Excellent Means of Conversation (2): Laurie Gos
Laurie Gos. Even perched on our rickety old wooden chair, she gazed at me with the lofty poise of someone enthroned—a fitting look for the empire's honorary countess. They say if the Gos Merchant Group closed its wallet, the empire's economy would grind to a halt. The famous anecdote had it that even the imperial family threw up their hands and granted her the title.
But why is this woman in our house?
"The imperial finance minister stands for thirty minutes holding approval documents when he's in my presence. And yet you dare make a countess like me wait three hours in this shack? You've got some guts."
An elegant yet razor-sharp reprimand. But instead of shrinking, I smirked and shot back shamelessly.
"Aigoo, what an honor, Countess. But the finance minister's never gotten run over by a carriage in your stead, has he? Cut your savior some slack when he looks like this."
My cheeky retort drew a seductive arc across Laurie's red lips. Memories of our first meeting—no, that accident—flashed briefly through my mind.
Three months ago, on an utterly ordinary day. A wildly out-of-control Gos Merchant Group carriage barreled toward a woman about my age, and without a second thought, I threw myself in front of her to save her. As everyone probably guessed, the woman I rescued was none other than Laurie Gos, head of the merchant group.
In exchange, I got smashed by the carriage—bones shattered all over, blood pouring from my cracked skull. And ironically, that's the moment I regained memories of my past life. Along with the horrifying truth that this world was that godforsaken trash romance novel.
Well, thanks to that, I've got the empire's top investor right in front of me now. Not a bad deal.
As my brief reminiscence ended, Laurie's eyes drifted to my dangling wrist and the bizarre lump of metal clutched in my hand—the prototype.
"You're as brazen as ever."
She let out a small, incredulous chuckle, then rested her smooth chin on her hand and nodded toward the prototype.
"Anyway, what's that hideous chunk of scrap? I've heard rumors you've been scrounging junk from village workshops lately. All that effort just to make that crude thing?"
She wrinkled her nose slightly and added sharply,
"And... that scrap reeks of thick blood and acrid gunpowder."
With that, curiosity gleaming in her eyes, Laurie elegantly extended her hand toward my prototype. I freaked out and yelped,
"No! Don't! Stop!"
Forgetting the pain in my dangling wrist, I clutched the soot-blackened metal hunk to my chest like a beast protecting its precious cub, eyes fierce.
"......"
Her hand froze midair, trembling faintly. The continent's top merchant leader, who wouldn't blink before the imperial finance minister, was genuinely flustered by this brazen display she'd never seen before.
"Uh... um? Oh, sorry. I won't touch it then. Can I at least just look?"
Laurie, of all people, mumbled an apology and asked cautiously. But I shook my head firmly and shoved the metal deeper into my bosom.
"No way. This is my baby—I birthed it myself, stomach pains and all."
Ironclad defense. Laurie gaped, lips twitching in disbelief, but my mind was blaring alarms louder than ever.
Are you insane? Show this structure to that sharp-eyed merchant vixen? One glimpse and she'll steal the blueprints, mass-produce it with Gos capital, and my monopoly tech is toast!
The surface excuse was blind attachment to my baby (the gun), but the real reason was airtight tech leak prevention. No massive profit for me? No free peeks.
"Haa......"
Laurie pressed her forehead and sighed deeply. But her gaze was still blatantly fixed on the metal buried in my chest. Her slender fingers drummed the table three times faster than usual. She was trying to maintain her countess elegance, but it was obvious this insane curiosity had her merchant instincts in a chokehold.
"Fine, I won't take it. I won't."
Her voice mixed odd irritation and longing. Narrowing her brow, she blurted rapidly,
"You're a pure commoner who can't handle a speck of mana. Yet you climbed that mountain today, came back covered in beast blood and foul gunpowder stench—and that hideous scrap feels like it just exploded."
Her deductions accelerating, Laurie suddenly leaned forward, face inches from mine. The haughty countess's expression screamed I'm dying of curiosity.
"What the hell did you do with that crude metal up there? You're killing me keeping it secret! I came here personally with a recommendation letter to this backwater—can't you just flash it for ten seconds? No, five!"
The continent's top merchant finally cracked, huffing like a frustrated kid. Imperial nobles would've fainted at the sight.
I kept a stern face outwardly while cheering inwardly. She's hooked. The perfect investor, blinded by curiosity.
"Hmmmmm... Should I show you? Or not?"
I stroked my chin, dragging it out obnoxiously. Finally, the elegant countess whined like a street urchin.
"Ugh, come on!"
Tease her more, and this curiosity-crazed powerhouse might send assassins or thieves tonight. Pretending reluctance, I pulled the metal from my chest and plunked it on the table.
"Here. Ten seconds exactly."
Laurie snatched it up like a hawk snaring prey. Her smooth fingers traced the twisted barrel like candy floss and the powder-crusted pan intently. Her merchant-sharp eyes dissected every component.
Swoosh—
Suddenly, she jammed the charred muzzle right up to her eye! Peering into that narrow hole like she had to see inside!
Gasp, crazy!
My modern soul—no, true gun nut's spirit—screamed in horror. If dud powder lingered inside, the continent's top merchant's head would've vaporized.
"Hey! Tsk! No! Don't put your eye there! Confiscating!"
I lunged like a beast and yanked the gun from her hand. Laurie stared at her empty palm, dumbfounded. But the title "top merchant" wasn't for show. In those few seconds, her keen eyes had pierced the weapon's core.
"Such grabby hands... Anyway, I get the gist. It explodes gunpowder, uses the pressure to fire something through that narrow tube. So, what is this bizarre thing?"
To her sharp question, I wiped the soot from my precious baby (pistol) with my sleeve and grinned.
"An excellent means of conversation."
"......Pardon?"
Laurie furrowed her brow like I'd spouted nonsense. I continued smoothly,
"Nothing beats it for dealing with dumb beasts or thick-skulled idiots. Just had a real deep chat with a wolf beast up the mountain using this."
"You chatted with a beast?"
"Yep. My persuasion was so convincing, its head got totally emptied. Literally."
Half its skull blown off—factual empty head. At my mad claim, Laurie blanked out briefly, then realized it wasn't a joke and burst into hollow laughter.
"Pfft! Ahahaha!"
Unable to hold back, she doubled over in genuine mirth, noble poise tossed aside.
"Oh dear, sorry. Hehehe... You've made something truly horrific and hilarious. But......"
Wiping tears of laughter, her eyes turned cold and merchant-keen in an instant. Her gaze landed on my right wrist, wrapped tight in bandages reeking of herbs.
"That excellent conversation tool still needs major improvements, doesn't it? A weapon that blows off its owner's wrist every chat? Commercial value approaches zero."
Spot on. But my lips curled in satisfaction. She bit the bait.
She'd said "improvements" and "commercial value" herself. The continent's top capitalist had fully recognized this scrap's potential.
Time to reel in the line. I gazed at the ceiling theatrically and sighed exaggeratedly.
"Siiiigh~ Wonder if there's a rich, discerning, trustworthy investor out there~ Revolutionary monopoly tech like this is perfect for a 'buy low' right before commercialization~"
Reciting like a textbook, my blatant scheming obvious to all. Apparently hit her fancy— she covered her mouth hastily, but her shaking shoulders betrayed her.
Desperate to preserve countess dignity. Emboldened by her amusement, I amped it up with blatant, obnoxious winks every eye contact.
Wink, wink.
"Pffft...! Please, Flint. You look like you've got eye spasms—stop that awful winking?"
She exploded again, wiping tears and waving me off. Calming her laughter with a small cough, she donned the top merchant's leisurely smile. But her eyes blazed with deeper curiosity and predatory greed.
"Alright, I surrender. I planned to just write you a clean academy recommendation for saving my life and call it even... but no can do."
She leaned across the table. The countess's elegant eyes curved slyly as she closed the distance.
"I'll send my trusted aide here tomorrow. List your needed funds and materials on this paper ahead of time."
Laurie pulled premium scented paper and a pen from her bosom, placing them on the table. No mere paper—this was a blank check from the continent's top merchant, fill in any number.
Her eyes cooled sharply as she added,
"This is your chance to prove that grotesque 'conversation tool' deserves my investment. Amount doesn't matter—have a finished product before the academy entrance exam."
Cold words, but laced with resolve to boldly invest in this inventor Flint at his low point.
She rose gracefully, then pulled a fancy glass vial of shimmering red liquid from her bosom and set it beside the paper.
"This is on the house."
Her gaze flicked to my bruised wrist, mangled by the wolf beast's brutal recoil. Merchant-sharp insight, and blatant investment in her golden goose.
I didn't hide my smile at the paper and potion on the table. Jackpot. No more old man whittling sticks.
Top-grade alloys, purified high-purity mana stones, precision tools. Blueprints already swirled wildly in my head, morphing into the shape of a real gun.