At the entrance of Duncan Bookstore in Edinburgh, Duncan reposted the handwritten "Limited Supply" sign.
Of course, he also added a small note below, "Limited to three copies per person. Please do not purchase on behalf of others."
He stepped back, examined the books for a moment, and then turned around with satisfaction. Immediately, someone in the line shouted, "Boss, how many books did you get this time?"
Duncan made a "two" gesture towards that direction.
Two thousand books?!
"Twenty thousand copies!" Duncan grinned. "I've never stocked so many books in my life. If you buy them all today, I'll treat you to whiskey."
A cheer immediately erupted from the ranks.
Across the street, a middle-aged man in an old leather jacket was leaning against a lamppost, drinking coffee and watching the line outside the bookstore with great interest.
He could make out from a distance several of his old friends from the literary world who were talking quietly in the queue, holding notebooks.
One of them stood at the back of the line for a while, and when he heard the person next to him mention Martin Amis's name again, he couldn't help but sigh and said to his companion:
"I wonder what Amis would think if he saw this."
His companion shrugged. "Maybe he won't even read it. He probably thinks it's a 'phenomenon,' and has nothing to do with literature."
"But this is just too... massive. Look at all these people, they've been waiting since five in the morning. This kind of scale... I've never heard of anything like it."
"That's the power of this book. Whether it sells well or not is a completely different matter from whether Martin Amis thinks it's good or not."
The man in the old leather jacket overheard their conversation, chuckled softly from afar, and muttered to himself:
"That's right. Whether it sells well or not, and whether you think it's good or not, are two completely different things."
He lowered his head, finished the last sip of his coffee, casually tossed the cup into the nearby trash can, and then joined the end of the line.
More and more people gathered outside the bookstores, some discussing the ending of the first book, others speculating about what the Chamber of Secrets might be.
Those serious discussions in the newspapers turned into jests and jokes in their mouths.
Believe it or not, the second one will definitely be better than the first.
"Isn't that obvious? Otherwise, why would I be queuing up?"
"I mean, all those critics arguing and arguing, but we still buy it. Isn't that the best response?"
"Yes, let them make their noise, we'll read ours."
Time ticked by, and finally, it was exactly nine o'clock.
Alfred took a deep breath, unbuttoned one button of his shirt collar, and nodded to Peter by the door.
"Open the door."
With a click, Peter opened the heavy glass door.
The crowd outside surged in like a torrent of water released from a dam.
Footsteps, voices, and the rustling of banknotes rubbing together instantly filled the entire bookstore.
I want two books!
"Three books! Give me three books!"
"Don't push! There are people behind me!"
"Excuse me, could you move aside? My wallet is here!"
Five or six layers of people instantly surrounded the counter, arms outstretched with colorful pounds, some clutching loose change, coins jingling and rolling across the counter.
Alfred was suddenly pushed behind the counter, clutching a handful of change, frantically handing books to customers.
Mary stood beside him, her forehead covered in sweat, her voice hoarse. "Don't push! There's enough! Take your time—"
But no one could take their time; those colorful pounds were hoisted into the air like leaves, fingers gripping the edges of the banknotes and desperately stretching forward.
A book had just been placed on the counter when it was snatched away by a hand.
"You're in the back! Go to the back of the line!" "I'm right in the back! You stepped on my foot!" "Sorry, sorry, but could you please hurry up—" "I'm already as fast as I can!"
Alfred was so busy he didn't even have time to look up, constantly repeating, "Three pounds a book, change on the right... take your change yourself..."
A customer next to him, who was being jostled and could barely stand, grabbed his arm, his voice urgent. "Is there any left? Will it be sold out?"
"No! We prepared 20,000 copies!"
The customer breathed a sigh of relief, but still didn't let go of the counter, as if afraid of being pushed out of the line if he did.
Peter carried stacks of books out of the warehouse, and every time he put a batch of books on the counter, they were all snatched up in the blink of an eye.
At this very moment, most of the stock in the Simon Bookstore in Manchester had already been sold out.
Simon himself took part in the work, even forgetting to grab the megaphone. He stood by the counter, taking money and handing out books at the same time, his movements more efficient than most of the young clerks.
The shop assistants were running around in circles being ordered around, "Unpack all the boxes over there in the warehouse! Don't carry them out one by one, just pull out a cart!"
Several customers glared at each other because they all grabbed the same book, but no one had time to argue because the next second the clerk piled another stack of new books on the counter.
A middle-aged man, drenched in sweat, finally managed to grab a book. Clutching it like a priceless treasure, he squeezed through the crowd, leaned against the wall, and let out a long sigh of relief.
"Finally... I finally bought it..."
A young man had just squeezed to the counter and, before he could even speak, was pushed and stumbled by the person behind him. "I want a copy! ' Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets '!"
"Three pounds!" Simon handed over a book without looking up.
A girl who looked to be in her early twenties squeezed in front of him, slammed ten pounds on the counter, and said, "Three books, please!"
As Simon handed over the book, he casually asked, "You've read the first one too?"
"I've seen it."
The girl took the book, a barely suppressed smile on her face.
"My mom initially didn't want me to buy it, saying it was all for little kids. But I secretly put the first one next to her pillow while she was asleep."
She told me the next day... she stayed up all night to finish watching it.
Simon laughed heartily, "Then go back and tell her, the second one is coming."
The sales frenzy for " Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Part 1)" lasted all afternoon, with Duncan Bookstore in Edinburgh displaying a "Sold Out Today" sign by 5 p. m.
He had to stand at the door, forcing a smile and apologizing to every customer who came in.
"We're really sold out today... Yes, we'll have new stock tomorrow morning... Come early, and I promise I'll save you a copy."
The handwritten sign next to the shop window that read "Limited supply, while supplies last" was quietly torn down by him sometime during the day.
Just kidding, today isn't the day for limited quantities.
The flagship bookstore in London received a second restock at 4 p. m., and the thousand books were sold out within two hours.
Before closing the door, Alfred stood in front of the empty shelves, looking at the shredded cardboard boxes and foam packing scattered on the floor, which had not yet been cleaned up, and remained silent for a long time.
Mary walked over and gently patted his arm. "Boss, are you alright?"
Alfred slowly turned his head, the corners of his mouth involuntarily turning upwards, and then he couldn't help but laugh.
"I'm so happy!"