Chapter 5
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Come to Everglow Hotel (1)
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A warm afternoon sun streamed into the office.
Already drowsy from a full lunch, the sunlight warming the back of my head made me feel twice as sleepy.
Still, with things at their busiest, I couldn't rest. I refilled my third cup of coffee already and wrestled with the pile of paperwork that had built up over the past few days.
"Promotion is going smoothly, Young Master."
"Good. At least that's some relief. If there'd been no reaction after all this effort, I'd have been pretty bummed."
I took a breather while listening to Sion, who'd been scouting the city streets in my place to gauge public sentiment.
It's under the family name, sure, but since I'm the one running it, it's basically my business.
Among the most profitable ventures bringing in the cash, I'd selected a few to run promotional events for.
No cell phones like in my past life, no internet communities to gather opinions—public opinion ultimately spreads by word of mouth.
The targets were the rich, idle noble heirs slinking around high society.
Best if it catches on among the young ladies, though.
"Especially the cafe—visitors have exploded. Revenue's up accordingly."
Why do guys, both in my past life and here, always say things are "good" without any details?
I skipped receipt events because they were a hassle, and I'd outsourced review campaigns too, so I got it, sort of.
Men only run those events if the service is trash—your classic "goroashi" ploy—otherwise, never.
"What about the cocktail bar?"
"No major change in visitor numbers, but..."
Sion handed me a neatly summarized one-page report.
"The so-called 'regulars' are coming more often."
"...Do these guys have three livers or what? Don't they get tired drinking this much?"
"It just shows how badly they want those 'invitations,' right?"
"It's working great, but if it peaks too sharply like this, sales might drop hard after the lottery ends."
Tap, tap. Drumming my fingers on the desk, no quick fix came to mind.
But would these boozehounds quit drinking just because the event's over?
Nah, probably not.
Sparrows don't avoid mills, and alcoholics don't quit booze.
"Let's watch and wait. No immediate problems."
"Understood. What about the other areas?"
"Keep doing what works. I don't know the nitty-gritty of management anyway, so tell them to keep handling it."
All I've got are scattered ideas from the 21st century and past-life experience—no real track record running big operations like this.
Package it nicely, though, and...
"That's what I'm paying you all for, right? If they need anything, have them bundle improvement proposals and submit them."
I could delegate like that.
Salaries were competitive with other guilds, so it was their job anyway.
Still, running things ad hoc by wrangling the staff on the fly was hitting limits.
The scale had grown way beyond startup days.
Somehow we'd kept it rolling smoothly till now—that was the real miracle.
I really needed to bring in Arselia soon...
"I'll handle incoming feedback at my discretion, then."
"Seriously, you're a lifesaver."
"...No amount of praise changes the training schedule later."
Praise made her tail swish despite denials—she seemed pleased.
Being a cat beastkin, she couldn't fully hide her emotions; ears and tail always gave her away.
"Never expected otherwise."
"You should at least catch up to Second Brother's fitness level, if not Eldest's."
"How does the little bro have energy left after running around like that? Isn't he a mage?"
"He wields mana like it's his own body. But even without magic, I'll help you become self-sufficient."
Beautiful secretary? Personal maid? Butler?
PT trainer since she worked out with me too?
Whatever the title, she'd handled most everything by my side—or I'd have burned out ages ago.
Her track record screamed "chief of staff."
We finally cleared the backlog—stamps, signatures, all done.
Leaning back after signing the last paper, I mused.
Promotion's exceeding expectations; word might've reached the palace...
"Better set aside a few extras, just in case. Three, to be safe?"
The quiet so far was more unnerving.
Were they waiting for me to reach out first?
"Mess up the timing, and this could get messy."
No need for elaboration—Sion knew how I'd twisted myself to avoid offending the Imperial Family while building in the capital. Her expression hardened.
Building tall in the empire's heart required imperial approval.
Even as a count's son, one imperial "hoit!" and I'd vanish without a trace.
To prevent that, I'd lavished permits with concessions and perks.
"I'll prepare one for the VIP separately."
"Good. The rest for family and our crew? I'll casually mention Mother's and Father's over dinner."
Glancing at the clock—evening mealtime. Time to wrap up.
Sion helped me into my coat, smoothing the wrinkles from sitting.
"For the kids... let's schedule a group meetup. Better hand these over face-to-face."
I'd recruited them, but they were swamped with their duties.
Good pay and benefits, sure—but nothing beat personal schmoozing.
"Oh, and Arselia too."
"Yes, I'll coordinate."
We finished dinner around the grand table.
Before everyone dispersed, I brought it up.
With the anniversary approaching, how about hosting the party at our hotel's ballroom this year?
"If you're that confident, and your mother's fine with it, let's do it."
For family matters short of extinction-level crises, Father deferred to Mother.
And Mother decided swiftly.
"Son, you sure I can trust you?"
Her beaming smile said it all.
"Absolutely. It'll be the best night ever."
"Alright, tell us if you need anything."
Maybe because I'd stretched my hands into everything and delivered results?
That "My boy's got this" trust warmed my chest.
"Heh, we'll head up first."
Father hand-in-hand with Mother—twenty-plus years married, still hot for each other.
Grinning contentedly at the sweet sight, Second Brother cleared his throat beside me.
"Anything else I can help with?"
"You've done plenty with the construction. Focus on your wedding prep now."
"Right. Time to rein yourself in a bit."
"I've grown up a ton compared to before, haven't I?"
"Saying that proves you haven't."
I handed an invitation to my cheek-pinching brother as his fiancée yanked him up by the arm.
"What's this?"
"Figured you're busy, but couldn't not give it. Swing by if you can."
"Taking handouts from my little bro? Guess you've really grown up."
"Keep talking like that, bro?"
His fiancée dragged away the admiring brother amid his yelps.
"Aaaagh! That's where I got scratched last night!"
"I can't! Live! Like this! Th-thanks for the invite, Young Master! G'night!"
"Hm, glad those two get along so well."
Last night the bed thumped away, so his back was probably clawed to shreds.
Still, better than awkwardness or strife—just nice to see.
Reunited with his childhood friend fiancée at the Magic Tower, he'd cleaned up his playboy ways...
"Deny it all you want, but she takes after Mother."
Muttering that, I glanced over—Sion's ears flushed red.
Staring at her nails? Too much work, no upkeep?
Nails weren't just maintenance for women—they were for flair.
Hence the cosmetics business booming, though I still didn't get it fully.
It sold well, so "cool."
"Everything okay? Nail broken?"
"...No, nothing."
She denied it, but as a girl, maybe she cared. Or cat beastkin instincts for grooming.
'Gotta get her some manicure later.'
"Shall we head up too?"
Heading to my room, wondering if the thumps would keep me up late again.
Yawning, I opened the door—and locked eyes with a black-clad woman on the guest sofa.
Lights were on when I left, but now only moonlight filtered through the dark room.
"Who are you?"
Sion tensed to pounce at the intruder, but I halted her for talk first.
"Young Master."
"Hold on."
Something familiar in her eyes.
"Have we met before?"
"..."
Even after lighting up and sitting opposite, she stared silently before murmuring softly.
"...My lord wishes to meet you."
"Ah, from the Imperial Family. Were you with our 'VIP' last time...?"
Her husky voice jogged my memory.
"You had the helmet on then? First time seeing your face, I think..."
"..."
Sion fetched glasses and a bottle, set them down, and stood behind me.
Pop. I uncorked the guest wine, poured, and offered.
She just stared quietly, untouched. Tch inside.
These stiff types were tough.
To prove no poison—and quench my dry throat from surprise—I sipped lightly.
"Is that all from His Highness?"
Rumors swirling, yet no move—I thought they were waiting. But sending an agent...
Third Prince wasn't petty, but more hassle than expected.
At least no throat-slitting ambush—just a sulky "notice me" tantrum.
"..."
Her sharp-eyed beauty unnerved me a bit, but I held firm.
Falter once in aura wars, and you're done.
Signaled Sion for the special invitation set aside.
"This is for His Highness. Making him come like everyone else? Poor manners, no?"
Not that I'd forgotten our VIP.
I'd prepared it specially, just biding time, I quipped.
"Me reaching out first? Could look like I'm name-dropping the Imperial Family for a new venture."
Rectify self, regulate state, pacify world, right?
Most peaceful era in empire history—imperial power at its peak.
I'd tiptoed so carefully not to offend.
Taxes paid on time, too.
Did it work?
The near-silver beauty silently took the fanciest invitation.
"...I'll deliver it to my lord. And."
"And?"
"...One week from now. Clear your schedule."
She pocketed it carefully, downed her glass in one go.
"Thanks for the sudden visit. Farewell."
She bowed and melted into transparency, vanishing.
I waved casually, striking a pose after.
"Gone?"
"Yes, completely."
"Ha..."
"Well handled. Good thing you wrapped up that 'no interest in court politics' stance early."
"Yeah. Otherwise, this'd be daily."
All I wanted was my business, family time.
Maybe ogle some beauties on the side.
Why so intense?
I wanted to dump work on underlings, yet here I was, busiest.
Other rofans had protags coasting easy.
"Might as well milk this meeting for PR."
Imperial Family was celebrity-tier.
Time to recoup that sulk value, heh.
"Hm, so my little brother's stirring even the Shadow Moon Squad... What for, I wonder?"
A slender finger traced the gold-embroidered invitation.
Her delicate hand, untouched by rough work, deftly resealed the envelope.
"Everglow Family's third son?"
Blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight curved into crescents.
"This could be fun. It's not officially open yet?"
Swish—
Thin nightgown slipped to the floor.
She set the invitation on the vanity, blew out the lamp—soft moonlight filled the room.
The Imperial Princess, scented with Immergreen No.5—the perfume the third Everglow son made for his beloved mother—flopped onto the bed.