Chapter 6: Who Is the Creator?

Carselia Empire's imperial palace. In an office where the sunlight of early summer poured through tall windows, a woman with lustrous golden hair cascading down was playfully rolling a ballpoint pen in her hand, gazing at it intently.

"Hm."

Her purple eyes narrowed into crescents.

A satisfied gleam. Yet laced with the characteristic greed of a politician, a calculating light that weighed profits against losses flickered through.

The woman smirked arrogantly and spun the pen in her hand once more.

"So, this is the hot item everyone's talking about? A ballpoint pen, was it?"

"Yes, Your Highness. A significant quantity has already been supplied to the major houses in the capital. Moreover, the trend that started among the nobility is spreading rapidly to the common folk."

"What? To the commoners? They don't have the money to buy something like this, do they? It's pretty expensive."

"Indeed, the pen you're using, Your Highness, trades at a high price. But there's a mass-produced version made separately and distributed at a low cost."

"...Oh? Targeting both the upper class and the masses at once? And it's working?"

The attendant nodded politely at the princess's question.

The princess chuckled and drew a line on a sheet of paper. A smooth, even stroke—no need to adjust like with a quill, and the ink flowed consistently.

"And... maintenance is as simple as capping it..."

She capped the pen. The corner of her mouth twitched upward ever so slightly.

The princess lightly ran her hand over a newly purchased notebook. This was another new product, they said—made by the same creator as the ballpoint pen. Unlike traditional paper made from cotton fabric, rags, or tree bark, it was a bit heavier but had a smooth surface that offered an exceptional writing feel. Ink smudging was minimal too.

Quills, paper... everything's been improved to an astonishing level. How did they advance this far so quickly?

She turned her head to eye the other stationery items. Pencils. Erasers. A pencil case with a "snap" clasp. Each one was leagues beyond anything before.

The pencil, introduced as a substitute for charcoal. It drew precise lines without dirtying the hands. Easy to store, simple to maintain, and straightforward enough for even children to use.

Then the erasers, released in quick succession. Far superior to the old bread crumb method—cleaner erasure, less dust, effortless cleanup.

Finally, the pencil case. It replaced the old ones, but with a simple locking mechanism that made it far more ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠portable.

'Snap'...

The princess focused on the snap fastener—what modern folks might call a snap button. Another entirely new invention. For now, it was only on pencil cases, but it screamed potential for bags, clothing, even military gear. This alone could spark massive change.

She slowly looked up at her attendant.

"So, one person invented all of this alone?"

"Yes."

"In just three months?"

"That's correct."

Her eyes flashed. Her purple irises brimmed with interest—and the greed of someone eyeing a once-in-a-century genius.

"Who is the one who invented all this?"

"We've confirmed it's Primo Aureon, the son of Baron Aureon from the southwest."

"Aureon... Aureon, huh..."

The princess tapped her capped pen against the notebook.

Recent reports. Pedigrees of frontier nobles. Rumors swirling through the empire. Recalling it all, she let out a scoff.

"Ah, right. That hopeless gambling addict, the total wastrel?"

"...To-tal was-trel? Your Highness, must you use such language again? I've told you countless times, it's unbecoming of imperial dignity—"

"Why? It's the truth. Soaked in gambling debts, siphoning off the family fortune bit by bit, and when that wasn't enough, taking out secret loans behind his father's back. Drove the house to the brink of bankruptcy. Lost all the farmland and mines that sustained the territory to the moneylenders."

The princess giggled, shrugging her shoulders.

"Wow. And that wastrel invented all this? In such a short time?"

"...Yes, Your Highness. Rumors say he set up a personal workshop and threw himself into research day and night."

"What? ...Hm, fascinating. An eccentric genius, then. Or he had a sudden personality change. Or maybe someone's backing him?"

Propping her chin, the princess smiled. Her purple eyes narrowed.

Primo Aureon. A low-rank frontier noble whose outrageous exploits had reached even the empire's heart. Him, inventing all this? Unbelievable.

Which made it all the more intriguing. She needed to meet him herself. If he was truly a genius, she couldn't let him fall into anyone else's hands.

Especially not her rival and little brother, the crown prince.

If I can get him under my thumb, I might gain the edge in the race for the throne.

Beaming at her attendant, the princess's eyes already shone with the leisure of calculated victory.

"This ballpoint pen... you said there was a special edition?"

"Ah, yes, Your Highness. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠As you'll see in the product guide from the Aureon Barony..."

The attendant handed over a catalog. Designed by the former webtoon artist Primo and duplicated via his ability, it featured eye-catching illustrations and clear explanations.

Another novel approach. Intuitive enough for even the illiterate to grasp.

And moreover. The princess examined another catalog. This one hadn't come to the palace—it was from the attendant's own family. Identical specs, perfect replication of layout and content.

Produced in this format... and distributed to multiple houses? Without a single discrepancy? Replication magic wouldn't turn a profit...

Her instincts screamed. This was no ordinary genius—far greater than she'd imagined. Assuming it was all truly Primo Aureon's doing.

"There are two special products."

"Two?"

"Yes. One is called 'custom'—pay a premium, and they make it to your specifications. Starts from two options."

"Hmm? Interesting. The other must be this one-option version?"

The attendant nodded and pointed to the price list.

1-Option. Plan A from Primo's Materialization skill. Top-tier materials for S-grade or higher perfection—the ultimate spec. Primo had added it himself with a 'hook just one sucker,' knowing it wouldn't sell but dangling it for any gullible fool.

The attendant cleared his throat awkwardly before adding,

"As you can see, the price is exorbitant. No one's bought it."

"Oh... is that so?"

"Yes. Spending that much on mere stationery..."

"Order it. Now."

The attendant froze, eyes wide.

The princess calmly closed her notebook as if it were nothing.

"No. I'll go myself."

"Y-Your Highness?"

"That one-option allows customizations too, right? Prepare the carriage and contract gold immediately."

Opportunity favored the bold.

And that day, the flower of the Carselia imperial court—Violette Lucieron de Carselia—loaded an unimaginable sum into a carriage and set off for the Aureon Barony.

Estelle entered the workshop. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead. Her face screamed heavy labor.

I chuckled and held out the bundle heavy with her hard-earned reward.

"Here."

"...Huh? Pardon?"

"Bonus. For all your hard work."

Exactly that. She'd busted her ass for three months straight.

Without her, I couldn't have even started the business.

I had to give credit where due. She was the real MVP.

No her, and sourcing materials would've been a nightmare.

So as soon as cash flow loosened, I stuffed a fat paycheck into the hands of my living tank.

Her eyes blinked rapidly. She stared at me like she couldn't believe it.

What, did I look like the type who wouldn't take care of this?

Her reaction left me feeling awkward. It was just fair pay, but the vibe got weird.

I cleared my throat and shoved the bundle at her again.

"You worked hard. It's only right. Take it before I change my mind."

"...Ah, yes. ...Thank you, Young Master."

Estelle took it in a daze. A faint smile soon spread across her face.

And right on cue, the familiar alert popped up.

Money really was king, huh. Huge jump in favorability.

Even in a romance fantasy world, capitalism ruled all.

Though hers had been climbing steadily for a while now.

Weird, right? I worked her like a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dog, yet it kept going up. Used to dip and rise, but lately? No more dips.

Masochist?

Whatever. Made her easier to boss around.

As I dismissed the alert, a new one popped up like it was waiting.

SP? What's this? All I knew were skill points and stat points.

Brimming with anticipation, I tapped the alert hard.