to face, there was still risk. Was it really worth taking such a huge risk?
Just then, the plump boss's voice interrupted his thoughts. "William, what do you think?"
Before William could answer, the plump boss clenched his fist and said resolutely, "I think Mr. Allen is right. If we don't take action, those folks in Whitechapel and London Bridge will jump ahead. We cannot lose this opportunity! If they get there first, the Covent Garden brand will be ruined!"
The plump boss became angry whenever he mentioned those competitors. Whitechapel had no opera house; their most famous ghost story was the "Faceless One." Yet, instead of adapting "Faceless One," they directly copied Covent Garden's Phantom of the Opera, which infuriated the plump boss.
The London Bridge Ghost Tour was equally annoying. They could have used their own "Tower Bridge Guardian" ghost, but they imitated Covent Garden's flower seller ghost. The plump boss always hoped Elena would return and launch ghost tours in more areas to completely defeat these copycats.
"I just can't understand why they don't use their own ghost stories when they have so many," the plump boss fumed. "The Phantom of the Opera is understandable, since the entire London knows only Covent Garden and Drury Lane have opera houses. But now tourists are beginning to question the authenticity of our flower seller ghost. This is outrageous! Covent Garden has such a large flower market, but there's no flower seller near Tower Bridge! Those flowers would be filthy before they even got close!"
Facing the boss's anger, William had to temporarily set aside his worries about the Inquisition and nodded repeatedly, "Exactly. Coming up with new ideas is no easy task. I think it's not that they don't want to create local ghosts, they just lack creativity and talent."
His words made the plump boss pause, then furrow his brow as he looked at the letter again. "That's true, but we don't really have that talent either. This vampire idea — do we just follow tourists and scare them? Hmm, the idea is indeed novel, but how exactly do we implement it? Mr. Allen didn't explain clearly."
The two looked at each other, both feeling a bit at a loss.
The plump boss hastily wrote back, "I think it's best to invite him back. Otherwise, just the few of us won't be able to perfect this idea."
Meanwhile, Elena was still attending class. This afternoon was painting class, which she took as an opportunity to work on paper dolls for the upcoming storyline.
To earn the favor of the goddess of beauty, the paper dolls used to be completed collectively by the club members, with Elena overseeing overall quality or providing fresh ideas. But after the club relocated to the countryside, the heavy responsibility of drawing paper dolls naturally fell on her alone.
Fortunately, since paper dolls are sold as standalone toys, the release timing is flexible — unlike the "Ladies' Monthly," which requires regular issues — so Elena was not rushed. She leisurely flipped through various women's magazines for inspiration.
During these few months of drawing paper dolls, she keenly noticed that although the common folk still favored high-waisted, French-style dresses, remnants of the imperial era, the aristocrats' tastes were quietly changing. Their waistlines were gradually dropping inch by inch, sleeves and skirts widening, layers of lace, ruffles, and flounces increasing, as if slowly moving away from the formerly "simple" style toward more lavish and extravagant looks.
Perhaps influenced by Romanticism, after realizing this shift, Elena naturally adjusted her designs to stay ahead of fashion. Moreover, in the story of "Helen," with the arrival of the Rhine nobles, Helen's parents arranged for her to attend a ball, meaning Helen would have more splendid gowns and dresses.
The earlier series of paper dolls sold quite well, and the habit of collecting cards was developing. Elena planned to officially launch SR paper dolls along with the plot development — that is, opening a new limited card pool!
She felt a little excited just thinking about it.
The SR rarity would surely have a lower probability than the R ones, meaning she would need many more paper dolls as the denominator.
If she painted them all by herself, it would take forever. Elena stared at her canvas, wondering whether the countryside club members had brought painting tools and pigments.
"El," Janet noticed Elena was distracted and quietly reminded her, but it was too late — Teacher Susan had already noticed their small side talk and came over with concern. "How's your painting going? Huh?"
Since they were openly painting in class, Elena no longer tried to hide it. After all, drawing paper dolls was not like writing a romance novel — there was nothing to fear.
"That image… I feel like I've seen it somewhere," Teacher Susan looked at Elena's paper and tried to recall. Janet reminded her, "It seems to be Helen's paper doll."
"Oh right, Helen," Teacher Susan suddenly realized and smiled at Janet.
To prevent these girls from developing unrealistic expectations about love, governesses usually restricted their reading of romantic novels. Of course, a quick glance was allowed, but they hoped to avoid addiction.
"Are you designing clothes for Helen?" Teacher Susan carefully examined Elena's work and praised, "This is really excellent."
Elena had a sudden inspiration and smiled, revealing to Teacher Susan, "Actually, I'm drawing official paper dolls for 'Helen' — like the ones sold commercially."
"Ah?" Janet curiously came closer, puzzled, "I never heard that 'Ladies' Monthly' was recruiting paper doll submissions. I always thought they had professional artists for that."
In fact, there used to be, but now it was possible to have others.
It's a bit complicated, but the paper dolls are entirely controlled by Elena, because the whole idea, sales strategy, and the "Helen" novel itself belong to her. She cooperates with the duke, who handles printing and sales, just like her cooperation with Mr. Herman.
Regarding collecting submissions from club members, the payment comes out of Elena's share. Of course, for the favor of the goddess of beauty, the members don't ask for much pay — just participating is enough to make them grateful.
She hadn't considered public calls for submissions yet. Currently, everyone's art style is not unified, and only under the club environment can she supervise in real time, ensure style consistency, and give immediate guidance when necessary. A submission system cannot achieve this. Even in a future internet era, commissions are a tricky matter.
Therefore, Elena's attention turned to Susan and Janet. If they could help draw the paper dolls, it would save time and energy and bring them some extra income. More importantly, since they receive wages from her, they won't be too strict with her, and perhaps she could even get permission to go out as a man — she was uneasy about the Ghost Tour and wanted to visit Hollywell Street again.
For Susan, this extra income was even more necessary. Although Mrs. Campbell paid a decent salary, being a governess had no job security.
In a few years, when Elena comes of age, Susan would no longer have students to teach. Even if Mrs. Campbell allowed her to stay, her pride wouldn't permit her to freeload. And working for other families might not be as safe — Mr. Campbell is her relative, but with another male employer, she might suffer the unpleasant experiences of her first job.
Even if all went well, she could continue teaching, but a single illness might exhaust her savings, not to mention her retirement.
"Because I'm the artist responsible for this," Elena explained lightly, "There's currently a shortage of artists. If you're willing to help, that would be a great help. Don't worry about pay — 'Helen' is quite generous."
Janet was still half-doubtful. Teacher Susan examined the canvas again carefully and then nodded decisively, "I can do it."
"However, if your work is bad, I won't approve it just because you're my teacher and sister," Elena sighed with relief and said the harsh words upfront.
Janet was still a bit incredulous that her sister had transformed into the paper doll artist for "Helen" after only a few months away, but since Susan agreed, she wouldn't object, though she nervously said, "I want to help too, but my drawing skills… are they really good enough?"
"Of course," Elena said firmly. "Even those club members who were criticized by Berkeley as hopeless could manage. Janet, you've been learning to draw for so many years, how could you not do well? Don't worry, I'll supervise."
After delegating the workload, Elena felt much lighter and couldn't help but wonder how the club members were faring in the countryside — had they adapted to the new environment?
"They really can't stand it there, complaining about the leaking roof. Why not just live somewhere other than the top floor?" Berkeley Duke, who had received letters from the club, was holding his chin and sighing. "The air downstairs smells terrible. Well, spring has come and the temperature is warming up — that is a problem. What to do? They'll just have to endure it. After all, the rain won't last forever. Or they could fix it themselves."
"When will Elena's luggage arrive?" Berkeley flipped through the letter. "Indeed, it's not good to keep her luggage in the countryside, but I remember she has a lot of belongings. That would be hard to conceal. Maybe delay it a bit."
"He also asked about the new issue of paper dolls and sent some drawings done in the countryside," the duke pondered. "That is more urgent. I wonder how Elena is handling that."
"When can she come back? Hmm, not soon. The situation is too tense," Berkeley wrote back, thinking aloud. "Those vampire stories in the newspapers — are they Norman's doing, or my 'dear' uncle's? For now, we can only try to divert the London Bridge people's attention as soon as possible. I wonder if Elena has chosen a haunted house theme. If not, the wax museum might have to do. We need a gimmick theme for that, which is quite a headache. If Elena were here, it would be easier. She always comes up with fresh and interesting ideas…"