The Price of a Rumor
Margo was startled by Zilke’s words.
"You intend to follow the proposal of the Countess of Dernburg? My lady, that is absolutely not a good idea."
Zilke had met Karoline, the Countess of Dernburg and a lady-in-waiting to Princess Roella, two days before the salon at the Wisteria Annex was held. At that time, she had been propositioned to spread a rumor that Lady Laila was showcasing entertainers at the salon and acting as a broker for government contracts.
Back then, Zilke had refused outright. Not only did she view the Wisteria Annex salon as highly likely to fail, but the method would also place the entire burden of risk squarely on her own shoulders.
"If it is discovered that I am the source of the rumor, the foundation I have built up until now will collapse in an instant. I must decline."
"Even if you stay as you are, the pace is merely slow; there is no difference in the fact that you will collapse. Lady Zilke, the reputation you have built on trends and beauty has long since passed its expiration date."
"You are quite blunt, Countess of Dernburg."
"But if you succeed in this matter, your position will be maintained for the time being. If the Princess looks after you, it will last even longer. Do not forget who your patron is."
It was an obvious threat, and Zilke was surprised that Karoline knew that much, but she did not yield. She was confident in the track record she had built so far.
"Although I am supported by the Duchy of Schwaben, I have no reason to obey the orders of Princess Roella. Our roles are clearly different."
That was a way of saying that Princess Roella was also nothing more than a mere accessory within Schwaben, but Karoline could not deny those words. If Zilke were to reveal that Princess Roella had suppressed someone belonging to a spy organization in the name of Schwaben, Ezekiel would be furious.
In the end, Karoline left empty-handed. And Zilke intended to ignore the proposal.
However, the Wisteria Annex was a success beyond expectations. Once her anxiety had been stirred, it continued to cling to the back of her neck.
She had pondered it a little more. But her heart, which had once tilted toward doing it, did not flip back.
Zilke looked at Margo with serious eyes and said.
"If you don't take risks, you won't gain anything. Even if the time comes for me to quit, it must not be in a way where I am defeated by a woman supported by Duke Klaus."
"If that is what you think, my lady... then I have no choice but to do my best."
"Spread the rumor that Lady Laila received a business card with Luna's name and the winning bid written on it. It would be best to make it sound like a story that leaked from a laborer who frequents the Marell Troupe. You can do that, right?"
"Yes. It is not a difficult task."
Margo had a talent for spreading rumors. She had been doing various things for Zilke until now.
"Then I leave it to you. This is the down payment. Don't be stingy with it. If the rumor spreads well, I will double it by replenishing what you spent."
Zilke brought a pouch of gold coins that was always prepared in the safe and handed it to Margo.
"Do not worry."
Margo’s eyes lit up as she received the pouch.
It was the time when the twilight was deepening.
Paul Bauer counted all the day's earnings, put them in the safe, and slammed the door shut. Then he went out to the noisy outer office and shouted into the thick cigarette smoke.
"Are you guys actually working, or just hanging around like this!"
"Ah, why are you like that, Boss? We finished our work for today."
"We collected the payments, and we finished clearing the district during the day, too."
"Who went to the Keller Theater?"
"Cal and Felix went."
"Only the two of them?"
"Two is enough. It's just a job to drag out some guy throwing dung."
Paul frowned.
Currently, the biggest part of his small business was drawing lines on market stalls and maintaining order—though the market merchants might think otherwise—but it started as acting as guards for theaters.
Their main duties were to form lines when customers flocked in and to send the lead actors home safely after performances ended late at night. Nowadays, it was a job with little income, so most of his guys ignored it, but since it was the representative business field that Paul’s firm put forward in the light of day, they had to at least earn their keep.
"You, you, you, three more of you go."
"Ah, Booooss!"
When he pointed out three of them, the youngest, who had been playing cards, made a complaint-filled sound. If his hand were bad, he would have run away quickly, but seeing him act like that, it seemed he was holding a good card. The guys he was playing against were laughing and cheering.
"Go quickly."
Paul glared. The other two, who had been giggling while sipping drinks in front of the pool table, also stood up as if they had no choice. Seeing that, another man who had been sprawled out chuckled.
"What's the big deal? There are plenty of pretty girls at the Keller Theater, so you can just enjoy the view."
"What good is it if they're pretty? You can't even touch them."
Even while replying like that, the guys' gazes turned toward Paul just in case.
"The women in the theaters we have contracts with are off-limits."
Paul said strictly, as he prided himself on being a businessman who earned his keep. In the end, the three guys he pointed out trudged outside.
One of the card-playing gang, who had been saved from being picked, shuffled the cards again and said.
"Come to think of it, I heard that singers from the Marell Troupe are performing at the Schwarz tavern these days."
"Really? That's a well-known troupe. But they're sending their affiliated singers even to a tavern?"
"Schwarz is huge. It's worth performing there. It looks like the Marell Troupe has increased their new members significantly and is sending them here and there. And they don't have guards."
"Don't even think about touching a famous troupe member. It’ll become a headache because they have noble backing."
While rolling the fact that they had no guards in one corner of his mind, Paul said severely. Of course, he didn't think his words would get through to those guys, but he still had to pretend to hold the reins.
By the way, he wondered if he could somehow get a word in with the Marell Troupe. Places like the Rih Theater hired their own security guards, so he couldn't touch them, but if they were sending members even to taverns, the low-level members appearing in such places might need guards.
Income is important, but one must also maintain one's face. If he could contract with the Marell Troupe, it would be quite...
Bang!
That was when there was a loud noise from below. The moment Paul and his organization members jumped up in surprise, the office door was smashed this time.
Crash!
"Bo, Booooss..."
A faint groan followed. It was the guys he had sent to the Keller Theater a little while ago.
"Who are you guys!"
"Is it the Becker gang?!"
The organization members all at once took out knives from their pockets or ran to get the wooden clubs placed in the corner of the office.
Entering through the broken door was, unbelievably, a well-dressed noble man. In one hand, he was holding the youngest member, who had been beaten to a pulp.
It was just one person, but the intimidation completely overwhelmed the room. Even though it was seven against one, the organization members couldn't even think of attacking and flinched, stepping backward.
The man threw the youngest member to the floor lightly, as if he were throwing away trash. Someone could be heard shouting in a fluster from the stairs.
"You shouldn't go in first. We will...!"
Paul didn't miss the moment the man turned his head toward that direction and lunged.
He was a founder who had built everything with his bare hands. Although he had aged, his body had withered, and he had developed a belly compared to when he started, if his subordinates were to look down on him because of his guts and courage, his organization would be finished.
The timing wasn't bad, but he couldn't overcome the fundamental difference in strength. The man grabbed the wooden club that Paul had swung with all his might with his hand.
The man's black pupils sucked Paul in like an abyss. Without even a moment to think, Paul, who was yanked along with the club, was kicked hard in the abdomen and flew backward.
"Guh, ugh!"
"Bo, Boss!"
Paul groaned in pain. The flustered organization members called out to him. One guy who gathered his courage shouted loudly and swung a pocketknife.
"H, Hey!"
Clack.
The man didn't even try to avoid it and struck the guy's hand with the club he had taken from Paul. The dropped pocketknife rolled on the floor.
The terrified organization member tried to run away, but the man was blocking the door, and there was nothing but the president's office behind him. There was no way out other than jumping out the window.
The guys rolled their eyes, thinking that might be better. The man said in a low voice.
"Do not think you can jump out and escape. There are people all over the Reeperbahn market who remember your faces."
Everyone's faces turned deathly pale.
"Lord Theodore, I told you not to do this alone. Please open the door."
At that moment, a whining sound was heard from outside the door, and soon Jan Sommer squeezed through the broken gap.