Inside the editorial office of 'Ladies' Monthly', three editors were leisurely sipping fragrant tea, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility.
This was the lightest time of the month—distribution for the last issue was complete, and submissions for the next had yet to arrive—giving them the freedom to observe other magazines' trends at ease.
Thanks to 'Helena', the sales of 'Ladies' Monthly' had been steadily climbing month by month. Especially since the magazine began including dress patterns for the paper dolls as inserts, they had left their competitors far behind, becoming a market leader. The trend caught on swiftly across the industry, with other women's magazines scrambling to print and annotate dress-cutting patterns within their pages.
Yet, none of the three editors took credit for the magazine's success. After all, without the explosive popularity of the paper dolls, the patterns might not have drawn such attention. The credit, they agreed, belonged to Elina—and her compensation had been increased accordingly.
"This dress is really well designed," Lucy said, folding the page carefully as spring prompted a collective desire for airy dresses in light greens and yellows. She planned to take it to her dressmaker.
"I wonder what kind of dress this issue's paper doll will have," Mrs. Orchard, a widow, cast only a casual glance at the vibrant design—such bright colors were no longer suitable for her. Her interest lay in the upcoming paper doll booklet, which might contain styles better suited for her. "By the calendar, it should be arriving soon."
"It has," the male editor replied as he returned from the café downstairs, a child by his side carrying two heavy parcels. Enjoying a relaxed moment had been entirely acceptable during such a lull. With a lighthearted smile, he gestured to the delivery boy. "Your paper doll booklets are here—I brought them up for you."
Lucy skipped over with delight and measured the package against her arms. "Wow, this one looks even thicker than the last issue!"
These custom paper doll deliveries were a service provided by the Muses' Temple Bookshop. Customers who placed orders received the latest releases directly to their doorstep. The delivery boy seemed familiar with the routine, bowed respectfully, and chirped, "Thank you for your patronage. This issue contains twelve booklets in total. The cost is three shillings."
Lucy was taken aback. "Twelve booklets this time?" Although three shillings didn't sound cheap, the sheer volume made it seem like a bargain.
Mrs. Orchard and Lucy paid the boy, who bowed again, then bounded downstairs with youthful energy.
"I remember the first issue only had three booklets," Lucy recalled. "But it came with twelve cards, which really upset the hardcore collectors. The next two issues switched to six booklets and six cards. And now—twelve booklets? Does that mean twelve cards?"
Mrs. Orchard expertly used a letter opener to slit the envelope open, revealing twelve color-covered booklets, each marked with a number indicating its place in the series. Rather than flipping through them, she deftly located the index tucked at the back and unfolded it, causing a trade card to fall out.
"Ooh," Lucy leaned in curiously, "Worth's Tailor Shop—official tailor of the paper dolls. If you like the designs, they'll make them for you. There's even an address. Looks legit."
Mrs. Orchard nodded. The card was nicely made, featuring a large wardrobe filled with black and white fabrics. She set it aside and opened the index. Inside were twelve distinctive outfits, each one dazzling. When she reached the final page, both women gasped—a mysterious silhouette in black stood out, marked boldly with the label: 'Super Rare (SR)'.
"Wow, that dress is full of mystery," Lucy marveled. "So that's what the 'SR' means! No wonder all the previous cards were marked with 'R'—I never understood that until now."
"I really like this one," Mrs. Orchard said softly, pointing to a dusky pink satin gown with airy puffed sleeves and a skirt folded like blooming petals. "And this one too." She gestured to a white gown with a Grecian flair—its sleeves and hem perfectly cut, a blue sash draped across it, evoking elegance and mystery. It wasn't something she'd likely wear in public, but its beauty captivated her nonetheless.
"You'll definitely collect them all!" Lucy encouraged.
Then came the most anticipated moment. With great care, Mrs. Orchard removed the cards from the center of each booklet. The printers had been thoughtful—the cards were inserted face-down to preserve the element of surprise.
She laid out all twelve cards, still face-down. Then, like a solemn ritual, she got up, washed her hands, and dried them meticulously. One by one, she flipped over the cards, her excitement mounting. The male editor leaned closer, eager to see what she would reveal.
"Wow, this one—wait, it's a duplicate?" he noted, furrowing his brow. "And this one too."
"Could you 'not' talk right now?" Lucy glared at him. Among the twelve cards, only three were duplicates—not bad at all. But the elusive SR card was missing. Could it be even rarer than they imagined?
"This feels like gambling," the male editor said bluntly. "My heart's racing just watching. I want to try it myself now."
"You should!" Lucy nudged him. "The Muses' Temple sells them, and they even have a secondhand trading area."
Indeed, the secondhand area of the Muses' Temple was buzzing. Some customers unwrapped their sets on the spot just to trade cards immediately. Store manager James kept a close watch on the area. He and his wife, Nancy, had drawn two duplicate cards themselves and were actively working to complete their set. James eagerly eyed the freshly opened cards, hoping to buy or trade for the ones they lacked.
Whenever a new paper doll set launched, the secondhand trading area would overflow with customers. To accommodate them, James had set up a long table nearby just for card unboxing.
A crowd had gathered around the table, eyes sharp and expectant, watching people open their parcels. Before unwrapping, some closed their eyes in prayer, others chanted softly, and a few struck bizarre poses—much to the confusion of ordinary book-buying patrons.
"What are they doing?" a baffled customer asked.
"Trying to summon an SR," a staff member replied. "Apparently, if you sing 'Fortune Goddess Descend' and pose just right while opening it, you'll draw an SR. They're giving it a go."
"SR?" the customer asked blankly.
"A super rare card," the staff member explained, pointing to a display case featuring a card enclosed in glass. "That one was drawn by a customer here. Our manager paid a fortune to buy it—just to prove that you really 'can' pull an SR from our shop!"
When James had shelled out the money for that SR card, the staff whispered that he must have money to burn. But in hindsight, the decision was brilliant. Ever since he hung a sign reading '"An SR Has Been Drawn Here!"' outside the shop, foot traffic had noticeably increased.
Even those uninterested in paper dolls or cards found their curiosity piqued after seeing the exquisite SR card. When James explained that the rich purple color came from the rare 'Tyrian purple' dye, interest only grew.
This purple dye is derived from marine mollusks, which secrete a milky fluid that turns purple in sunlight. But the process is arduous—it must be fermented in urine and kept far from the city due to the unbearable stench. Tens of thousands of mollusks are required to produce just one gram.
When customers learned how rare and costly the dye was, their desire for the SR card skyrocketed. They may not have loved the cards themselves, but the thought of reselling one for a fortune—'flipping the card', as some said—was irresistible.
After all, a single booklet cost only three pence. But if luck was on your side and you drew an SR card, its resale value could shoot up to several pounds. It was the perfect high-risk, high-reward dream. Who wouldn't want to believe in their own lucky break?
James watched the murmuring, praying crowd, and couldn't help but sigh in admiration: "Whoever came up with this paper doll and card idea is a genius."
"Right?" the staff member agreed. "Who knew a tiny card could be so irresistible?"
Suddenly, a cheer erupted from the crowd. "SR! Someone pulled an SR!"
People rushed in, buzzing with excitement.
"How did you do it?"
"Tell us—what's the secret?"
James leapt up with enthusiasm and called out to his staff, "Quick! Change the sign to say 'TWO' SRs have been drawn here!"