The Chaotic Back-Alley Sweep Operation!
"Six million dinars in total. So this is the full amount the Red Fang can put up right now?"
"The goods themselves are worth far more than that, but six million is all we can pay on the spot."
Fenril answered while carefully reviewing the inventory of valuables Freyja had prepared.
"Every last piece is the kind of treasure that sells for whatever price you name. Looking at the eventual return, even doubling the figure wouldn't be enough — but I can guarantee at least three times what I'm offering now."
"…I see."
To secure the capital she needed most at this moment, Freyja had stripped the Evergarden Count family of every precious thing it owned — and the result left her more astonished than she had imagined.
Even sold secondhand, the valuables she had scraped together were absurdly expensive. The count's household had been nothing short of a piggy bank.
Then how flush with cash was Evergarden Territory to begin with — and how did they manage to wreck that thriving treasury this thoroughly in just a few years?
Every time the thought crossed her mind, Freyja could only despise the original owners of this body. They had bled the family dry buying expensive junk, and even after setting aside the pieces that would never turn a profit on resale, the remaining value was still this high. It was almost laughable.
"So I'd like to settle the total transaction at twenty-seven million dinars…"
"An advance of six million, with the balance paid over time. Is that correct?"
"Moving this much inventory is going to take a while no matter what. The good news is none of it is contraband, and with a noble's authentication papers attached, the process should go faster — but even so, you're looking at a solid two or three years."
"……"
"Well? What do you say, my lady?"
"I accept."
She's lowballing me pretty hard, but there's nothing I can do about it. We're the ones in a hurry. Evergarden Territory needs these six million dinars right now.
Freyja understood perfectly well that Fenril's offer left her on the losing end of the deal — and she stamped the confirmation papers all the same.
The jewelry itself meant nothing to them. Money was tight, but restoring the territory came first. If she could get the fief functioning again, she could multiply that sum many times over later.
"Any issues with the documents?"
"…You're pretty tough, you know that? I figured you'd pick at least one or two nits."
Watching Freyja stamp and hand over the papers without a moment's hesitation, Fenril asked with a flicker of bewilderment.
"Spoiling the mood isn't really my style. And if a problem does come up, we can always deal with it then."
"…Fair enough. Stupid question."
"Heh."
The answer she got — Go ahead and try something if you want. Just don't expect me to cover for you afterward — sent a cold bead of sweat sliding down the back of Fenril's neck.
Good thing I didn't try any tricks.
All those past hours spent clawing for every scrap of advantage over each other through underhanded means suddenly felt pointless. Paradoxically, someone who already sat in a position of absolute strength had no need to do anything at all — and that, Fenril realized, was exactly what it meant to be the stronger party.
"Well then, that settles the deal. I'll have my people deliver the funds within a few days."
Fenril collected her signed copy of the two documents and was just about to leave when —
"Oh my. The transaction isn't finished yet. Leaving so soon?"
"Transaction…? I'm not sure we have anything left that would be useful to you, my lady."
Freyja held her back, insisting the deal was not yet done, and continued.
"The district where the Red Fang has made its nest… frankly, it's a thorn in my side. What lord would welcome a criminal outfit squatting openly in their own territory?"
"…I suppose not, my lady."
"Which is why I intend to lead a full military force and carry out a purge operation."
"…Ha. You've got to be kidding me."
Fenril let out a hollow laugh at Freyja's declaration. The same woman who had been smiling and doing business with her moments ago had just announced she was going to smash Fenril's own stronghold. How was anyone supposed to take that calmly?
"Rather than leave people who pay no taxes and bring the territory nothing but trouble, wouldn't it be better to get a little blood on our hands and put the remaining district to far more productive use?"
"And once we've razed what's left and rebuilt usable structures on the ruins, that means jobs — and income for the territory's craftsmen. Now that we finally have capital, there's no reason to hesitate."
For Freyja, this declaration would become the first foothold of her territory-revival project. With funds in hand, the most urgent task was to invest in the fief while the money was still available — and this was the perfect method.
A clear justification for sweeping out a criminal organization, job creation built on that work, and a path toward improving the lives of the territory's people. All of it lined up.
"And here is my proposal. Fenril — won't you come work for me?"
"…That's one hell of an offer, my lady."
At the proposal that followed, Fenril's legs nearly gave out. She sat back down and faced Freyja again.
"When I looked at you, I was rather impressed. Your command of the organization, the independent routes you've carved out, even your role as an information broker handling countless pieces of intelligence… How does talent like yours end up stuck playing boss in the back alleys of some rural border territory?"
"…Hell if I know. The bastard who called himself my parent never even showed his face once for me to ask."
"But your origins and circumstances simply cannot support that talent. The stigma of being a criminal and of low birth will follow you for the rest of your life."
"…Once that label stuck to me whether I wanted it or not, this was the only road left."
"Do you understand that administrative authority over this territory rests solely with me… or more precisely, with the head of the house? And that with that discretion, I can scrub clean a cute little dog who's gotten filthy rolling around in the gutters — and fasten around her neck the honorable collar of a knight of the Count's family?"
"…So now I'm a dog, full stop? For the record, I'm a wolf."
"Oh my, a wolf? What a magnificent loyal hound you'll make for a knight."
"Ha… give me a break…"
The more Freyja talked, the more absurd it all seemed to Fenril. In a way, it was the pure, childlike behavior of someone who simply wanted things done her way. Looking at a woman stained black with blood and offering not mere patronage but outright employment without a shred of hesitation — it was no different from a child's tantrum.
To follow her would mean tearing down with her own hands every scrap of reputation and every carefully built tower she had struggled to raise in the underworld. She would have to persuade her subordinates, and the underworld would brand her a traitor, tearing at her and hunting her at every turn.
She could be satisfied right here. She had invested a considerable sum, but if she succeeded in selling off all these goods, she would enjoy a fortune she had never possessed before. And joining the Count's household would mean she could no longer rake in the profits she had been making from the underworld — that much was obvious.
But was throwing away this chance the right call?
The opportunity to go from a criminal, a lowborn wolf of the back alleys, to a knight of a count's house was vanishingly rare.
What do I do… which choice should I make…
"Ah, and for the record — even if you become my knight, the profits from this transaction can simply be recognized as your personal funds—"
"Forgive my rudeness. I, Fenril, hereby pledge to stand against all who threaten House Evergarden, and to serve as a loyal knight safeguarding the peace of the family and the territory."
"Oh my. That was fast."
Fenril, who had been drowning in agonized deliberation over Freyja's offer, dropped to one knee the instant she heard that her private assets would be recognized. She moved so quickly that several seconds passed after she knelt before the chair she had been sitting in toppled over behind her with a noisy clatter.
Honor up to this point? Uncertainty about the future?
In the end, none of it stood a chance against money.
"Very well. The formal knighting ceremony will need to be scheduled properly for a later date… but for now, shall we try this?"
Watching with genuine interest, Freyja rose from her seat and held up the quill pen in her hand.
"I cannot speak for others, but to me this pen is both sword and armament. You, as a knight who serves her master, shall uphold three vows."
Ordinarily, one would raise a blade while declaring a knight's three vows — but Freyja's greatest weapon was a pen, and in this moment she was entirely sincere.
Freyja's quill brushed lightly across Fenril's right shoulder.
"As a knight of House Evergarden, do you resolve to act with compassion and devotion?"
"Yes. I do."
The quill brushed lightly across Fenril's left shoulder.
"Do you have the courage to press forward through any hardship in pursuit of your ideals?"
"Yes. I do."
Finally, Freyja's quill rested upon Fenril's head.
"As a knight of House Evergarden, do you resolve to offer me your loyalty and your honor?"
"…Yes. I swear it."
"Then I, Freyja Evergarden, take you as my knight."
"I shall serve with all my loyalty."
"…Heh. I've always wanted to try that at least once. Thank you for giving me such a lovely opportunity."
"Not at all. The honor is mine."
With that, the private little investiture held in their secret meeting came to an end, and Freyja smiled with a thoroughly delighted expression.
Meanwhile, the cocky attitude Fenril had worn until now had vanished without a trace. Eyes sparkling from a thorough dose of financial therapy, she barely managed to keep her twitching mouth under control as she switched to formal speech.
Knighthood really is a man's romance. Coming to this fantasy world, this is the first time I've felt like one of my dreams actually came true.
Why does a man's heart race at the word knight? Perhaps because that single word holds romance, idealism, upright loyalty, and courage all at once.
Freyja felt that tonight — a night that had filled both her personal fantasy and her practical interests — had been a truly meaningful day.
What followed was simple.
After formally installing Fenril as a knight of the Count's house, Freyja arranged for the Red Fang members to be hired under her command — swallowing the entire Red Fang organization whole.
And once the Red Fang had been absorbed, all that remained was to use military force to thoroughly purge the back alleys she no longer had any use for. Perfect.
Excluding the newly absorbed Red Fang numbers, the Count family's official forces numbered roughly fifty-two. Under ordinary circumstances they were deployed as-is, and when something major erupted, the territory's people were conscripted to fill the ranks.
Even a single soldier required weapons, equipment, and wages. Maintaining a large force demanded enormous sums of money, so outside of wartime most territories operated under similar constraints.
That meant the force she could raise immediately was all she had. But even against people who made their living through murder and crime, her side crushed them in both combat power and equipment. Criminals playing with daggers and blades might as well have been waving toothpicks compared to the gear issued to a single proper soldier.
And if things went sideways, there was always the reliable Gordon. Freyja judged there would be no problem at all.
And so the cleaning of Evergarden Territory's back alleys was supposed to begin at once…
"My lord! I beg you to rescind that order!"
"…What's that guy going on about?"
"…Haaah."
When the very knight who was supposed to carry out the order dug in her heels and opposed it with everything she had, another sigh slipped from Freyja's lips.