#8: The Doomed Fief’s Dying Lord (8) — The Doomed Fief’s Dying Lord

“Ummm…”

After I wrapped up the business explanation, the young head steward rested his chin on his hand and fell into thought.

I asked, “So, what do you think?”

He looked up at me, bewildered. “Where on earth did you come up with something like this…?”

‘My left and right brains worked hard for this.’

“I had reliable colleagues helping me. More importantly, do you think this plan is worth opening that vault for?”

“It certainly has appeal. Collecting taxes from the lower classes in some way has long been the lord’s problem. But whether His Lordship will authorize a reform of the excise tax is another matter…”

“I’ll persuade him somehow.”

“Somehow…”

His voice was full of doubt.

I smiled slyly.

‘He should already know how persuasive my tantrums can be.’

His mouth fell open as he read my intent. “…I understand. But to be honest, I don’t have the authority to order the vault opened.”

“I know. By the rules, the authority to issue the order lies with me. I’m the current master of this castle.”

That had already come up in my conversation with Alejandro. I’d known for some time.

“Wha…? Then why have you put up such a fuss until now…?”

“What would be the point of opening the vault with nominal authority alone?”

I answered, “To make this plan succeed, the head steward and everyone at Denabi Castle must cooperate. It’s better to get them to listen to me… even if I have to throw a tantrum… than to wave power around and drag them along without a word.”

“…”

He froze.

What, what’s with that look.

“So that’s what you meant.”

“Yes. That was my intention…”

“I thought you were crazy. I never imagined you’d thought this far… I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s… fine as long as you know now.”

I’d almost ended up labeled a madman unintentionally (well, intentionally).

‘Still, my intent got through!’

Whether tantrums, fights, or protests… everything is ultimately a means. A means to bring the other party to the table.

Some people can achieve goals without dialogue… if they have enough power and authority.

‘But how lasting are achievements gained that way?’

Business is about people.

People need justification for their actions.

‘No one can stay long at work that feels unreasonable and purposeless.’

So I chose this path: I wanted everyone at Denabi Castle to notice my tantrum… and the reason behind it. Because that would give me real power.

“Now that you understand, open the vault. I’ll take exactly the 1.8 billion I earned. With that money, it might be a bit short, but I can at least pretend to run a business.”

In the end, they began moving cash as I demanded. The officials divided it by intended use and drafted checks.

‘I thought it was progressing quite fast, but the day is already nearly over.’

Damn.

According to plan, I should’ve been sprawled in front of the vault since morning.

In reality, I spent the whole morning sprawled on a bed, not the floor… because of this damn weak body!

‘Even in his thirties, Lee Jungwoo’s body may be old and ugly, but he pulled an all-nighter like a champ…’

If I get the time, I need to train this body.

The head steward came over. “Master.”

“Avenger.”

From now on, I decided to call the head steward by name. We’ll clash a lot, and using his title felt cold. He seemed about my age.

“I’m not very knowledgeable about business,” Avenger said, “but I think your plan is truly reasonable. Surprisingly so.”

“Oh? You flatter me.”

Flattery won’t get you anything. I’m flat broke.

“But I do have some questions.”

“Hm? What are they?”

“Where will you source the workforce? As you know, Denabi hasn’t officially produced alcohol in a very long time. There won’t be artisans with brewing skills.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ve already found them.”

His jaw dropped. “You’ve already found them…?”

“Yes.”

It’s a secret that a creative legal interpretation accompanied that procurement. As long as we don’t get caught, it’s fine. If we do… so be it.

“…Understood. But beyond artisans, finding general laborers won’t be easy. Ordering ingredients and equipment is possible, but recruiting people to work directly in the brewery will be difficult.”

Oh my, our young head steward. So many worries.

“I thought of that too.”

“Yes…?”

He looked as if he’d seen a ghost.

What’s so surprising? Did he think I wouldn’t prepare for that?

I told you: business is done by people.

(I didn’t say that.)

Thinking about people first is natural.

“May I ask how you intend to solve that?”

“It’s not complicated. Oh, by the way, do we have any spare chairs in the castle?”

“Chairs… you mean?”

Yes. Chairs. That’s the core of the plan.

I approached a young clerk… right in the middle of counting money. The same clerk whose tip started our moonshiner hunt.

He recognized me and sprang up. “Ah, Master! Is something the matter?”

“Ivan. Your father’s a carpenter, right? Is he busy these days?”

“Oh, are you ordering something for the brewery? But my father specializes in wheels, so large sake barrels are a bit… “

“Wheels? Exactly the talent I’m looking for! If I were a chair, I’d propose to your father! Let’s go right now!”

“Wha…?!”

“Ah, Ivan, you have work, so I’ll go myself. Ronari Arenta! Let’s head to the sawmill together!”

Ronari’s voice turned petulant. “I have a lot of work too…”

“I’ll give you overtime pay. Take all my allowance.”

“Money isn’t everything!”

Even as she said it, she jumped up to follow.

“You look tired; leave it to me and rest,” she murmured behind me. “I don’t know what you’re planning, though.”

This time I couldn’t bluff. I was truly, truly tired… running everywhere for days, then pulling an all-nighter.

‘And I was making a ruckus in front of the vault until I dropped.’

But I had to say it. “Haha. If you plan to slack off while I’m asleep, think again.”

“You’re still joking…?”

“I’m not. We have no vacations… not until we’ve cleared even a single dungeon from this land.”

A truth I couldn’t emphasize enough.

‘Where would I find time to rest? I don’t even know how much time I have left.’

I’ll say it now: I don’t know the time remaining until Shane’s death… until the mana crystallization threshold. I only know one thing: Shane dies in the prologue.

‘But when is that prologue?!’

I don’t know the month, day, or even season. I can only guess.

‘It’s set so that Shane dies in his eldest brother Jin’s arms. So he’s at least alive until Jin returns.’

Beyond that, it’s unknown.

This territory could hit the threshold in as soon as ten days… the worst case.

‘If that’s reality, all my efforts are meaningless.’

Even so, finishing everything in ten days is absurd. Set up a brewery, make and sell alcohol, then hire mercenaries to protect orchards? In ten days?

Ha. What a joke.

No matter how fast, we need at least two months.

‘So I have no choice but to bet on that…’

Leave the unavoidable to fate. Hope my struggle matters… and do my best for that possibility.

That’s all.

“So I can’t rest.”

“Phew…”

Ronari shook her head, resigned. “So why see the carpenter yourself?”

“You’ll see when we get there.”

She shook her head again.

“I want to put wheels on chairs.”

“Wheels?”

“Yes. Wheels. I want to make and distribute wheeled chairs. Start with about ten.”

“Wheeled chairs… what do you intend to use them for?”

Hearing that, I felt certain. This was the right answer.

I whistled inwardly, pulled out a notebook, and sketched the chair I knew… a wheelchair.

The carpenter tilted his head at the finished drawing.

“It’s like a cart,” I said. “But a cart that carries a person. For one person.”

“A cart that carries a person… I’m not sure. I’m not convinced this would be practical…”

Of course it’s practical. It’s not my invention.

“There are likely many people in Denabi with mobility issues. This chair is for them.”

“Ah… so that’s why the wheels…!”

In this world, wheelchairs don’t exist yet. Those who can’t walk have no way to move by themselves.

‘But what if I could make them move?’

I’d thought of it while calculating Denabi’s headcount.

‘Hey, Status Window. How many soldiers are currently serving their military duty under the Denabi government?’

421 soldiers.

A conversation from before.

Households serving in the military don’t pay the head tax. So I asked the Status Window to list non-professional soldiers currently serving.

‘421…? That’s more than I thought.’

Well over 1% of Denabi’s population. Not absurd in a domain on permanent war footing.

‘So there must be many wounded veterans with injured legs.’

Soldiers resting at home, retired veterans. What if we could use them? Turn them into workable labor?

That idea brought me here.

“Even someone with a leg injury… if seated in a wheeled chair and able to move themselves… could handle light tasks. They could carry loads on their lap and move them. What do you think? Isn’t that brilliant?”

I looked at Ronari and the carpenter. Both eyes lit up.

“Could you explain in more detail?”

Now they had the eyes of people ready to work.

“Good,” I said to the carpenter. “We don’t have time, so we’ll simply attach wheels to ordinary chairs. Large wheels the rider can grip to move, and small wheels to assist. Put handles above the backrest for when someone needs to push.”

“Yes, yes…”

The blueprint came together in an instant… far better than my clumsy sketch. My conceptual plan now felt real.

The carpenter blinked, surprised, then still tilted his head. “Why did no one ever think of something so simple until now…?”

It’s a natural thought. But the greatest innovations begin with the simplest ideas… like all inventions.

‘Oh, inventor of the wheelchair… I don’t know your name, but you’re a genius!’

At that moment, I felt someone’s gaze. They say geniuses recognize geniuses: another genius, enthralled by an old Earth-born idea.

Ronari murmured, “I was right…”

But she was under a huge delusion. She strode forward…

‘W-what…!’

… and grabbed both my hands.

“Master, you really are a madman…!”

“?!”