Have You Seen Such Bastards?!
The Count’s face remained frozen solid even after he heard my proposal. He owned more than a few farms; depending on which ones I demanded, the deal could easily end up costing him. He opened his mouth with extreme caution.
“When you say my farms… which ones exactly are you referring to?”
“The wheat fields and the corn fields, my lord. Those two.”
At my answer the Count’s expression brightened like a lantern. Wow. This was the first noble I’d ever met who had zero poker face.
“Those two farms, you say?”
“Yes. I propose we exchange them for my flower field.”
The Count’s wheat and corn plantations were enormous. In terms of sheer area they ranked among the largest plots he owned. Yet unlike my flower garden, those fields had been enchanted with plant-growth magic specialized for food crops. In the current tulip-crazed market, they were the least valuable land he possessed.
“Lord Kyle, are you making this offer while fully aware of your flower field’s current worth?”
“Of course. I know it very well.”
Combined, the two farms were worth roughly half the value of my tulip garden. In other words, I was essentially handing over the flower field at half price. The smile never left the Count’s face.
“Then why would you accept such a loss?”
Because the bubble’s about to pop and I’m trying to hand off the bomb, obviously. Since I couldn’t say the truth, I gave the most reasonable explanation an outsider would accept.
“The Lorend Guild’s main business is dairy. Adding compatible crops will be far more beneficial to the guild’s overall operations.”
After recently absorbing the Jev Guild we had added mining interests—including Bluestone—but the Lorend Guild’s core remained dairy products: milk, beef, cheese, and the like. Throwing wheat and corn into the mix would let us reduce distribution margins and increase profits when dealing with bakeries and similar partners. It wasn’t a complete lie; it really was part of our future business strategy.
“I see… so that was the reason.”
“Naturally I’m disappointed to leave the tulip business. Still, I’ve already earned plenty, and… sometimes it’s wise to take off clothes that don’t fit.”
The Count’s face cleared completely. He seemed especially fond of the phrase “clothes that don’t fit.”
“Ohohohoho, Lord Kyle is truly wise. Knowing one’s place is indeed most important.”
“Yes, it is. Hahaha…”
Hahaha… knowing my place, my ass. Still, a merchant who ruins a deal over a little irritation is no merchant at all. Spitting in an enemy’s face could always wait until I was standing on his grave.
“Then let us proceed. We shall exchange your flower field for my farms.”
“Thank you, Count Furkus.”
The contract was drawn up as swiftly as when I had bought the flower field. The garden I had purchased returned to the Count’s hands, and in return I received the wheat and corn plantations. On the surface it was a contract, but anyone could see it was an unfair trade.
It looked as if the Count had used his authority to seize my property, and I, unable to resist, had at least salvaged some farms. Yes… this was exactly the picture I had wanted.
I kept a deliberately dark expression as I left the mansion and climbed into the carriage. Perhaps that bothered her, because Elina, who had been watching me the entire time, spoke softly.
“Young Master…”
“What is it, Elina?”
“Shall I kill him…”
“…Pardon?”
Suddenly the conversation had taken a murderous turn. Elina stared at the receding mansion with an expression that had gone beyond cold and straight into lethal.
“From the two visits we have made, I have fully mapped the positions and capabilities of the estate’s guards.”
“Wait… when did you even do that?”
“It is basic knowledge for a perfect maid.”
Was mapping assassination routes part of a maid’s basic education now? Elina’s statements occasionally transcended common sense and left me genuinely flustered.
“If Young Master gives the order, I will dispose of the Count.”
“Um… Elina… let’s calm down for a second.”
“You need not worry about the aftermath. I can arrange it so his death appears completely natural.”
Elina looked genuinely furious that the Count had crossed a line with me. I soothed her as best I could.
“Elina, relax. There’s no need for you to get involved with trash like him.”
“But… he disrespected Young Master…”
“Even if you don’t act, someone else will take care of it.”
“Someone else?”
That’s right. There was no need for Elina to lift a finger. The guillotine was already descending on Count Furkus, inch by inch.
Having reclaimed the flower field, the Count began to run wild. Driven by greed to make up for the money he had failed to earn, he mobilized every coin and every ounce of influence he possessed to mass-produce tulips.
“Right! Let us make tulips again today! Ohohohoho!!!”
Chloris (Plant Growth Magic)
He summoned every mage from the Green Magic Tower he could reach and forced them to produce tulips nonstop.
“Your Excellency… I feel like I’m going to die…”
“I feel like I’m going to die too…”
“Please… just one mana potion…”
“I’m sorry, mages. We’ve run out of mana potions.”
The mages, already squeezed to their limits by the tulip frenzy, had reached their breaking point. The supply of mana potions to sustain them had also been exhausted. And that wasn’t the only thing that had reached its limit.
Two months after the Count seized the flower field, Emperor Julius von Alpeit could not hide his shock at the report from the imperial administration.
“Food shortages in the empire?! What nonsense is this?!”
“W-well, Your Majesty… the situation is…”
Because of the tulip craze, countless farmers had overturned their fields and planted flowers instead. The vast quantities of wheat, corn, and other staples the empire’s people needed to eat had been turned into fertilizer for tulips before they could even sprout. The accumulated result was a full-blown food shortage.
“So you’re saying the empire’s food supply has collapsed because of that tulip speculation?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“What has the prince I appointed as Eastern Governor been doing?! And what about Margrave Albert of the Eastern Border?!”
“That is… well…”
The person who had bought the most tulips after being appointed Eastern Governor was none other than the prince himself. Margrave Albert, a military man, was not well-versed in civil affairs and had left the matter to his subordinates.
Those subordinates, however, had failed to report the severity of the situation because Adler—Albert’s own son—was deeply invested in tulips, and they themselves hoped to profit as well.
Having heard every report, the Emperor felt rage boiling all the way to the top of his skull.
CRACK!
In his fury the Emperor slammed his fist down on the desk before him. The oak table split cleanly in two. Servants silently replaced it. Once he had barely regained control of his anger, the Emperor spoke with solemn authority.
“Imperial Princess Shuren, step forward.”
“Yes, Father.”
At the Emperor’s command, Shuren stepped forward and bowed her head. He issued his decree.
Tomorrow you will depart for the Eastern Region together with the Spear of Judgment. Swing that spear without mercy against every soul entangled in this affair and return only when justice has been rendered.
“Your Majesty’s command will be obeyed.”
The Spear of Judgment—an imperial audit and inspection agency operating directly under the Emperor with extrajudicial authority. Because its power stood outside all laws, it moved only on the Emperor’s direct order and was required to be supervised by at least one member of the imperial family whenever it acted.
The moment the words left the Emperor’s mouth, every face in the room darkened. They understood this was not merely a cleanup of speculators; it was a declaration of purge.
“From this moment on, any tulips appearing at social gatherings or official events will be met with the harshest punishment! Is that clear?!”
“Yes! We shall engrave it upon our hearts, Your Majesty!”
At the Emperor’s proclamation, half the courtiers’ faces turned ashen. They were the ones who had poured enormous sums into tulips hoping to ride the wave of speculation. The moment they returned home they summoned their stewards and subordinates and roared.
“The tulips! Dispose of every last tulip immediately! Hurry!”
“What?! In the middle of the night, my lord?”
“Before the rumor spreads! Gather the guild masters and liquidate them at once!!”
The servants were stunned. The very masters who had treated tulips like treasures more precious than gold were now ordering them sold off as quickly as possible. But because their masters were nobles, the servants obeyed and began dumping the flowers on the market.
When nobles started throwing tulips onto the market at 10, then 20 percent below market value, the merchant guilds initially snapped them up. But the volume of sales kept growing.
“Tulips at thirty percent off market price!”
“We’re selling at forty percent off!!”
“W-what in the world is going on?”
The amount of tulips being dumped increased relentlessly. At the same time, the tulips that farmers who had gone all-in months earlier were finally harvesting began flooding in. The sheer quantity soon exceeded what anyone could absorb. The faces of the merchants and farmers at the empire’s largest agricultural auction house, the Eastern Auction House, began to darken.
And then the news spread like wildfire.
“His Majesty has banned tulips from all social gatherings!!”
“They say anyone promoting tulip speculation at those events will face the death penalty?!”
The Emperor’s official declaration that he was bringing the hammer down on tulip mania swept across the entire empire in an instant. Tulip prices collapsed overnight.
“Tulips! Two thousand genons each!”
“We’re selling at one thousand genons!”
“Seven hundred genons here!”
“We… we’ll take…”
In the blink of an eye tulips had returned to their original worthless prices. Hundreds of billions of genons evaporated in a single morning. Despairing farmers, bankrupt merchants, nobles driven mad with rage—only such despair filled the Eastern Auction House.
Count Furkus, who had arrived carrying mountains of tulips from the flower field he had taken back from me and the new tulip fields he had created by overturning his own cropland, could not believe the scene before his eyes.
“H-how did this happen? Why are tulip prices like this?! Why?!”
The new tulip beds he had planted after reclaiming the flower field from me, the enormous harvest he had expected would finally let him make up for lost profits—everything had become a literal nightmare for Count Furkus.
That day, the Tulip Speculation Incident that would later be known as Nightmare Wednesday finally erupted.