We’re Causing An Incident! (5)

After showing the Hameureun siblings to the VIP guest room, I was able to receive a separate report from Linda.

“At present, the true head of Baron Hameureun’s territory seems to be Tein Hameureun.”

“I know. Rubins was seated by the family elders under the pretext that he must inherit the noble title.”

Linda nodded, then pulled out documents and handed them to me.

When I read them, I found a detailed list of everything required to open this café-and-bakery venture—and a few points immediately stood out.

“It says we’ll also need strong beastkin capable of using force… That’s because of theft, right?”

“That, but also because beastkin could be kidnapped or attacked by armed groups like an assassins’ guild, which could cause serious problems.”

“Hmm… If beastkin killed someone inside their own territory, there would be plenty of nobles who’d make an issue out of it.”

“That’s why we adjusted the budget and the land slightly. The plan is to designate the defense facilities as private property. It’s explained in detail on the next page.”

At Linda’s words, I flipped the page and reviewed it.

Sure enough, what used to be “just a building” had become a full noble-manor-style restaurant—with a wide garden-like area attached.

“It requires a larger lot, but because it’s private property, we can clearly state throughout the restaurant that anyone who maliciously trespasses may be executed on the spot without legal issue. If we station beastkin there, it shouldn’t become a problem.”

“What if they pick a fight anyway and claim there’s no proof?”

“If we use a magic tool to keep a 24-hour video record, there won’t be grounds for dispute.”

“Those… kinds of magic tools exist?”

Linda nodded and explained several tools. The core idea was to incorporate “video recorders” into the building design so they continuously filmed designated zones, creating a surveillance network. In addition, she suggested floating aerial monitoring devices as a backup, so we’d have coverage in case of emergencies.

When I checked the budget, the cost for a single restaurant alone came out to about ten thousand gold coins.

“That’s… huge. If we spend this much and don’t make money, it’ll sting.”

“I believe it’s a business we can’t afford to fail. Also, after discussing this with Lady Tein, we thought: what if we design two separate entrances—one for nobles only, and another for commoners—so we can shape the environment accordingly?”

“So we’d be serving different ‘grades’ of quality?”

Reading the document, I could see the details clearly, and Linda added a few proposals.

“Nobles like things that feel special. They also dislike the idea of anyone being ‘above’ them. So in the design, we can give nobles a refined, comfortable second floor. Commoners, on the other hand, tend to feel uneasy in overly ornate luxury, so we could use a style closer to what they’re used to seeing in town.”

“Fine, you handle that. Did they make any annoying demands?”

“Yes.”

At my question, Linda opened her mouth carefully.

“They asked that a few types of medicines made by you, my lord, also be sold at the nobles’ restaurant.”

“Medicines… Why?”

“They said they want it known in advance that the restaurant is collaborating with the Ingrad Domain.”

I frowned in surprise, and Linda continued.

“I’ll relay Lady Tein’s exact words: ‘Rather than making it seem like a mere baronial house is driving this, we want to plant the impression that someone recognized across the continent lent support.’ In other words, they want to use your reputation in a controlled way.”

“So they want to start by putting it all on the table…?”

Part of me felt uneasy, but any power-holder who investigated even slightly would quickly realize I was behind the siblings. In that case, I could also argue it might be better to leverage it openly, in reverse.

“It’s straying far from the original plan, but if we’re doing this, we might as well go big. Fine—do it. But keep the preparation process absolutely secret, and move as though a wealthy tycoon is quietly buying lots and putting up buildings.”

“Why?”

“Because we need time. Acquiring land and building will take months anyway, won’t it?”

Linda nodded, and I said,

“If it’s going to take long, then we’ll prepare thoroughly—and then we’ll detonate it properly.”

I intended to set off a fanfare in the minds of the entire Terrakan Empire. For that, the first prerequisite was to finish securing military supplies properly.

And I also planned to start feeding rumors little by little.

“We should produce chocolate in finger-joint-sized pieces. Wrap them well in greaseproof paper, then transport and sell them across the continent.”

“…Weren’t you planning to keep things secret?”

“We’ll sell carefully so the source doesn’t get exposed, while growing the rumor. Besides, I think I’ve found a way to keep the rumor from spreading in the wrong direction… so it’s worth trying.”

Linda didn’t understand what I meant, but I had no intention of running my mouth in advance.

After sending Linda off, I was left alone.

That was when Matilda knocked and entered the office.

Even after what happened the other day, she treated me the same as always.

“Is this your formal report?”

“Yes. This is the report on contact with the Lilith Merchant Guild, development work on the cliffside coast, and the timing and duration for constructing the Sky Bridge at the border of the Mad Dragon Forest.”

I took the documents and skimmed them, then asked,

“How do we plan to contact the Lilith Merchant Guild?”

“In fifteen days, aligned with the Dust of Sands Trading Company’s visit, a Lilith Guild executive will come. A letter arrived via Terrelpot.”

That was faster than expected. Since huge interests were at stake, the Dust of Sands Trading Company had likely applied pressure.

And naturally, they’d be curious—what kind of deal we planned, and how we intended to do it.

“Have you designated the beastkin who will be armed?”

“We’re requesting cooperation for now. However, we judged it best not to keep them armed at all times. Instead, the weapons should be stored separately in their homes, and only when war breaks out or an incident occurs would we issue a mobilization order and have them arm themselves.”

“In that case, weapons management becomes difficult.”

“And that relates to a question I wanted to ask.”

“What is it?”

“About the metal you requested from the artisan—‘stainless.’”

I looked at her with mild curiosity and nodded, and she continued.

“If it doesn’t rust, that means less maintenance and long-term quality stability. Rather than purchasing large amounts of equipment maintenance oil, I’d like to propose plating the gear with that metal.”

“Ah. Right—everything we’re making this time is iron, so…”

Matilda waited for my response, so I asked first.

“What was the budget for maintenance oil?”

“We set aside forty thousand gold coins.”

“Then you must’ve heard the estimate—what’s the better deal overall?”

“To be honest, buying extra ore costs more. But if it significantly reduces the time and labor of maintenance—so we can divert effort elsewhere—I judged it better to pay the additional money.”

“How much more?”

“Ten thousand gold coins.”

It was a big number, but if we were planning to spend in the hundreds of thousands overall, it didn’t feel so large. I signed the bottom of the report and said,

“Proceed. Matilda—good judgment.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

She ended with a businesslike bow and left the office. When it came to work, she handled everything cleanly and decisively.

Zillian de Atun was about to walk the wrong path, unable to withstand his desire.

“Did you bring the medicine I ordered?”

He said it to the old man standing before him, wrapped in an all-black robe. The old man, visibly fearful, asked Zillian,

“He is a hero of war… a hero who saved Atun from crisis…”

“Don’t spout nonsense, you dark mage. If that woman becomes mine, isn’t that a good thing? No matter that she’s a high noble—a count of the empire—if she can become the wife of the young and great Zillian de Atun, that too is an honor.”

The irony was thick: faced with a crown prince cloaked in madness, the dark mage looked disgusted instead.

But the dark mage also thought this might not be so bad and pulled a vial from within his robe.

“So this… is the love potion?”

“Yes. But you must be careful. If you use too much, the heart will stop.”

Staring at the pink liquid, Zillian’s desire-swollen eyes rolled as he thought he could finally make Branne his.

That was when a shout came from outside the tent—from the knight guarding the entrance.

“Your Highness, Count Branne has arrived. What are your orders?”

At once, Zillian flicked a hand to drive the dark mage away and poured the so-called love potion into a bottle of liquor he had prepared.

But another shout came from the knight, and Zillian, irritated and about to bark back, made a mistake—he emptied the entire potion into the liquor bottle. Judging he couldn’t fix it now, he hurriedly sealed the bottle and barked,

“Let her in!”

At the order, the tent flap lifted, and Zillian finally laid eyes on the woman he’d longed to meet. He felt his stomach churn—was his own heart about to stop instead?

Then a beautiful voice tickled his ear.

“I heard you wished to see me. Was this merely an excuse to drink in leisure?”

Her voice was sharp, but Zillian thought that only stoked his desire. Still, deciding he couldn’t ruin things at the last moment, he calmed himself and said,

“I beheaded the Marquess of the Demon Realm, yet I failed to offer you proper hospitality. It has long weighed on my heart. If I, in such a position, cannot even offer a hero a single cup of liquor, then the dignity of the one saved—and the dignity of the nation itself—would be laughable. I thought it would not be difficult to share one cup. Please… do not refuse me.”

Zillian even bowed his head slightly in request. Branne hesitated, but thinking it was only one cup, she exhaled as if sighing and said,

“Very well. I will accept only one cup and then leave. Even now, countless are dying on the battlefield. If those who govern fail to set an example and reveal such indolence, morale will surely crash. Keep it from becoming excessive.”

“How could I not? I respect your will.”

And with that, Zillian began pouring the liquor—now laced with the love potion—into Branne’s cup. A cruel smile hung on his lips, but Branne did not notice.

Or rather, disappointed by Zillian’s conduct, she simply averted her eyes from him. She intended to drink and leave immediately.

That was when—

“Now, for you, and for this continent…”

His words were absurd, but she had little choice. Branne took the cup and poured it straight down her throat in one go.