Chapter 19
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: How to Deal with Uninvited Guests (1)
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"You don't need my help?"
A flurry of question marks popped up in Count Sinclair's mind.
Normally, one should jump at the offer of help, but a refusal?
"Yes, my lord. I don't need help. Instead, please invest in us."
"...Invest?"
"If you provide the initial funds, I'll return them with a profit later on."
"Hahaha! Well, now... Aren't you far more entertaining than I expected!"
The lord burst into loud laughter.
"The world is full of people trying to pick my pockets, and here you are proposing a deal? And promising to return it with interest, no less?"
"Yes."
"Very well. A deal must have terms, of course. You've got something in mind, don't you?"
"Of course."
Dominic carefully pulled out a few sheets of paper he'd kept tucked safely in his bosom and handed them to the butler.
The document was written in tiny, meticulous script, but the count skimmed the key points in an instant, nodding with utmost satisfaction.
"You need money but hate interference, eh? Excellent. You've got to have that kind of guts! It shall be as you wish. Order the treasurer to execute the investment!"
"Yes, my liege."
"Set the repayment term at ten years, and the interest a bit lower than the bank guilds' average. In the end, if Evergreen grows, it'll benefit me too."
At the lord's words, the clerk's pen began to fly across the page.
"My liege, how shall we handle the business plan?"
"No need. Isn't this as good as having the plan already? Now I see I was about to waste a capable administrator in the kitchens."
"You flatter me."
The count mused that his territory might soon boast a landmark even the haughty nobles of the capital would envy.
And so, both parties concluded their satisfactory deal.
"When the hell did you prepare those documents?"
"What? ...Oh, that?"
Dominic, who had borrowed the kitchen from the head chef with permission to raid the ingredient storeroom for anything he pleased, had just gotten a sack of rice from Anton, who was thriving in the direct territory market. He steamed it into rice cakes and pulled them into garaetteok.
"Ehehe, these lack the chewiness I hoped for. Next time, I need to order a custom mold from the blacksmith. I know a guy."
"Answer me first."
"How can you talk business with tteokbokki right in front of you? You're a strange one. Not gonna eat any?"
The rice cakes were a bit misshapen, but simmered in a thick red sauce with cabbage, green onions, and other veggies, they looked quite presentable.
"I resented getting dragged away without even tasting this. I wanted it so bad."
The tteokbokki he'd left behind untouched due to the countess's postpartum care! Night after night, dreams of that chewy, spicy flavor had left him drooling.
That tteokbokki had surely been scarfed down by Kallon, that bald uncle of his.
"Here goes... Hot! Hot hot! Whew, fhoo—."
He shoved a mouthful in too hastily, scalding the roof of his mouth, but that was nothing. Dominic grabbed a fork in one hand and a spoon in the other, launching into battle mode.
The chewy rice cake texture hit first, followed by the sharp garlic aroma and the spicy kick of chili powder.
"Udon noodles, or at least some pasta strands in a pinch! Why didn't I think of that?"
Muttering to himself, Dominic split a boiled egg in half. The well-cooked yolk cracked open, and red sauce poured over it.
"Ahh! That's the stuff!"
Gurgle—.
Ian’s stomach let out a rare growl at the sight of Dominic devouring his food like a beast.
Ian hadn't eaten since breakfast either.
As Dominic's watcher and bodyguard, he couldn't very well eat alone while Dominic skipped meals.
"Don't just stand there—come eat. It's a bit spicy, but that's how it's supposed to be. Don't complain it was poorly made; I'm warning you ahead of time."
"...Answer first."
"You're stubbornly odd. Ah, of course it was. Right after the event, I went back to the kitchen and wrote up the documents."
"You anticipated the lord would summon you?"
"Yeah, more or less."
"And if he hadn't? Were you just going to give up?"
"We've got old man Anton and the merchant guild. The interest is steep, but borrowing from the bank would've been fine too."
Dominic shrugged.
"Either way, we can't be the ones bowing low. That's how investments work. You're the one desperate, but if you act too subservient, they get suspicious. 'Is this guy scamming me? Is this business legit?'"
"..."
"That's the wisdom of life, right? For a knight who's like a rose in a greenhouse... Oops!"
This time, the words slipped out for real.
He clapped a hand over his mouth, but what was said couldn't be unsaid.
His eyes darted around, gauging Ian's reaction, but contrary to expectations, Ian just stood there frozen in place.
"...If the tteokbokki's too spicy, want me to whip up some cream stew?"
"...No need."
He'd worried Ian was mad and tried to smooth it over, but thankfully, it seemed he was letting it slide.
'Watch your mouth, watch your mouth!'
Dominic needlessly mimed slicing his throat.
"That young punk Anton's been doing well lately, huh?"
"Yes, boss. At first, he brought in some unheard-of seaweed and sold it, but now he's sourcing all sorts of ingredients from who-knows-where and turning a tidy profit."
"What the hell have you idiots been doing all this time? You should've nipped that thunderbolt-headed freak in the bud before he started strutting around!"
"I-It all happened so fast..."
A skinny middle-aged man with a goatee grabbed his underlings like rats. They endured his tirade, heads bowed, hoping it would end soon, not daring to retort even to the insults.
"I, Rondo, can't lose market share to some snot-nosed kid not even twenty! Say something, you useless bastards!"
Rondo, leader of the Rondo Merchant Group, dominated the ingredient trade in Count Sinclair's territory—second to none, unless challenged.
He didn't deal in noble-grade luxuries, but if Rondo raised prices, commoners' tables nearby would lose even side dishes.
"Should we grab that Anton punk and shake him down? Tell him to get out of our turf?"
"Hey, you bastard! Am I a thug? I've been running a legit business for over ten years—still talking like that? Need a beating to straighten up?"
"S-Sorry, boss!"
"Call me captain! Get out, you punk!"
But great influence didn't mean honest dealings.
The Rondo Merchant Group had roots in the Rondo Mercenary Band.
Evergreen's Fishing Cooperative was Kallon’s merc band, but the two were night and day.
Rondo's "mercs" were little more than brigands.
Over a decade ago, they'd lucked into plundering a major caravan and pivoted to merchants, but their bad habits lingered.
"...But could we rough him up?"
As expected, Rondo's true colors slipped out.
"Wouldn't be easy, would it? His old man's a seasoned merchant with noble connections."
"Damn! Useless. Any other ideas?"
"Torch his place? That Heinz or Hounds guy folded after we burned his warehouse, right, boss... er, captain?"
"Fire? We nearly got caught by the guards last time. Too risky. You want me rotting in jail at my age?"
"S-Sorry!"
"No brains around here. What a life!"
"...Captain."
Someone cautiously spoke up as Rondo clutched his chest.
"Word is, Anton's boom is thanks to that tiny fishing village Evergreen's village chief. That seaweed they made edible? His doing."
"Oh?"
"Yes. Hit the chief, and Anton stumbles, right?"
"Nice thinking. You handle it. While you're at it, snag that seaweed supply if you can."
"Yes. Can I use the workers?"
"Of course. Drag 'em all and cripple that chief. The fishermen will fall in line. Prep a contract for the next chief's thumbprint too."
"Yes, captain!"
A grin finally cracked the goatee's face.
It was their standard play for small villages. A little muscle outside guard reach sealed "good deals."
This was how Rondo had grown.
That night, Rondo's workers gathered to wrap it up quick.
"Is that for real, Dominic?"
"Told you it is."
"Is this a dream or reality? The lord's investing in our village? Wow! I knew I had an eye for people! I believed in you becoming a great chief. Uhahaha!"
Back in the village, Dominic's investment deal news sparked cheers.
He fended off celebratory tosses with, "This is a copy—the original's at the lord's castle," distracting the burly uncles.
Kallon especially beamed at the lord's signed, stamped contract.
The Fishing Cooperative members beside him felt the same, fiddling with the parchment and murmuring, "Our village is really gonna change!" in pure joy.
"You’re holding it upside down."
"Oh, am I? Uhahaha! Happens when you're alive!"
They still couldn't read, of course.
"With funds secured, let's ramp up construction. The aunties are pros at seaweed harvesting and processing now, so we won't need many there."
"Right. Put Fishing Cooperative folks on construction, hire guild artisans for the rest. Money was the issue; finding them's easy."
"Great. We need healers and midwives too..."
"I'll handle that. Reliable ones. Better than you, who's not even married, let alone a dad. Uhahaha!"
"...It's not that I couldn't; I didn't. Anyway, happy day—shall we grill some meat? Gotta eat and drink on days like this."
"Woooah! Dominic!"
"Meat! Meat!"
Flames roared in the cooking yard's hearth in seconds. They moved fastest for this.
'Can't stop 'em.'
Chuckling, Dominic hauled out smoked meat chunks from storage. Villagers, hearing the news, brought ingredients and joined, turning it into a festival.
Neigh—
Clop clop, clop clop.
Until the distant hoofbeats sounded.