Picking the Perfect Gift
Garen had made an outstanding choice by asking me.
"The gold necklace? Won't it be a bit too flashy for her?"
"That's exactly why it's perfect. Even if they pretend it's too much at first, all women love it."
"Is that so?"
"Absolutely."
Garen nodded as if he'd finally gotten it.
"Anything else besides that?"
"Hmm."
He seemed to want to mull it over more and asked about other options.
Luxury bags that women love, besides gold necklaces.
Maratang popped into my head, but sadly, I didn't know the recipe or ingredients.
"How about a designer handbag?"
My desperately pondered second candidate: a luxury handbag.
The odds of this failing? Basically zero percent.
If men have computers, women have designer bags.
Who could hate getting one of these?
Impossible.
"You think Colonel Orpia would like something so extravagant?"
"Come on, who in the world doesn't love luxury goods?"
What even is a luxury item?
A high-quality product crafted by artisans.
Hating that? That's a personal problem.
"But why a bag, of all things? For people like us, a sword would be better."
I nearly sighed at Garen's words.
Buddy, not everyone in the world is sword-obsessed like you.
He really had no clue about women.
No wonder he was still single in a world where even late marriages happened by mid-twenties.
Garen was truly saved by meeting someone like me.
"Colonel Garen, this is just basic protocol. It's foolproof."
"R-Really?"
"Yes. I'll contact the trading company right away and get the best luxury bag prepared quickly."
"You don't have to go that far."
"Come on, are we just ordinary acquaintances? We're mentor and student."
The lessons were hell, but he was a connection worth keeping.
"I can only say thank you. Let me know the cost."
"Of course. That way, it's a gift from you, Colonel."
A Special Forces colonel? His salary had to be pretty hefty, from what I knew.
A luxury bag should be pocket change.
And even if it wasn't, it wasn't my money.
If I send the letter today, it'll take at least two days to arrive.
He had to stick around until the bag arrived anyway, so a perfect favor came to mind.
"By the way, Colonel Garen, there's something I'd like to ask."
"Anything! Just say the word!"
His booming voice sounded ready to grant any wish.
He looked genuinely thrilled, a rare sight.
"One of my subordinates, Lieutenant Aisa—could you give her some swordsmanship pointers?"
"That lieutenant from the Lintun Marquis family?"
"Yes, exactly."
"I have to head back in a week, but sure, until then. If the major's asking, how can I refuse?"
"Thank you."
One question, and I'd nailed both the favor and his departure date.
"Speaking of which, I promised to check your form too. When are you free?"
Garen had asked me about scheduling for the first time ever.
I need to finish the Hamus assignment before he leaves.
I quickly ran through my mental calendar.
"How about tomorrow at 3 PM?"
"Perfect—right after training, before dinner."
A chill ran down my spine at his words.
Dinner's usually at 6, so he's planning three hours of training?
Just imagining it made my legs shake—it was beyond horrific.
"Uh... how about 4?"
"A man doesn't go back on his word. I'll see you at the training grounds at 3."
Was his intent that obvious?
The friendly mask slipped, revealing the Garen I knew.
"Y-Yes... 3 PM it is."
"Haha, that's the spirit. Thanks again for the help. Carry on."
"Sir."
Garen left the company commander's office with a friendly grin.
"Phew, 3 PM tomorrow."
I turned to the stack of documents still piled on my desk.
"No early night tonight, either."
I drafted the letter to the trading company and handled paperwork until 11 PM before finally heading home.
Thanks for managing the increasingly busy Bolib branch. It's nothing major, but I'm planning to set up a BBQ spot in the battalion. It won't generate much profit, but selling meat on-site...
Please procure a luxury bag popular with women in their 30s. Ideally under 20 gold based on our purchase price.
Oh, and look into BBQ equipment—prices and the best makers. Always working tirelessly day and night for the trading company...
"Branch Manager!!!"
Early morning, an employee burst into the Oclo Trading Company Bolib branch manager's office without knocking.
"What? What's going on?"
Branch Manager Pennell glared at the intruder, pulling his eyes from the ledgers.
"A... a letter from Young Master Palan Oclo."
"Really?!"
Pennell shot up from his seat.
"Here it is."
He snatched the letter, tore open the seal, and pulled out the contents.
I thought it might never come, but thank goodness.
Truth be told, Pennell had waited daily for a letter since hearing Palan was with the 32nd Division.
This branch was the closest—he'd eventually need their help.
I've waited far too long.
When months passed without word, he'd worried they were unaware of the Bolib branch.
All groundless fears.
"Wonder what's inside."
Brimming with anticipation, Pennell read the letter carefully.
All things I can handle immediately.
Thankfully, no tough requests.
But Pennell wasn't one to squander a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
I need to score extra points here.
Everyone knew Palan Oclo was next in line for trading company lord.
The heir apparent.
Impress him, and branch manager could become HQ manager.
"The bag's the priority. Right now, Ottique's the hottest, right?"
Ottique: the luxury brand debutantes lined up for.
Issues? Stock and price.
"Go check with Brit if we have any Ottique bags in inventory and report back."
"Yes, sir!"
The employee left with the letter. Soon, inventory manager Brit entered.
"You called?"
"About what I said."
"We have one mini bag and one shopper bag."
"Prices? Our purchase cost from Ottique."
"Mini bag at 30 gold, shopper at 40. Cheap lines, not too pricey."
"Ugh."
Not bad, but over Palan's 20-gold limit.
"What's wrong?"
"No Ottique bags around 20 gold?"
"Lowest lines, maybe. Want me to source one?"
"How long?"
"Fastest? Three days..."
"No."
A merchant wasting three days on a bag? Might as well beg for firing.
"But Branch Manager, doesn't purchase price just need to be under 20 gold?"
Brit spoke up first, as if struck by genius.
"True."
"I'm not certain, but Ottique VIPs get discounts."
"Really?"
As a commoner, Pennell had no clue about luxury VIP perks.
"Plus various discounts if lucky—should hit around 20 gold."
A lot glossed over, but to Pennell now, it sounded brilliant.
"Right? Luxury brands discount too."
"Of course. Off-season in high society? They hand 'em out like meals."
Ultra-brands like Ottique had no off-season, but facts didn't matter now.
"Brilliant. Settled on the bag."
Pennell then summoned food supplies manager Nelt and relayed Palan's requests.
"They want meat sales on base. Possible?"
"Possible, but meat-only trips? Guaranteed loss."
"Ugh."
Heir or not, loss-making deals risked trouble.
"Or, Branch Manager, I've got an idea."
"Idea?"
"Yes. Secure a food supplies contract for that unit. Sell meat on the side."
"Feasible?"
"Just negotiate. Military won't object."
"Perfect. Check it out now."
"Yes, sir!"
The branch buzzed busier than ever to fulfill Palan's requests—and more.
But Pennell felt uneasy.
What else to impress him?
He had to etch his name in Palan's mind.
"Phew. Better visit in person."
Late evening, but to save even an hour, Pennell grabbed the bag and boarded a carriage himself.
Slice.
"Impressive for your level—exceptional, even."
Garen inspected the cleanly severed scarecrow stump, offering rare praise.
"Really?"
I'd braced for the usual "pathetic," so this caught me off guard.
Not the gift influence post-training. He's sincere.
Fair enough—I'd poured everything into perfecting that flat cut lately.
"Not now, but when I first saw Lieutenant Derek, he was about this level."
"Oh..."
High praise.
"Yet you want to improve further right here?"
"Yes. I want to reach your level, Colonel Garen."
"Hmm. What suddenly hooked you on this? The major has plenty of other weaknesses."
Garen looked baffled.
It's homework—what can I do?
I wanted to spill the truth, but no dice.
"At least get basics to pro level before advancing swordsmanship. That way, no bad habits."
"Oh..."
I laid out universally applicable logic convincingly, and Garen gaped in admiration.