Chapter 271
Chapter 271
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 271
Chapter Title: ABC(1)
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Ding-a-ling.
As Oliver pushed open the restaurant door, the bell chimed cheerfully to greet him.
He hadn't noticed before, but now that he looked, even after moving to this new location, they were still using the same old bell.
What could he say... It felt oddly welcoming. Though he couldn't quite put his finger on why.
"Welcome, Mr. Dave. Sorry for dragging you out so late at night."
Despite the late hour, Al showed no signs of fatigue as he greeted him with perfect courtesy.
Even after all this time getting to know each other, the man was as steadfast as ever.
"No, it's fine. Lord Forrest wouldn't call me out here for nothing... That said, are you holding up okay, Al? I thought you worked days too."
"Thank you for your concern. But I'm good, really—no need to worry. My weekly pay's gone up, and I get extra allowances on top. Plus, the tips are rolling in."
Al patted the pocket on his shirt.
"...You're joking, right?"
"Half-joking."
Al replied with a smile. Oliver nodded.
With their brief pleasantries exchanged, Al naturally gestured toward a table and invited him to follow.
"If it's alright, may I show you to your seat? Your guest is waiting."
"Ah, sure, lead the way."
"Thank you. This way, please."
Oliver followed Al's lead past the first-floor and second-floor dining halls toward the private rooms in the back. Along the way, a familiar sensation caught his eye.
"By the way... Mind if I ask who the guest is?"
"Paul Carver from the City's Internal Affairs Department."
Al had whispered it cautiously, but the words rang true.
Stepping into one of the elegantly decorated private rooms—far more refined than the main halls—Oliver spotted Paul Carver, the city official.
The very same Paul Carver he'd dealt with back during the contaminated zone cleanup and the assignment outside city limits.
"Thanks for coming."
Carver, who had been eating at a table draped in a pristine white cloth, greeted Oliver.
Even at this late hour, he was digging into a meat pie, while Forrest, seated beside him, sipped his coffee and welcomed Oliver with a nod.
"Sorry to call you out so late."
"No, it's fine. I came because I could, so don't worry about it."
Forrest nodded and gestured to the seat across from Carver.
Oliver sat as directed.
"Long time no see, Mr. Carver. Good to see you. How've you been?"
Carver raised one eyebrow at the greeting.
"Busy as usual, but hanging in there... More importantly, thanks for the warm welcome. Most fixers pull a face the second they see someone from our side."
"Is that so? Why's that?"
Oliver asked out of genuine curiosity. Forrest fielded the question.
"City officials usually show up to hand out the tough jobs."
It could've come off as rude, but Carver didn't deny it. If anything, he was more blunt.
"Exactly. The City typically calls on you folks for the annoying, dirty work—like cleaning contaminated zones... Or even dirtier, more dangerous stuff."
Blunt but refreshingly straightforward. Oliver pressed on.
"That why you're here today?"
"Yes. And it's closer to the latter."
The latter—something dirtier and more dangerous... From Carver's words and emotional state, it didn't seem like something he could refuse.
The City usually strong-armed cooperation anyway, so it wasn't all that surprising.
"Mind if I ask what it's about?"
"Of course."
Carver set aside his half-eaten meat pie and pulled a file from the bag beside him, sliding it across to Oliver.
A stack of documents of moderate thickness, stamped with the words ABC Investment Company on top.
"Ever heard of ABC Investment Company, Mr. Dave?"
"Sure. The one founded by Shamus—who runs Leaf Loan—and the female investors from Landa: Myrtle Bernyu, Daisy Mullican, and Jordan Devicky, right?"
"Spot on. Do you know how big the company is?"
"Not exactly. Just that they've pooled investments in the billions."
"You're a bit behind there. They've already surpassed the trillions mark."
Oliver wasn't one to startle easily, but the word "trillion" gave him pause.
Even he, who'd been handling money lately, couldn't quite wrap his head around that figure.
'How many billions make a trillion?'
Oliver tried comparing it to the largest unit he could grasp.
In Landa, countless people went their whole lives without touching even a billion, but a trillion required ten thousand billions stacked together.
It was staggering.
"Cat got your tongue?"
"Ah... Sorry. Just didn't know what to say."
"Normal reaction. A trillion shouldn't even be a realistic unit. Stick it in a low-interest bank, and you're pulling at least a hundred billion in interest a year."
"Feels unreal."
"Perfectly normal, so don't sweat it."
"How'd ABC amass that much? I saw something about them a while back, but not enough time's passed for this."
Oliver's curiosity was piqued. Could money really pile up that fast?
"Ever heard that Landa has so much money it's practically bursting at the seams?"
"Yeah."
"Scoop up all that overflowing cash, and it's possible."
Not easy by any means, but Carver explained the method without hesitation.
The key was promotion and allure.
"Promotion and allure?"
"Yes. Right after founding ABC, Shamus used shows and cash to get every newspaper in the city covering them. Who started it, who invested— the works."
"I know that part. But if it's all true, what's the issue? ...Unless the articles are fake?"
"Wish they were, but no. Everything's factual: investors, funds, returns... Thanks to that, within a week of opening, over a thousand people had deposited money. All walks of life—regular workers, shop owners, professionals, entrepreneurs, even banks."
"Impressive... But a thousand people make a trillion?"
"Then big-name tycoons started jumping in one by one, and each time, the public swarmed like ants. Now it's over ten thousand strong. Check the documents if you'd like."
Oliver flipped through as instructed.
The pages Carver mentioned neatly listed dates, investor counts, and investment amounts.
Prominent wealthy names had invested at regular intervals, and each time, the numbers exploded exponentially.
Like a snowball rolling down a hill.
"And it's not just Landa folks. They're pulling investments from outside too—agents handling nearby towns, the royal capital, even up to Northland."
Oliver turned more pages. Just as Carver said, Shamus's investment flow was meticulously charted, dense and systematic as a spiderweb.
He was starting to see how that unreal trillion had come together.
'Still feels unreal, though.'
Flip. Flip. Flip...
Oliver skimmed quickly and asked,
"...Thorough investigation. But I'm not getting the point. Why tell me about ABC?"
"Because the job is digging into this absurd company's background."
"...? Why call it absurd?"
"Because it is—literally."
City official Paul Carver stated it flatly and laid out the reasons.
It didn't take long for Oliver to realize there was solid basis for his claim.
Carver pulled out pen and paper, then right before Oliver's eyes, sketched projections for how much more investment ABC could attract.
From the way he wrote the numbers and his speed, it'd clearly been calculated multiple times before.
"At this rate, they'll pull in more than they've already got—at least double, up to ten times as much."
"...Ten times would be ten trillion?"
Oliver, uncharacteristically shocked by the absurd sum, gaped. Carver stayed calm.
"Yes. Human greed and mania make it possible... But no matter how flush Landa is, there's a limit. Investments will taper off eventually."
Carver drew a gradually flattening graph on the white paper.
"Meanwhile, ABC's payouts will skyrocket exponentially. They subdivided their products out of worry, but it's only a matter of time. They'll hit a point they can't handle."
He sketched another graph on fresh paper, this one exploding upward.
The two lines showed massive disparity and imbalance—ominous enough to rattle even Oliver.
"No matter the variables, they'll reach a moment they can't pay out. Even giving them every break."
"I don't get it—ABC's an investment firm. Can't they just pay from their investment profits? They claim they never fail."
"'Never fail' in investing? That's a scam, guaranteed."
Carver affirmed it again. His emotional state made it clear: dead serious.
"I don't know the World Tree inside out, but I know enough—no one 'never fails' in a market fueled by human greed and madness. Even great sages have famous tales of investment flops. That's reality. History... You don't buy that nonsense, do you, Mr. Dave?"
"Hard to believe, but I don't jump to conclusions—there might be folks with abilities I can't even imagine."
"......"
Carver stared in disbelief, saying nothing.
In the silence, Oliver spoke up. Something had been nagging him.
"One thing I'm wondering."
"What?"
"If it's that suspicious, why not have the City investigate internally instead of hiring a fixer like me?"
"Fair point—leaves me speechless. You're right, but we don't have the means, so here we are."
Oliver sensed fresh unease in Carver's words.
"Not following."
"Before coming to you, some people already raised red flags about Shamus's operation. Mathematicians, economists—even the Moirae School."
The Moirae School specialized in World Tree studies.
Shorter in history and scale than the Life or Space Schools, but one of the Magic Tower's most potent in potential and growth.
"Then why isn't the City looking into it?"
"Officials and councilors shielding Shamus are blocking proper probes. We've done what we can, but came up empty. Especially on the World Tree angle—that's beyond the City's call."
"Ah......"
"Most investigations fizzled out, giving Shamus's bribed officials and councilors cover. And the citizens? They're piling more money at his feet."
"Investing's a personal choice—why not let it be?"
Oliver, who valued individual will, asked.
Win money? Great. Lose it? Their call—not so bad.
But Carver just shook his head.
"I'm a City official. Can't just watch a scam unfold right in front of me."
"......"
"...That's the surface reason. Truth is, the scale's too massive. Let this fester, and Landa itself could collapse."