Prior Research Is Essential Before a Raid
Prior research is essential before pulling off a raid. Madame, the de facto chairwoman of Frida, the largest clothing store in the Empire. The deep nasolabial folds on her face and the twitching corners of her mouth practically dripped with greed. Her overall appearance closely resembled a wicked witch. She looked to be in her late forties or older. Franche looked down at Madame, concealing her mouth behind her fan.
"I would like to commission a custom piece for the first time in a while. I trust there won't be any issues?"
"Of course, my lady! Since it is a request from Lady Decartes herself, it would be our absolute honor!" Madame rubbed her palms together, practically salivating. She seemed thrilled at the prospect of milking the Decartes family for all they were worth, completely oblivious to what lay ahead.
"I would prefer to discuss the details in the dressing room."
"Right away, my lady! Please, follow me upstairs!"
Franche glanced back, catching my eye. It was a silent command to follow. I nodded and whispered to Kazar, who was currently engrossed in admiring the dresses on display.
"Stop window-shopping. Let's go up."
"Ah, right." Kazar still couldn't tear her eyes away from the ornate gowns, looking thoroughly reluctant to move.
"There are plenty of even better dresses upstairs. You can look at those."
Only then did Kazar's eyes sparkle as she finally let go of her lingering attachment. It seemed her inability to wear fine dresses back in her hometown had left a deep, unfulfilled longing in her heart.
Once we launch our fashion business, I should probably give her a few.
Franche called out, "Are you two not coming?"
"Coming!"
With that, Kazar and I followed closely behind Franche, climbing the stairs. The upper floor was filled with even more extravagant and luxurious gowns, and there was even a section dedicated entirely to fine jewelry and accessories. Kazar leaned in and whispered in my ear.
"Wow, a clothing store in the Imperial Capital really is something else."
"Only this one is."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. That's how they managed to monopolize the clothing industry across the entire Empire." Though I was the one planning to build a franchise. Thinking about it again, Madame really was a shrewd businesswoman.
Well, at least for now... There was still a chance to seize the Frida brand. For now, they only dealt in clothing, jewelry, and accessories. I planned to expand far beyond that and, most importantly, hollow out the core of their apparel business. Devouring them was only a matter of time.
Franche and Madame began their conversation.
"What kind of gown does my lady desire for this commission~?"
"I wish to order a dress for the upcoming imperial gala. I want a black gown that suits me."
Madame's lips curled upward as she smiled with her eyes. "A black dress! A simple request indeed! Please, tell me more about the specific silhouette and design you have in mind!"
While Franche and Madame discussed the dress, I surveyed the shop. They must have hired a massive number of professional jewelers, given the overwhelming quantity of gems on display. Kazar wandered around like a child in a candy store, her eyes sparkling. Why is she acting so provincial? I sidled up to her and whispered.
"Don't get too excited. Remember who we're with."
"I can't even look?"
"You're looking a bit too intensely."
"I've never seen dresses like this in my entire life..." Kazar's shoulders slumped.
"I'll have a mind-blowing dress made for you later, so look forward to that instead."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Consider it a welcoming gift for Lady Uplain joining Franche Corporation."
At the mention of Franche Corporation, Kazar's face grimaced again. Hey, what's wrong with Franche Corporation?
"Just what are you planning to use that bizarre name for anyway?"
"It's the name of our future merchant coalition."
"I feel like absolutely no one will ever use a merchant group with a name like that."
She didn't have to be so deadpan about it.
"Ahem. Anyway, just maintain your dignity for now. Our behavior reflects directly on the Lady's reputation."
Kazar nodded quietly and fell back in line behind Franche. The two women were still deep in conversation about the dress.
"At any rate, this is the kind of dress I wish to have made."
"It might take some time, but that won't be an issue! We happen to have an exceptionally talented designer among our staff!"
"How fortunate." Franche unfurled her fan, concealing her lower face. Is that like a basic requirement for noble ladies?
"When would you like it completed by?"
"As long as it's before the imperial gala. A month should suffice."
"A month is more than enough!"
We had successfully steered the conversation this far. Now, all that was left was for Franche to express her desire to visit the factory. I stepped closer to Franche and murmured.
"We need to know the location of the factory."
"I am well aware." Franche looked down at Madame once more and spoke.
"Before I settle the payment, there is one thing I require."
"And what might that be~?"
"I wish to oversee the production process of my dress."
"...Pardon?" *Snap.* Franche folded her fan and tapped it against her palm.
"I said I wish to watch the production process. Is there a problem?"
As soon as Franche cut to the chase, Madame's face contorted with unease.
"I am terribly sorry, but we cannot show you the production process..."
"And why is that?"
"The manufacturing takes place elsewhere, and it is hardly a place fit for a lady of your stature..."
Franche narrowed her eyes, glaring coldly at Madame.
"Is that not for me to decide?"
Madame avoided her gaze, her fingers twitching nervously. She definitely has something to hide.
"I shall repeat myself. I wish to see the process of my dress being made."
It was a clear warning that there was no way out, bordering on a threat. Madame bit her lip and replied.
"T-Then, I shall arrange a schedule."
"No. I wish to go see it right now."
"..."
Yes, Franche. Excellent call. Madame looked utterly cornered. She had likely planned to show us some decent showroom instead of the actual sweatshop where the 'Ill-Fated Golden Talent' was being exploited. But that wasn't going to happen. We were going right now.
Once we located the factory, we planned to orchestrate a mass escape for the exploited workers and bring them over to our side. But the ultimate prize was the 'Ill-Fated Golden Talent.' He was the key figure who would catapult Franche Corporation to the heavens the moment Frida collapsed.
Franche asked, "Is there something troubling you?"
"No, it's not that, but..."
"Then you will let me see the production, yes?"
"Understood. However, it is quite a distance from here. Will that be alright?"
"Fine."
I whispered a few words into Franche's ear. Hearing my suggestion, she nodded in agreement.
"Madame."
"Y-Yes?"
"Just so we are clear, I already know what you are trying to hide. It would be wise not to try any clever tricks."
"Pardon? What do you mean by...?"
"I mean that I wish to meet the actual designer who will be crafting my gown."
"...!" Madame's face fell, looking as though a heavy anchor had just plunged into the depths of her soul. Judging by her reaction, she had indeed intended to divert us to a dummy factory.
"You understand exactly what I mean, don't you?"
"..." *Gulp.* Madame swallowed hard, as if forcing down a stone. With a stiff, pale face, she nodded.
"...I understand. Then, please follow me."
Madame had plenty of reasons to keep the factory hidden. The main factory was, quite literally, a hellish sweatshop. Every single worker was severely overworked and barely paid a pittance. While most nobles wouldn't spare a second thought for such peasants, this was a secret Madame desperately wanted to keep under wraps. She couldn't afford to let anyone see the ugly, rotten foundation upon which Frida, the largest and most prestigious brand in the Empire, was built.
Furthermore, she absolutely did not want anyone laying eyes on the 'Ill-Fated Golden Talent,' who was the very heart and soul of Frida. Without him, Frida's downfall was a foregone conclusion.
This was the dark truth behind Frida, the Empire's top clothing brand. Back when I was clearing this quest in the game, I remember throwing a massive fit, cursing at how incredibly messed up this factory was. Perhaps because it felt like something that could easily happen in real life, I had ended up getting way too emotionally invested.
"Let us go."
We boarded Madame's carriage. Madame and I sat on one side, while Franche and Kazar sat opposite us. Madame slid open the small window to the driver's seat and spoke to the coachman.
"...To Frida's 1st Factory."
"Yes, ma'am."
*Clack-clack.* The carriage rattled as it set off. Along the way, Madame spoke up hesitantly.
"Lady Decartes, if I may ask... why are you so intent on seeing the production process?"
"Why? Is there something I shouldn't be seeing?"
"No, of course not. It is merely out of simple curiosity..."
Franche tilted her head slightly and let out a soft chuckle. "I, too, am merely acting out of simple curiosity."
Oh, man. That slight tilt of the head, the mocking chuckle, and that incredibly arrogant expression. She was the textbook definition of a villainess straight out of the game.
She used to torment Somire with that exact face. Thinking back to those days made me miss my life as Kim Gongryak, the gaming YouTuber with a million subscribers. It wasn't exactly a healthy lifestyle, but I slept when I wanted, ate when I wanted, and streamed when I wanted.
Reminiscing about the past only left a bitter taste in my mouth. I looked out the window to distract myself, but nothing changed. I barely managed to suppress a sigh.
I'm getting too caught up in useless thoughts. I turned to see what Kazar was doing, only to find her sitting stiff as a board, staring blankly out the window. Well, it made sense. A lady from a rural barony wouldn't be used to this kind of high-society tension. In fact, her past lifestyle could hardly even be called noble.
On top of that, the atmosphere inside the carriage was suffocating. Franche was tapping her fan against her palm, while Madame looked like she was on the verge of a panic attack. The heavy silence bred a strange, suffocating tension. If even I felt uncomfortable, I could only imagine how miserable Kazar must be.
After what felt like an eternity in that awkward silence, the carriage finally ground to a halt.
"We have arrived."
I immediately opened the door, stepped down, and offered my hand to assist the ladies. Once everyone had disembarked, I surveyed our surroundings. The desolate streets suggested we were right on the outskirts of the Imperial Capital. Directly ahead stood a massive wooden mansion, flanked by several smaller, warehouse-like structures.
Madame spoke. "This is the place."
"Do you truly manufacture garments in a place like this?"
"Yes."
"Hmm." Franche smirked at Madame. "Madame, there is no need to look so terrified. As I said, I merely wish to see how my gown is crafted. Whatever goes on here, and whatever you choose to do, is none of my concern, is it?"
Only then did Madame's tense expression soften slightly as she nodded.
"...Then, please step inside. I shall show you the production process of your commissioned gown. You will only be able to see the initial stages, but I trust that is acceptable?"
"Very well," Franche replied, once again hiding her mouth behind her fan. Yeah, that fan thing is definitely a mandatory noble lady skill.
Stepping inside, the scene was identical to what I had witnessed in the game. One person to a desk, each silently sewing away. Every single one of them had hollow, lifeless eyes and dark, heavy bags bruised under their eyelids. Moving purely on muscle memory, the exhausted workers didn't even register our entrance.
If this isn't slavery, I don't know what is. It wasn't as if these people were criminals serving a sentence. They had all ended up here due to their own desperate circumstances, with garment-making being their only marketable skill. And Frida was the only major clothing franchise in the Empire where they could find work.
I was barely keeping my own head above water, so I didn't exactly have the luxury of playing savior to others. Still, anyone with a shred of humanity would feel their blood boil at this sight. Even Franche and Kazar, nobles of this world, frowned and shifted their gazes uncomfortably, clearly displeased by the grim spectacle.
Madame spoke up. "The designer in charge of your commission is further inside."
We followed Madame deeper into the facility. Reaching the innermost room, a man caught my eye. He was slumped in a chair at a massive desk, half-asleep while mechanically working.
He had disheveled blonde hair and dull, lifeless red eyes. He looked to be in his mid-twenties. Despite his terrible condition, his face was breathtakingly handsome—a true testament to the aesthetics of an otome game. The Ill-Fated Golden Talent.
Andrea. The genius who would guarantee the absolute success of Franche Corporation's fashion empire.