IT HAS become a staple story in the local American press: a Daiso store opening near you. Last month it was the turn of Plano, Texas, to get a branch of the Japanese chain of shops where everything costs ¥100. (In America it actually charges $1.50 per item, giving it a premium over the current exchange rate of 97 cents per ¥100.) The Plano store is the second of 44 shops planned for the state. To date California has 49 branches.

America is far from alone. As well as its 3,000-odd stores in Japan, Daiso has 1,500-plus outlets abroad. Its bargain range of products, from value-for-money bags to Japanese “kawaii” or “cute” figures, are sold around the world, from countries in Latin America to the Gulf states and throughout the rest of Asia. (As yet there are no ¥100 stores in Europe.)

This roll-out is orchestrated from a headquarters in the eastern suburbs of Hiroshima. The building looks bland from the outside. But its interior is decked out in Daiso’s trademark pink. One floor is abuzz with buyers examining packs of wet wipes and plastic toys; tables are scattered with everything from children’s stickers to fancy-dress outfits. By the standards of disciplined Japanese business, Hirotake Yano, who started the company in 1977, is unusually open to experimentation. He says he is not a “cool” or “modern” manager; his gut feeling guides most decisions. “I don’t have any clear vision or strategy,” he says. “I just like to try things out.”

So far that has worked. Daiso dominates what analysts reckon is a ¥600-800 billion ($5.8 billion-7.7 billion) market in Japan, and is the only ¥100 chain to have expanded abroad. Company revenue was ¥396 billion in 2015; this year Kantar Retail, a consulting firm, projects that will grow by over 6%. Daiso’s signature flat price is reliably attractive to Japanese consumers worried about their country’s economic woes. The most popular items are batteries and small household goods. Japan’s convenience stores, such as Lawson, a giant with over 12,500 stores at home, are trying to edge into the market with low-price ranges.

Similarly, Daiso’s initial expansion in America coincided with the 2007-08 financial crisis and subsequent recession. But affordability is not the only ingredient in Daiso’s success. “Daiso’s store experience is unique at a time when shoppers are becoming bored with constant price wars,” says Sara al-Tukhaim, an analyst with Kantar Retail.

At home Daiso has far outstripped its Japanese competitors, including Seria, Watts and Can Do. Initial success has allowed it to build superior scale—it sells 50,000 items compared with Seria’s 20,000, and its network of stores and warehouses is far larger. Not that rivals have given up. Kosuke Narikiyo, an analyst with Nomura, a Japanese securities company, says Seria has eaten some of Daiso’s market share by making its stores cleaner in design and more spotless, and by using calmer colours such as light green. Takahiro Kazahaya, an analyst with Deutsche Bank in Tokyo, says Seria’s profit margin is now higher than Daiso’s.

Seria’s boss, Eiji Kawai, says Seria’s use of data on purchases explains the difference in margins as well as ranges. It eliminates 600 items that sell badly every month, and replaces them with new ones. Daiso, by contrast, holds no truck with big data and rarely looks at figures. “We don’t like to take focus away from the basics of more stores and products,” says Mr Yano. For him just one number—¥100—counts.