Negotiating the Deal, Part 2
"That goes without saying — it's important," Bourbon said. "Because beyond the transaction itself, our organization hopes to use this opportunity to establish a foothold in Country H. If a local power lends us a hand, things will go much more smoothly."
"Oh~ trying to kill two birds with one stone, are we?" Kaeya considered this for a moment, then answered, "Fine by me. I never intended to hide it anyway — we're partners, after all, and honesty makes for better business. The truth is, I belong to an organization. That potion was developed by one of our members, and this deal is being struck with your organization in our name."
"You belong to an organization? What kind of organization?" Bourbon's expression flickered with genuine surprise. He truly hadn't imagined that Kaeya had another organization standing behind him. "Forgive my bluntness, but I can't quite wrap my head around it. If Mr. Kaeya's organization possesses something like this, why on earth would it bother partnering with ours?"
Truthfully, Bourbon had been puzzling over it ever since Cointreau forwarded him the brief dossier on the goods for this transaction. A potion like this practically fell within the realm of magic. Any organization that had it would hoard it like a dragon's treasure — the idea of simply trading it away made no sense at all.
"What's so surprising about it? I'm the adopted son of the Ragnvindr family, and these days the head of the house is my adoptive brother. He can barely stand the sight of me — I can't get my hands on a single thing belonging to the Ragnvindrs. A man has to keep a few cards in reserve, doesn't he?" Kaeya launched into his shameless bluff without missing a beat. "As for why we're selling — well, because these potions simply won't sell on the open market. Something with no ingredient list, no manufacturing method, nothing on paper? One look and anyone can tell it's illegal. How am I supposed to move it?"
He shrugged and pressed on. "Selling to your organization, though, is a different story. Tweak the data you'd give us a little, and you could develop skincare products or the like. Everyone knows women's and children's money is the easiest money there is. Set up a company, and the profits will come pouring in. And if your organization wants a foothold in Country H, I can talk to mine — have the company we open there form a joint venture with you. It would make your movements in the country far more convenient. What do you say?"
Bourbon stared at him. "Sell?! Why would anyone sell a potion like this?"
Kaeya looked even more astonished than Bourbon. "Why not sell it? Should we just leave it gathering dust in a warehouse?"
"......"
The corner of Bourbon's mouth twitched. He was beginning to realize that his way of thinking and this Kaeya's — no, the way of thinking of the people behind Kaeya — existed on entirely different planes.
In his eyes, a potion like this was a secret weapon, something that could buy a man an extra life at the critical moment. But Kaeya and his people only saw it as a source of revenue. Bourbon found himself genuinely wondering: did the person who actually brewed these things approve of them being squandered like this?
"Never mind — none of that matters. Let's get back to the terms," Bourbon said. Faced with Kaeya's utterly matter-of-fact expression, he had no idea how to respond, so he steered the conversation back on course. "I'm told this Life Potion comes in three grades — basic, intermediate, and advanced. Our organization would like one hundred bottles of each grade per month. In exchange, we'll provide you with regular updates on our research progress."
"No," Kaeya flatly refused. "Far too many. You of all people should understand how precious this stuff is — it's a real pain to make."
The truth was simpler: if the order got too big, Lisa would be displeased at having to brew it, and there was no forcing her to do anything. An amount she could finish in two or three days of spare moments, though — that she'd likely agree to without complaint.
"One bottle of the advanced grade, ten each of the basic and intermediate," Kaeya said, slashing the numbers down by more than half in a single stroke.
"That's far too little......"
"......"
After a long round of haggling, they finally settled on a provisional figure: five bottles of the advanced grade and twenty each of the basic and intermediate per month from Kaeya, while the Black Organization would hand over a portion of the early-stage Silver Bullet research data first, with subsequent progress delivered in monthly installments.
With the broad strokes of the agreement settled, Amuro Tooru prepared to leave — he wanted to report the results of the negotiation to Cointreau. He had no intention of falsifying the terms; something this easily verified with a single question wasn't worth the risk of tampering. That didn't mean he couldn't do a little manipulating of his own, though. At the very least, when it came to the ongoing data handovers and the potion deliveries, he could find a way to skim off a portion for the Public Security to study.
And today hadn't been without its gains, either. He now had a rough picture of the organization's new partner — and judging by what he'd seen, the Ragnvindr family in Country H did not appear to be in league with the Black Organization, which was welcome news. On the other hand, the existence of a second organization behind Kaeya was something Amuro Tooru had never anticipated.
It struck him, mid-thought, that he'd never actually asked for the organization's name. He raised it as he was on his way out, fully expecting to be stonewalled — but Kaeya tossed back a single word, "Teyvat," and shut the door behind him.
"Teyvat...? Strange name," Amuro Tooru murmured to himself, resolving to have Kazami dig up everything they could find on it the moment he got back.
Just then the door swung open again. "Oh, right — one more thing. I'm attached to Mondstadt, and my portfolio is external affairs. Don't go mixing me up with the other departments, now. Bye-bye~" With that parting remark, the door closed once more.
In the days that followed, as Kaeya and the Black Organization set their cooperation in motion — though Kaeya had yet to lay eyes on the mysterious Cointreau, and whether it was his imagination or not, he couldn't shake the feeling that Cointreau was actively avoiding him — Xiayu carried on with her commissions, step by steady step. In her free time she went out with Mouri Ran, the Detective Boys, and Edogawa Conan (mostly Edogawa Conan), running through the well-worn cycle of sightseeing, incident, police report, and case closed with the smooth efficiency of an old routine.
By now, Xiayu had built herself a modest reputation as a detective. She still couldn't figure out why no photos of her had ever surfaced, but in the end she could only chalk it up to Japan's excellent privacy protections.
Say what you would about him — Conan truly lived up to his title as a walking god of death. Nearly every day spent in his company brought some case or other stumbling across their path. Stick close to him, and the Primogems piled up fast. That was just how it worked.
Over this stretch of time, she had also grown somewhat closer to the Detective Boys' newest member, Haibara Ai — and had quietly snapped a few photos to send Diluc, asking him to reassure Miyano Akemi and keep her from doing anything rash. Those children were simply too restless for their own good; when their mischief inevitably blew up in their faces, it was often Xiayu who appeared in the nick of time to sweep up the mess.
The camping trip a few days ago was the worst of it. She'd gone out with Professor Agasa and the Detective Boys, and somehow they'd still managed to run straight into armed thugs. She'd known going in that this particular trip was cursed to go wrong, but she hadn't expected it to happen so fast — by the time she arrived on the scene, Conan had already taken a bullet. All she could do was neutralize the gunmen, then rush with Professor Agasa to get Conan to Beika General Hospital as quickly as possible.
Maybe it was her imagination, but right before Conan was wheeled into surgery, when the nurse said there was no blood of his type on hand and Mouri Ran volunteered her own, there had been something off about the look in Ran's eyes. Xiayu suspected that Ran might already be questioning who Conan really was. No — after what happened today, perhaps she'd all but confirmed it.
Truth be told, Xiayu wasn't the least bit surprised. Conan never made the slightest effort to cover his tracks — the moment a case appeared, his head would overheat and he'd charge in without a thought for anything else. It was only natural for Ran to grow suspicious. If anything, given how many people were covering for him, the real miracle was that he'd managed to keep the secret this long.