Chapter 28
You! Become part of my family.
It had always started with something terribly trivial.
"......Tonight?"
"They saw the broadcast of your public debate with Iris in the Holy Kingdom and got curious about you. They really want to meet you...... How could you not make time?"
Right after the public debate with Iris. I'd returned to Yurtel and was thinking of finally soaking in the hot springs at my lodging, letting my exhausted body go limp for a bit of rest. Then, out of nowhere, a call from the count.
I dragged myself up and went to see Count Albio, who—unlike his usual self—wore a stiff expression and made his request with unusual gravity.
"I know we agreed no consultations on weekday evenings. But this isn't just anyone...... Please, I beg you."
It was the first time I'd seen the count so rattled and tense.
By now, my own curiosity was piqued.
"Who is it?"
"Have you heard of the empire's richest commoner?"
My eyes widened.
The empire promoted talented commoners to nobility if they proved themselves through effort. Conversely, even storied noble houses could be demoted to commoner status instantly for business failures or grave mistakes.
The person they were discussing now was someone with more than enough talent to rise to nobility—but who stubbornly refused any title out of personal conviction.
The empire's richest commoner could only refer to one man.
"The chairman of the Wilhelm Dor Group?"
"Boyer Wilhelm Dor wants to meet you."
Definitely not just anyone.
The high-ranking officials and nobles I'd consulted for weren't lightweights by any means. But the figure the count mentioned was a cut above them all.
Over half the cars rolling through the empire came from the Wilhelm Dor Group. A titan of heavy industry—not just automobiles, but petrochemicals and magitech on a scale no one could ignore. For its leader to carve out time to see me...
It would be a lie to say I didn't want to sprawl out and rest after wrapping up a big job. But this was a scale beyond huge—it was colossal.
"Understood. I'll meet them. Should I start with a close aide, perhaps......"
"Aiden."
"Yes?"
"They're already on their way here."
"......"
"They said to tell you they'll arrive at your lodging in twenty minutes. And that they'll wait as long as necessary."
Boyer was the type who favored efficient, no-nonsense handling. He had zero patience for drawn-out games with aides—he went straight for the kill.
What could I do? When a titan like that came calling so insistently, I couldn't very well say I needed rest and to hold off.
"I'll meet them. I'll head back to the lodging."
That was all I could say.
Boyer looked like a cheerful old grandfather. And a massive eccentric.
He strode into my room sucking on a lollipop, dressed in a fine suit, and broke into a broad grin the moment he spotted me.
"An honor to—"
"Cut the chit-chat. You do fortunes with tarot cards, right? Is that really necessary? Or can you just look at me and know everything?"
True to form, he lobbed a fastball right out of the gate.
"I can tell without the cards. But sometimes I need time to read the information. And using the cards lets me explain through metaphors, which makes it easier to understand."
"You read all my info?"
"......Yes. Just did."
"Then ditch the cards and let's talk straight. I've got two sons. One's smart as hell but can't handle people. The other's dim but great at relationships. These little bastards are killing each other behind the scenes over who gets the group after I kick it. Sometimes I just wanna shoot 'em both."
A sharp crack echoed as Boyer's lollipop snapped in his mouth. He chewed it irritably, then fished out another from his pocket and popped it in.
"Which one should I hand the group to? I won't live forever. It's my biggest headache these days."
As Boyer's question hung in the air...
Branch point occurred.
Your one word will decide the future of the Wilhelm Dor Group!
I felt once more just how enormous the man I was consulting was. One word from me swaying an entire conglomerate? A chilling realization.
I eyed the three choices laid before me, then pulled out my tarot cards.
Boyer's face twisted.
"I said no cards. That's for silly women......"
"Nothing's as fitting for metaphors as the tarot. There are three answers to your question, Chairman. Pick the one you want."
Three cards lay between us: a massive fortress, raging rapids, and a golden path.
I pointed to the massive fortress.
"Your eldest, Walter Wilhelm Dor, is brilliant but poor with people, as you said. Hand him the group, and it becomes an impregnable fortress. It'll keep dominating heavy industry and autos."
"That guy running the group well? He's smart, sure, but too rigid—can't handle people."
"Yes. Which means no expansion into new fields. It'll stick to what it knows, becoming a company that clings to outdated necessities bit by bit. No more innovation. A frog in its own well."
"So, a fortress. Stable, but stagnant."
"No new heights, but no loss of strengths either. Dull and solid."
Boyer eyed the fortress card with dissatisfaction.
"What if I give it to the other one?"
I selected the second: raging rapids.
"Hand it to your second son, Georg Wilhelm Dor, and it'll be the opposite. He'll chase new ventures to escape the boredom."
"Sounds like him. People-pleaser with floppy ears. Dim head, but great network—loves jumping into new things without thinking."
"The group dives into everything. Most flop hard. But a few succeed, marking a pivot. The problem? The assets burned getting there."
"Gonna struggle till it stabilizes."
"Exactly."
Boyer crunched another lollipop viciously.
"And the last? That golden path looks promising."
I nodded, pointing to it.
"Best and highest for the group. But toughest for you to choose."
"Why?"
"It means no blood heir."
Boyer stared silently at the golden path card for a long moment.
"Who, then? The successor on this card."
"Jerry Mayer, current president of the group's auto division."
"Jerry?"
"The only one blending both sons' strengths to lead to peak prosperity. And you already know it—no need for me to say. Jerry Mayer's the best successor."
Boyer burst out laughing.
"Feels like you're in my head. Impressive, but anyone insightful could say that. I heard you were a great sage...... Kinda ordinary."
He looked bored. I nodded.
"Because you've already agonized over it and drafted a will leaving the group to Jerry Mayer, stashed in your safe. You came with your mind made up, so of course my words sound obvious."
Boyer's bored expression twitched, eyes wide in shock. I gave a faint smile.
"The real reason you rushed here isn't to ask who gets the group. It's worry: after Jerry takes over, will your sons stop fighting and cooperate? Or resent your decision and go astray? Am I wrong?"
Boyer stared silently, lollipop forgotten. Then he pulled it out, licked his lips, and fixed his gaze.
"What happens to my sons? Will they resent me and ruin the group?"
I shook my head.
"They'll understand your judgment. They know their flaws well—and that Jerry's the real leader. Relief, not resentment. Inheriting the group is a heavy burden for them."
"How can you be sure?"
"Walter sees a psychiatrist regularly. Sneak to his place, check the third drawer in his bedroom bathroom—left corner. Meds for extreme stress."
Boyer leaned forward, rapt. No boredom left.
"And ask Georg's friend and right-hand man, Executive Director Wilhelm, what Georg's been saying lately. He'll tell you Georg's hitting the bottle, terrified of tanking the group if he inherits."
"Georg drinking? And Walter on psych meds?"
"They hid it from you. Wanted to be perfect sons. But your expectations were breaking them. They know better than anyone they're not cut out to lead."
Boyer's eyes trembled, then steadied.
"I see. The answer was obvious, but I missed the human hearts behind it."
"The closer we are to something, the blinder we become. Share a drink with your sons, talk openly. You'll see I'm right. And pass the group to Jerry as planned."
"......"
"Walter takes research director. His smarts shine there, people skills aside. Georg handles HR—his eye for people is unmatched. Under all three, the group thrives."
Boyer pondered deeply, then chuckled, popping in another lollipop.
"Feels damn good. You're no ordinary guy."
I stood.
"Glad it's resolved. Heading out now? Or need more consultation? I can brew tea."
Boyer waved him off.
"No tea. Got a proposal."
"What......?"
"Shut down the fortune shop and join Wilhelm Dor. Meeting you sealed it. Want president? It's yours. Or executive advisor—perfect fit."
I shook my head.
"Sorry, I'm good as is."
"Sure, money-wise, you're set now. But I'm not just offering a job."
Cautiously, Boyer pulled a photo from his pocket. A stunning young woman smiled back.
"My granddaughter. Age matches yours, and look at her—quite the beauty. How about a blind date?"
This I hadn't foreseen. I couldn't see my own future, after all. Fortune or misfortune?
"Joining the group means you could steer it all, depending on you. What do ya say? Date?"
Boyer's eyes burned with desire. He was dead set on making me family.