THE INNOVATION ADVANTAGE

Marcus woke in Valdris with chemistry formulas and molecular structures buzzing through his mind from Jake's intensive tutoring session. For a moment, he struggled to reconcile the academic knowledge swirling in his head with the stone walls and medieval smells of Building 47. But as consciousness returned, he realized his dual existence might be an advantage. All that chemistry review could translate directly into better soap formulations.

"Morning, Marcus," Big Tom greeted him as he emerged from his sleeping alcove. "You've got that look again."

"What look?"

"The one that means you've figured out something clever and I'm gonna end up carrying heavy things because of it."

Marcus laughed, but his smile faded as he took in his cousin's appearance. Tom had lost weight. Not enough to affect his massive frame, but enough that his face looked leaner, more angular.

"How's grandfather doing?" Marcus asked, though he already knew the answer from the hollow coughs echoing through the thin walls.

Tom's expression grew serious. "Tired. The mine work is hard on him, but he won't admit it. Says he's fine, but I hear him coughing all night. And he's..." Tom gestured vaguely at his own reduced frame. "We're all getting thinner. The food rations aren't what they used to be."

Marcus felt guilt twist in his stomach. While he focused on academic problems in the real world, his family was suffering in Valdris. The income from his soap business wasn't a nice opportunity. It was essential for their survival and dignity.

At Aldric's shop, Marcus threw himself into perfecting their soap formulations with renewed intensity. The chemistry knowledge he'd been cramming for Dr. Martinez's class translated into understanding saponification processes, and he had access to techniques that wouldn't be discovered in this world for centuries.

"This batch is different," Aldric observed, examining soap they'd made the previous week. "The texture is smoother, the scent more lasting. What changed?"

"Superfat percentage," Marcus explained, consulting notes written in both English and crude Valdrian script. "I've been researching. Thinking about how different oil ratios affect the final product. If we leave a small percentage of oils unsaponified, it makes the soap more moisturizing."

The truth was he'd spent hours the night before browsing soap-making forums and obscure Reddit threads, absorbing techniques developed by modern artisans and adapting them for medieval materials.

"We need to stand out from competitors," Marcus continued, pulling out soap samples he'd been experimenting with. "Look at these shapes, these colors, these scent combinations. Nobody in Drakmoor is making anything like this."

The soaps were impressive. Rectangular bars with swirled colors, complex fragrances that combined oils in sophisticated ways, and a smooth finish that looked professionally crafted. Marcus had even figured out how to embed dried flower petals for visual appeal.

"These are beautiful," Aldric admitted. "But beauty alone won't sell them. We need customers to know they exist."

"Exactly." Marcus reached into his bag and pulled out a purchase from that morning. A clean piece of wood and a razor-sharp long knife. "Which is why we're going to revolutionize marketing in Valdris."

"What are you planning with that?" Aldric asked.

"Watch." Marcus placed the wood on his workbench and began carefully shaving thin layers from its surface. The technique was one he'd seen in a documentary about traditional Japanese paper-making, though he'd attempted cruder versions back on the farm.

With access to better tools and materials in Drakmoor, the results were dramatic. Each pass of the razor produced a thin, flexible sheet almost paper-like in texture.

"What are we gonna do with... whatever that is?" Aldric asked, watching Marcus accumulate wood shavings.

"We're gonna make paper," Marcus replied, arranging the shavings and pressing them together. "And then we're gonna build a printing machine."

"A what machine?"

"Printing machine. For mass-producing written advertisements."

Aldric stared at him blankly. "Marcus, I'm not following."

Marcus hung the pressed wood sheets on a rope line in the basement, like laundry drying. "See, when these dry, they'll form flexible sheets we can write on. But instead of writing each advertisement by hand. Which would take months. We'll create a machine that can reproduce the same text hundreds of times quickly."

"Nobody's gonna buy those awful-looking papers," Aldric protested.

"We're not gonna sell them," Marcus explained. "We're gonna give them away. Free. Hang them on walls, slip them under doors, hand them out when people finish shopping. You know... advertising."

The concept clearly wasn't translating. Aldric looked at Marcus like he'd suggested giving away gold coins.

"Why would we give away anything for free?"

"To tell people about our soap. To make them want to buy it." Marcus realized he was trying to explain something that didn't exist in this world. "Think of it like... like when merchants call out about their wares in the marketplace, but in written form that people can take home and think about."

"But how do we write hundreds of these things? It would take months to copy the same message over and over."

"That's where the printing machine comes in." Marcus began sketching a basic design on his makeshift paper. "We carve our advertisement into wood or stone, coat it with ink, and press it onto paper. One carved plate can make hundreds of copies."

Aldric studied the sketch with growing fascination. "This... this has never been done before?"

"Not in Valdris, as far as I know. Which means we'll be the first."

"And you know how to build such a machine?"

Marcus felt uncertainty creep in. He'd researched basic printing press designs online, but building one with medieval tools would be challenging. "I know the principles. We'll figure out the details as we go."

"This is either brilliant or insane," Aldric said slowly.

"Maybe both. But if it works, we'll reach customers throughout Drakmoor without relying on word-of-mouth or expensive personal sales calls."

As they worked through the afternoon, Marcus found himself energized by the creative challenge of adapting modern concepts to medieval technology. The printing press idea was ambitious, perhaps too ambitious, but the basic concept of advertising was sound. Even if they had to start with hand-copied flyers, the marketing advantage would be significant.

"There's something else," Marcus added as they reviewed their soap inventory. "We need to think about branding."

"Branding?"

"Creating a name and reputation that customers will remember and trust. Something that makes our soap different from everyone else's soap, not just in quality but in perception."

Marcus was drawing on everything he'd learned from Tyler's obsession with content creation and online marketing, translating digital-age concepts into medieval commerce.

"What kind of name?" Aldric asked.

"Something that suggests luxury, quality, innovation. Maybe 'Thorne & Associates' or 'Dragon Mountain Artisan Soaps' or..." Marcus paused, thinking. "What about 'Valdrian Royal Soap Company'? Implies quality fit for nobility."

"Is it legal to use 'Royal' in a business name?"

"Probably not. But 'Noble' might work. Or 'Premium' or 'Imperial.'"

As the afternoon progressed, Marcus realized he was applying business concepts centuries ahead of their time. Marketing, branding, mass production, advertising. These were ideas that could revolutionize commerce in Valdris if implemented correctly.

"Aldric," Marcus said as they prepared to close the shop, "I want you to know that I'm more committed to this partnership than ever. I have academic obligations in... another part of my life that will require intense focus during my waking hours there."

Aldric's expression grew curious. "Academic obligations? You mean formal education?"

"Something like that. But here's the thing. Since I'll be getting better rest and my mind will be sharper, I think our work here will improve. I'll be able to bring fresh insights and more energy to our projects."

"That sounds... positive?" Aldric said, not entirely understanding but trusting Marcus's enthusiasm.

"Definitely positive. The printing machine project is still on track. We just need to be systematic about it. Perfect the paper-making first, then work on ink formulations, then build the press mechanism."

Marcus looked at his sketches and the drying paper sheets with renewed excitement. The project was ambitious and potentially revolutionary, and the strange time mechanics of his dual existence meant he could give it sustained attention while fulfilling his commitments to Dr. Martinez.

"I want to accelerate our timeline," Marcus continued. "Start testing market responses with hand-copied advertisements while we develop the printing technology. If we can prove the advertising concept works, we'll have a huge advantage when the printing machine is ready."

Aldric smiled, clearly relieved and energized by Marcus's enthusiasm. "Now that sounds like the ambitious partner I've been working with."

As Marcus walked home through Drakmoor's evening streets, he reflected on the balance of his two lives. In Valdris, he was developing innovations that could transform commerce and society. In the real world, he was applying modern knowledge to medieval problems in ways that enhanced his understanding of both.

The irony wasn't lost on him. He was more intellectually engaged and creative in the medieval world, but that creativity was fueled by knowledge from the technologically advanced one. The two worlds were becoming complementary rather than competing for his attention.

Tomorrow, he would wake up in his dorm room and spend the day studying chemistry concepts he could apply practically in Valdris. Tonight, he had planted seeds for innovations that could change how business was conducted in an entire kingdom.

The question was whether he could maintain this delicate balance as the stakes continued to rise in both worlds.