19. A Lucrative Outing
19. A Lucrative Outing
"Things have gone quite well. It seems the existing investors were all unhappy with the hundred-year term."
"The Chairwoman's name carries incredible weight. It's honestly impressive."
"And your own background is the Royal Family, is it not, Finance Officer?"
"It's not a name I can deploy as freely as you can. Useful as an excuse, perhaps, but hard to wield in a situation like this."
As I shared an early breakfast with Finance Officer Marcus at the inn, I gazed calmly out the window.
Outside lay a city still asleep in the predawn darkness, and in stark contrast, the brightly lit castle of the ruling lord.
Count Anton had probably figured out what was happening by now. The man had no conscience, but he wasn't devoid of brains.
"It would be convenient if we could believe the Gartua Merchant Chief's transparent excuses."
"No chance of that. Count Anton Beryl is the one who pulled his crumbling house back from the brink. That's precisely why we set a time limit."
A wily, experienced count wouldn't take the Gartua Merchant Chief at his word. He would have realized it's collusion.
No matter how far his house had fallen, this was still a count's domain. The count had plenty of ways to counter such maneuvering, placing us at a disadvantage.
Hence the time limit.
'By tonight.'
A single day was nowhere near enough time for the count to thoroughly investigate and respond to the collusion. It had to be a massive headache for him.
It wasn't all upside, of course.
"Still, our expenditures have been significant."
"Collusion is a double-edged sword. The existing investors are effectively betraying Count Anton, so we had to give them real assurance."
What would happen if the negotiation failed despite all this? I'd be fine either way, but Finance Officer Marcus could be held responsible and fired.
The investors who betrayed Count Anton and joined the collusion would be in an even worse spot. The count might extend the term to two hundred years, or even if not, their relationship would be badly fractured.
In other words, Marcus and I, as the ones proposing the collusion, had to give the investors certainty.
Certainty that even if the collusion failed, they'd still gain something worth the risk.
Marcus was a public official, so that was one thing. But I had things I could offer.
"Still, it wasn't a material expense, so it's fine."
"...I'd say a direct line to the Chairwoman is quite material indeed."
"That's true."
We weren't persuading anyone with cash.
The usual way to maintain collusion is with money, but that was where the "weight of the Chairwoman's name" Marcus mentioned came into play.
What I'd offered as the consolation prize if the collusion failed was a means of contacting the Chairwoman.
Only once, but still, a direct line to an 8th Rank transcendent, the head of Grandis Academy.
Whether to negotiate with her, petition her, or build a connection—the goals varied, but the investors had accepted the terms immediately.
'It's practically the right to speak directly to a monarch.'
As a bonus, I told them that if they had any business with the academy, I, as Finance Director, would personally facilitate it.
A line to the Chairwoman. Considering that she and I were essentially a single faction, it was something I could offer without too much trouble.
So why hadn't I used this excellent name-drop more often?
'Because I have to preserve its value.'
I can't dangle a direct line to the Chairwoman in every deal and every negotiation. Such opportunities are rare, and that rarity is what gives them value.
That was also why I had guarded her authority so carefully. Only if the Chairwoman maintained her standing as an 8th Rank—the wealthiest person in the kingdom—would everyone covet this privilege.
It was, in effect, my trump card. And now that I'd used it here, I'd have to refrain from playing it again for a long while to preserve its worth.
Naturally, it wasn't a perfect solution. For some mid-sized trading companies and minor noble houses, immediate cash might be more useful than a conversation with a transcendent being like the Chairwoman. What could a rural baron or a small merchant guild possibly gain from meeting a monarch or the Chairwoman?
Even so, the privilege had enough value to create the collusion on the spot.
Of course, Finance Officer Marcus, who had no idea that the Chairwoman and I were practically spouses, had good reason to worry. To him, the Chairwoman was a power who could discard someone like me at any moment.
'Wait. What did I just think?'
Spouses? I've truly lost my mind.
I got confessed to by the Chairwoman, sure, but how long is my mouth—or my brain—going to keep slipping like this?
I shook my head and took a spoonful of soup. Chloe, who was sitting next to me eating as well, looked over.
"So, Finance Director, if the negotiation isn't finished by the end of today, are we going back?"
"Ah, that."
"...No, we're not."
"What?"
"Student Rus?"
Rus, who had been quietly picking at her own soup, spoke up.
Her answer carried a note of familiarity.
"If the Finance Director truly had no intention of investing, he wouldn't have needed to orchestrate this collusion in the first place."
"Hey, what do you know to be talking like that?"
"The Finance Director invoked the name of the Chairwoman, of all people. That's not a light commitment. He's genuinely intent on easing the terms and making the investment succeed."
"..."
"The deadline is tonight, so we hope the negotiation closes by then—but even if it doesn't, he'll adjust his approach, not go home... Isn't that right?"
"...Precisely. Impressive, Student Rus."
Did the protagonist just have a knack for this sort of thing? We set a collusion and a time limit, but that didn't mean I intended to actually wrap everything up that fast. If anything, having gone as far as collusion, I was determined to see this investment through.
Personally, the Chairwoman's name felt light to me, but as Finance Director Adam Caines, the Chairwoman's name had to carry considerable external weight.
"I'm just... familiar with it. With these kinds of tactics."
"Did you work for a merchant guild before coming to the academy?"
"...I was on the receiving end."
On the receiving end? Of collusion?
Come to think of it, hadn't she mentioned making money from a mine before? Did she go through something similar then?
In any case, Chloe, left with nothing to say to Rus, just ate her soup with a sulky air.
But Rus wasn't finished.
"So a difficult situation may unfold soon."
"Why do you think that?"
"Because in this kind of situation, the best countermove is a known quantity."
"Hmm, just what I'd expect from Rus. Remarkable insight for someone so young. That, along with being 6th Rank... I look forward to your future."
Finance Officer Marcus nodded with an impressed expression, and I nodded in agreement. She seemed unusually well-versed in these machinations, but if she'd lived through it, that explained things.
I turned to explain the conversation to Chloe, the only one who wasn't following.
"...Hey, talk quietly. You get it, right?"
"Student Chloe?"
"Huh? Oh, it's nothing!"
Really? I could have sworn she just whispered something to empty air.
The moment was so brief I chalked it up to my imagination and moved on.
"What Student Rus is referring to is Count Anton's countermove."
"But wasn't the whole point of the time limit to deny him room to respond?"
"It was. However, the count has likely deduced that Finance Officer Marcus and I don't want to abandon the investment either. So in a situation with a time limit bearing down on us, the optimal response is—"
The door flew open.
"Mr. Adam Caines! It's the Gartua Merchant Chief!"
"Chief, what is it?"
"...Count Anton has made his move."
"What kind of move?"
"He's... shut the castle gates and locked them."
As expected.
Once he realized Marcus and I wouldn't give in easily under pressure, there was only one move a seasoned negotiator like Count Anton would make.
A game of chicken.
One side colludes to force better terms. The other side refuses all negotiation and bars the gates.
As time drags on, both sides grow desperate. Our collusion's cohesion will start to crack, and the count's reconstruction will be delayed while his funds drain away.
"From here on, it's a contest of who can endure longer."
"Let us hope the count's patience is short."
And so.
A week passed.
*
Fuck. This crazy stubborn bastard.
He held out for a whole week?
"...Finance Officer, how much longer can you stay?"
"I applied for ten days of external duty. That leaves two. And considering the return trip, today is effectively the end..."
"What about the other investors?"
"Wavering, as expected. It seems the Norman Head Butler has been reaching out to the investors through various channels."
This is the problem with collusion. You share a single goal, but the nature of the arrangement makes it easy to break.
The Norman Head Butler's pitch to the investors was obvious. Betray the collusion and come back now, and we'll negotiate with specially eased terms.
If even one party succumbs to that temptation, the entire collusion collapses like dominoes. What comes after is predictable. Marcus and I, as the ringleaders, would be forced to accept terms far harsher than the original hundred years.
This is why collusion is a double-edged sword.
Personally, I'd be fine even if the investment fell through. I could just go home.
'But after reviewing the documents, visiting the halted mine site, and hearing from the other investors, one thing is clear. This investment will succeed.'
Even while locking his castle gates, Count Anton had diligently sent documents on the mine reconstruction to the inn. No doubt a ploy to rattle the collusion.
Moreover, according to the Gartua Merchant Chief, a mining expert, and the other investors, the odds of successfully rebuilding the rock salt mine were very high.
I might have bad memories tied to a rock salt mine, but you make investments based on information, not memories.
'This is too good an opportunity to miss.'
If we can just ease the hundred-year term, this investment would be a massive boon to the academy. The installment structure meant it could anchor a long-term budget plan.
That was what started the collusion.
And this insane chicken game had now dragged on for not one day, not two, but a full week.
Maintaining the collusion was reaching its limit.
'Yesterday, the Gartua Merchant Chief reportedly met secretly with the Norman Head Butler.'
If the Gartua Merchant Chief, the largest pre-existing investor, defected, the collusion would shatter instantly.
I had to make a decision.
"I will go see Count Anton personally."
"...Then I should remain here. The other investors might grow anxious, fearing you're betraying them."
"I leave it to you."
"The trust is mutual. In terms of position, you can press far harder than I can as a finance officer attached to the royal court. My job rests in your hands."
I knew perfectly well that even as he said that, his own private reports back home minimized his share of responsibility to the bone. Chloe had tipped me off. Truly, a breathtaking talent for self-preservation.
If I'd joined the royal bureaucracy, would I, as a fellow 1st Rank, become like that too? Now that I thought about it, maybe I already was, in a way.
Having decided, there was no point in delay. I left immediately for the lord's castle, accompanied by Chloe and Rus.
Along the way, anxious glances from the investors followed us, but I walked tall. One way or another, I was ending this today.
The castle gates, which had been firmly locked for the entire past week.
Groaned open!
The moment I stood before them, they parted as if they'd been waiting. Yes, the count hadn't had an easy week either.
The servants were nowhere to be seen. Nor was the Norman Head Butler.
The corridor, unheated—had they burned no firewood at all?—was freezing, but I kept my expression neutral as I walked through it to the drawing room.
"Count Anton. It's Adam Caines."
"...Enter."
Count Anton's condition was visibly haggard.
His cheeks were sunken, his hands trembling faintly.
For a moment I suspected it was an act, but Rus shook her head. It was genuine.
"You seem to have fared well this past week."
"...And you as well."
Me? I just missed about a week's worth of proper sleep, that's all.
The "cigarettes" I'd brought along also helped me endure. In my previous life, overtime and all-nighters were routine anyway.
Still, it was true my body was nearing its limit. I was out of cigarettes, and a wave of accumulated fatigue might knock me unconscious at any moment.
Both of us were at the end of our rope.
No need for long speeches.
"A hundred years."
"A hundred years is too long. Let's shorten the term."
"A hundred years."
"I noticed on the way in that the servants were absent. Surely you haven't run out of funds to pay them and had to send them all away?"
"A hundred years."
"The castle is cold. At your age, Count, you should think of your health."
"A hundred years."
"Professor Alon mentioned something. The repayment date for the loan you took to purchase the mine—it's today."
"...!"
"I am not here to force unreasonable terms on Your Excellency through collusion. You know as well as I do that a hundred years is excessive. I simply want to bring it down to a common-sense level."
At last, I caught a whiff of weakness from that shrewd, seasoned noble.
The scent of a weak point.
Now I just had to zero in on it.
"How is the territory's credit rating? I understand you've been refused by every reputable trading company and magnate and had to borrow money through less... dignified channels."
"..."
"If you can't even repay that on time, where will you borrow next? Investment is only the beginning. There's no telling what might go wrong during the mine's reconstruction. You've already rolled the dice."
Count Anton had made an extreme bet, borrowing even from shady sources to purchase the mine and surrounding territory. There was no turning back now.
If he could just hold on through today, Count Anton would be the one surrendering.
But pushing him that far wasn't what I wanted.
'A cornered rat will bite a cat.'
Backing someone too hard into a corner is bad practice. It was a basic negotiation principle I'd learned from books, and one Count Anton knew well.
"I'll give you my final offer. Twenty years. That is the term we propose."
"That's...!"
"However, I will introduce you to a merchant guild already contracted with our academy. You're short on daily necessities, are you not? Furthermore, I will use the academy's name to back your territory's credit so that you can borrow funds legitimately."
"..."
"What do you say?"
Please.
Please take it. I was acting relaxed, but if the collusion broke, the advantage would swing straight to the count.
Only the count, Professor Alon, and I knew that his loan repayment was due today. Could the count really risk refusing my offer now?
If he couldn't persuade the Gartua Merchant Chief by the end of today, he couldn't repay the money. The Gartua Merchant Chief didn't know today was the deadline—maybe he'd hesitate one more day.
And from a "less dignified" lender, who knew what they'd do to a fallen count's house to get their money back.
Facing that extreme situation, Count Anton.
"...Thirty years. That much... I cannot concede."
"Accepted."
He raised the white flag at last. From a hundred to thirty—that's far more reasonable.
Seeing Count Anton's desperate state even stirred a little sympathy in me—
<...The truth is, even ten years would've been a win, so I'm thinking thirty is a decent outcome. You fox.>
So I'd been completely played.
Well, it's still fine. Truth is, I don't have much money to invest anyway.
The donations need to go toward stabilizing the academy's finances, so there isn't much spare capital we can leave untouched for a while. You never asked how much I'd be investing, did you?
More than that.
"My apologies. I need to use the restroom for a moment."
"...? Go ahead."
My sudden request startled Count Anton, but he quickly waved me off. The negotiation was over; he was probably feeling relieved.
I walked straight to the restroom in the silent castle.
"You're listening, aren't you?"
<.........>
"Just now, and back when I first met Count Anton. You know my circumstances, and you've been feeding me information."
I began what looked, at a glance, like the mutterings of a madman.
But I was certain. Someone was listening to me right now.
That someone was the owner of the voice.
I could have waited until we were back at the inn, but since the voice had just spoken, trying to start a conversation right away seemed best.
"Given that you've helped me, you seem favorably disposed. Shouldn't we at least exchange names? Continuing to treat this as my own auditory hallucinations can't be pleasant for you either."
<.........>
"You already seem to know about me. If you truly mean to help, you can answer."
An unidentified voice. Aid of unknown intent.
This time it worked in my favor, but ultimately, I can't blindly trust something whose identity I don't know.
"What are you?"
An answer might come, or it might not. I'd act accordingly from there.
I waited.
"Yes, tell me."
"...What?"
...Excuse me?