The Corrupt Supplier's Ultimatum
Just how long had it been since he'd tasted normal meat?
It had been so long he could barely remember.
"A person needs to eat at least this much to stay alive."
Was it because the food was so damn good?
His mood lifted, only for rage toward the trading company head to surge right after.
I've been putting up with those bastards for a whole week. Shit.
The bizarre slop he'd been forcing down twice a day, every day.
After this meal, the thought of going back to that crap made him want to puke.
I have to fix this.
This wasn't a matter of choice or effort.
He had to do it.
Scraaaape!
He'd polished off a plate of meat and was reviewing the documents he'd brought when the door flew open without warning. A middle-aged man strode in.
Seeing Colvet standing behind him made the intruder's identity obvious: Alonso, head of the trading company.
"You're quicker than I expected. I figured it'd take at least an hour. Were you nearby?"
Barging in without knocking was as good as a declaration of war, so Palan laced his words with a bite.
"I was in the ingredients warehouse. I personally inspect everything that comes in every day. Unless someone drags me out."
The man plopped into the chair opposite, glaring daggers.
He'd clearly heard all about Palan's actions on the way over.
Personal inspections? Is this guy a comedian? And what's with the informal speech?
Nothing about him sat right, from one to ten.
"Personal inspections, huh. So that's why the warehouse is overflowing with junk?"
"What did you say?"
Alonso's eyes bulged as he fixed Palan with a murderous stare.
"I figured you weren't inspecting because there was so much rotten meat. Or was it on purpose? Tampering with military supplies means summary execution…"
BOOM!
"You little punk with no blood under your nails, threatening me without proof?! Do you know who my platoon mates are?!"
Unable to hold back, he slammed his fist on the table and bellowed.
"Who cares who."
"Major Belburk, current 2nd Legion commander, was in my platoon! One letter from me and your military career is over—want me to do it?!"
His face puffed up like he'd played an invincible card.
But Palan took it a whole different way.
End my military service…? Sounds perfect.
No, really—one letter to escape this hell? A goddamn angel.
"Please do it. I've been sick of this filthy, cramped army life."
"You mocking me?! You wanna block your own promotion?!"
"Block it. Please. I'm begging you."
He meant it sincerely, but the guy thought he was joking.
"You insolent little…"
His face flushed red as he fumed.
Looked like they weren't close enough for him to actually write that letter.
Shouldn't have gotten my hopes up.
No savior, no mercy.
"If we can't talk this out, I'll have to hand this to the auditors. Shall we call it here?"
He placed the documents he'd been reviewing on the desk where Alonso could see.
- Ongoing violations of multiple contract terms by Alonso Trading Company, responsible for ingredient deliveries since two years ago, including consistent delivery of substandard food supplies.
- Over the past week, ingredient costs compared to market prices show only 5 silver out of the 15 silver daily per-soldier meal budget being used. (Documents attached)
- Per Contract Article 3, Clause 1: Substandard ingredients must be replaced with equivalent quality items.
- Alonso Trading Company has repeatedly delivered rotten meat alongside orders but never once provided compensation.
.
.
- Simple calculations estimate unjust profits exceeding 10,000 gold.
A ten-page denunciation.
The masterpiece born from a week of late nights.
Worth switching to admin clerk in my twilight years.
Who knew drafting ass-covering reports for officers would pay off like this?
"Wh…what the hell is this?"
Alonso skimmed it, his hands shaking.
"You should've stuck to the code of 'even dogs get a cut.' Thought you could handle the fallout?"
"Ha! So you're reporting this to auditors? Think the chief auditor can touch me? As I said…"
"Mister, you have no idea how the army works right now."
Not knowing was normal, though.
Military veteran or not, he was a reservist now—just a trading head.
"It's an imperial audit period. Even generals vanish overnight. You think a reserve colonel like you survives?"
Even with killer connections, reporting straight to the treasury via family would end him.
"You're lying…"
"Check with your big-shot friends. But if you leave now, no second chances."
One word—"audit"—and Alonso's bluster deflated.
"Ready to talk now?"
"What do you want? Money?"
"Ha!"
These idiots still didn't get it.
"You've been trying shady shit on me, but you think I'm short on cash?"
No one ignorant of Oclo Trading Company could be anything but a fool.
"Then what do you want from me."
"Hand over your entire share of the company."
Thud!
Overflowing with rage, maybe.
Alonso reddened and slammed the table again.
"Can't negotiate like that."
"Even with your weakness in my hands, there's a line. The whole company? I was a fool for taking a kid seriously."
"Can you handle me reporting this? I'll bury it if you just hand over the company—sounds like a sweet deal."
By the book, he'd skip the talk and report straight.
But his buried patriotism gave the guy a shot, and this was the response.
Utterly disappointing.
"Do it if you can. But I won't go down alone."
"Hmm, too bad. Negotiations failed."
His attitude said more talk was pointless.
Bribe him and it might work, but no need.
Paying a criminal? Against his conscience.
"Wanna survive the army? Stay quiet."
"That's why you never promoted."
A light jab, but the reaction was huge.
"You rude little…! How dare you!"
He bolted from the restaurant like the man might lunge, straightening his uniform outside.
"Guess not having bars on his shoulder still stings."
Guys with personalities like that usually climbed fast—someone worse must've blocked him.
This just got messy.
He'd wanted a quick resolution; now it'd drag.
No choice. Time to invest effort.
Still early, he headed to the Oclo Trading Company western headquarters nearby.
"Wh…? Ah! Young master!!!"
An employee spotted him entering the three-story building and bowed deeply.
He'd barely worked the company, yet they recognized him—surprising.
"Is the branch chief in?"
"He's out, but not far. I'll have him come right away."
"Thanks."
"Y-yes, sir!"
Dozens of staff bustled; he headed naturally to the chief's office.
Damn, nice office.
Western HQ chief—top ten in company hierarchy.
Better make nice while I can.
High chance he'd stick to the west; connections were key.
Knock knock!
"It's Haiyel. May I come in?"
"Come in."
The office's true owner opened after knocking.
"Long time no see, young master."
A white-haired man showing his age.
Name hadn't clicked, but face brought memories flooding.
Haiyel the advisor. Didn't expect him here.
The legend who'd turned the lagging magic tool division into industry leader in ten years.
Thought he'd retired from front lines.
Last memory: advisor role, comfy retirement.
"Yeah, really been ages. Haven't seen you lately—didn't know you were here."
"The head insisted for an important matter; couldn't refuse."
"Dad's a real pain."
"Haha, means I'm still useful. Secretly pleased."
"Grateful for your dedication to the company."
"Not like you, serving in the army. So, what brings you unannounced?"
Haiyel asked with genuine curiosity.
"Got a favor to ask. Mind sitting? It'll take a bit."
Mindful of his age, Palan seated him on the sofa and explained the business plan from the last two days.
"Hm."
"Soldiers' meals are a huge issue. Step in and fix it a bit, and our image skyrockets."
"Quite right."
Haiyel nodded, eyes shifting—more respect now.
Not a bad reaction.
But no complacency.
Veteran merchant; had to make financial sense.
"Profitable too. 20% margin nets 600 gold a day, and troop numbers grow daily with the war."
"Plus word spreads, other sites expand… Excellent."
Profit verified; persuasion nearly done.
"Key is absorbing Alonso Trading Company from the current contract."
"Alonso? First I've heard."
"Lowlifes leeching off military supply connections."
Now, the fresh encounter with Alonso: the rudeness, insults.
Haiyel's reaction was predictable.
"Such arrogant scum! Daring to spew filth at you!"
"Calm down. It pissed me off, but I'm fine."
Not really, but stay cool—that's the play.
"Can't let this slide."
"Obviously. So follow my lead from here."
"Hm, got a plan?"
Anger faded quick; Haiyel eyed him expectantly.