Chapter 12
Episode 12
It took barely a day to settle Philip's debts and have him pack up his remaining belongings.
In his now sole remaining asset—his mansion—Logan explained the tasks Philip would need to undertake moving forward.
"Even if I take you with me, you won't be formally employed by the family right away."
There was no need to mention the unpleasant truth that hiring him outright would damage Logan's already shaky reputation.
"So for now, I just need you to handle the tasks I assign."
"Understood, Lord Logan."
Despite likely having questions, Philip's response came without hesitation.
Was it because he saw no point in arguing after already signing a binding contract? Or was it simply a lack of enthusiasm?
Logan, still uncertain about Philip's potential, decided he needed to test him.
'I'll find out once I give him work.'
For now, rather than money-making ventures, he planned to start by leveraging Philip's merchant skills for procurement—specifically, the supplies needed for the imminent territorial war.
"Your first task is to purchase large quantities of cartridges, springs, and glue made from southern imperial ironwood."
"Huh?"
As Philip blinked in confusion, Logan skipped the explanation and instead detailed the required specifications.
"And I'd like to receive about a hundred samples in advance for testing."
"......Are you planning to make toys to sell?"
Setting aside his sarcastic tone and skeptical attitude, Philip's assumption wasn't entirely unreasonable—Logan had hired him to make money, after all.
"Hmm, something like that."
But there was no need to mention that these materials were actually for weapons of war.
For now, Logan just needed prototypes based on his past-life knowledge.
However—
"Southern imperial ironwood is durable, springs just need to meet specifications, and for crafting purposes, the stronger the adhesive, the better, right?"
"Correct."
"Then there's no need to buy them here or from the Empire."
Philip's response was swift—and unexpected.
"What?"
"Kingdom northern ironwood is sturdier than southern imperial ironwood. It's mainly produced in the Tritan Territory up north. There are plenty of craftsmen who work with ironwood, and naturally, they have their own adhesives. Personally, I think they're far superior to imperial products. Buying directly would also be cheaper than going through merchants here."
"Oh?"
This was news to Logan, who had only used such materials after the kingdom's fall as a mercenary.
"I still have connections from my father's time there. If you'd like, I can arrange for a hundred samples to be sent to MacLaine Territory on credit. Should I contact them?"
"......Do it."
Logan could only nod as Philip rattled off his suggestions without pause.
'More competent than I expected.'
Still, his assessment of Philip remained cautious.
So Logan proceeded to drop the next bombshell—an idea lucrative enough for even a struggling merchant like Philip to turn a profit.
It was, after all, based on future knowledge.
'He's going to freak out.'
With the mischievous glee of a child pulling a prank on a fussy friend, Logan delivered the next line with perfect nonchalance.
"And I'm planning to buy monster meat."
"Ah, I see—what?!"
Philip's shock was understandable.
Monsters weren't natural creatures—they were abominations that delighted in destruction and tormenting other living beings.
Some claimed they were remnants left behind by ancient Demon Kings or fiends. Others argued they were the fallout of lost civilizations.
There were even those who blamed dark mages for their existence.
While scholars debated their origins, one fact remained undisputed:
—Monsters were inherently hostile to other lifeforms, their flesh and blood tainted with toxins that harmed living beings and corrupted the environment even after death.
Thus, when monsters were slain, their bones and hides were salvaged—everything else was burned.
Only rare specimens with magically useful parts were harvested for specific purposes.
"My ears must be failing me—did you say meat? Haha, you must mean monster byproducts, right?"
"No. I meant meat."
"......Are you serious?"
Though his words were polite, Philip's expression screamed 'This guy's insane.'
Logan chuckled and elaborated.
"I want to purchase and stockpile meat from low-tier Karoks."
"......Karoks?"
Low-tier Karoks were boar-like monsters with horns protruding from their foreheads.
Despite resembling livestock, their blood was toxic—no sane person would consider them edible.
"Yes. Karok meat."
"You keep emphasizing meat... Are you saying someone actually eats that?"
"Just gather and stockpile it for me."
When Logan sidestepped the question and repeated his demand, Philip stared at him like he was looking at spoiled food.
His eyes screamed 'Are you out of your damn mind?' but he held back the words and instead tried reasoning.
"Monster meat should be incinerated. No matter how much you pay for it, you'll only lose money."
"Not this time."
"That's ridicu—"
Philip barely swallowed the insult, but Logan showed no signs of backing down—if anything, his eyes gleamed brighter.
"Sigh... Fine, if you insist. So, how much are you planning to spend?"
Finally surrendering, Philip threw up his hands and asked.
Logan's answer nearly made him jump out of his skin.
"A million."
"A million?! You've lost it!"
Philip's near-hysterical shout betrayed his unfiltered disbelief.
But Logan just grinned and doubled down.
"I can afford even more. Easily."
"Whatever rumor you heard isn't worth investing that much! For rumors to hold weight, you need irrefutable proof!"
Philip's face flushed red as his voice climbed higher—enough to draw glances from passersby outside.
But Logan remained unfazed.
"Proof will come. Guaranteed."
"What in the world...?"
By current common sense, Philip's reaction was perfectly normal.
But in just a few years, everything would change.
Next summer, an imperial magic tower would begin selling toxin-neutralizing agents for monster blood.
Not made from rare ingredients or magic—just common materials.
Though limited to low-tier monsters, the cost-effectiveness was unmatched.
So much so that anyone could replicate it if they knew the formula.
Since most mercenaries and hunters primarily targeted low-tier monsters, the neutralizing agent spread like wildfire across the continent.
Soon, regions suffering food shortages began consuming Karoks and other livestock-like monsters.
That same winter, shocking reports emerged—Karok meat had cured impotence.
Even men with physical injuries to their groins reportedly recovered.
When the Grandia Royal Magic Tower officially verified these claims, demand for Karok meat exploded—starting in the capital, Gran.
Within a year, Karoks—already a rare species—were hunted to extinction.
Afterward, their meat traded for more than its weight in gold—even as jerky.
Despite millennia of fighting monsters, humanity had never before driven a single species to extinction.
Yet, all it took was one study linking Karok meat to virility to wipe out an entire species.
'Hilarious, really.'
But explaining that he'd seen this future firsthand wasn't an option.
"I strongly oppose this... but you're certain?"
"Yes."
Resigned, Philip sighed and fell silent—but not for long.
"Then what price range are you considering per unit?"
"......Right now, Karok meat is worthless. Since no one buys it, they're probably just burning the carcasses."
Philip wondered why Logan would want it if he knew that, but didn't press further.
"So if you offer any payment for delivering the carcasses, 200 gold per head by kingdom transport rates should suffice. Bulk shipments would be even cheaper."
"Hoh. You've even considered transport costs. How thorough."
Philip's tone was praise wrapped in sarcasm—and irritatingly perceptive.
"Is my estimate wrong?"
"No. It's accurate."
"Then?"
"At that unit cost and a million budget... Were you planning to commission a kingdom-wide hunt through mercenary guilds and have me purchase the yield?"
"......Yeah. What's the problem?"
"The math checks out—but your approach is completely backwards."
"Huh?"
"Why pay mercenary premiums for something no one wants? You'd be throwing money at—ahem—I suddenly feel lightheaded."
"What the hell did you just—?"
Between the blatant 'you idiot' look and the hasty backtracking, Logan felt the same resentment from yesterday's 'scammer' accusations resurface.
But Philip quickly schooled his expression and continued.
"You need the meat, not the carcasses, right? And right now, it's all being discarded?"
"Yes...?"
"Then just post a guild request at beef prices and the problem solves itself."
"What?"
"Merchants will sell anything if there's profit. If it's literal trash, sourcing costs nothing—they'll trip over themselves to deliver."
"Huh..."
"Post that request, and you'll have every Karok in the kingdom delivered—butchered and ready."
Logan's jaw dropped silently.
'This bastard's already earning his keep.'
The future Empire's top-ten merchant wasn't just competent—he was scarily efficient.
"From now on, leave all money-related matters to me. My fate's tied to yours now, after all."
The words were reassuring—yet somehow left Logan with an uneasy ache in his chest.
"How much?"
"A 50,000-gold deposit. We'll buy smoked, sealed Karok meat or jerky at 1 gold per kilogram. With merchant guild guarantees. If the deposit runs out, we're prepared to add another 100,000 gold."
"Huh...?"
The deposit ensured merchants wouldn't waste their efforts—proof the request was legitimate.
Yet even with the contract signed, every guild member stared at Philip like he'd lost his mind.
"Insane..."
"Monster meat?"
"I heard the Claude Merchant House collapsed—did the owner snap?"
Whispers swirled, none of them kind.
Worse, word of the 'mad' client's identity spread, fueling even wilder rumors.
"Logan MacLaine... Why does that sound familiar?"
"Me too. Wait—the broken engagement!"
"Ah, the one who extorted money?!"
Yet despite the gossip, merchants clamored to take the job.
"Would you consider other monster meats?"
"We specialize in demon beast byproducts—if you're interested..."
Some eyed him like predators spotting prey, eager to sell him every monster's flesh.
Within two days of posting the request and depositing the funds, rumors exploded:
The disgraced MacLaine Baron's heir has gone mad—hoarding monster meat!
Logan's infamy spread like wildfire through Kyle's merchant circles.
"......My apologies. I didn't realize there was... history."
Philip bowed apologetically.
He had actively spread the rumors and notified multiple guilds—a tactic to accelerate the meat-gathering operation.
He just hadn't anticipated the backlash.
"Pfft—HAHAHA! Who cares? As long as the requests pour in, mission accomplished. Good job!"
The most unexpected reaction? Logan laughed, clapping him on the back.
"Th-Thank you... Haha."
Despite being insulted, he was praised.
Philip now seriously questioned Logan's sanity—but wisely kept that thought to himself.
Philip remained in Kyle to oversee ironwood imports and Karok meat shipments to MacLaine Territory.
For this, Logan entrusted him with a staggering 500,000 gold.
—As long as you handle my tasks, feel free to invest the rest. If you're confident, I'll even provide additional capital. Bonuses will be generous.
Having witnessed Philip's competence firsthand, Logan didn't hesitate.
Philip was more shocked at being trusted with such a sum.
'The money I saved thanks to him, anyway.'
Logan had budgeted 1.5 million for Kyle—but spent only 450,000.
Even accounting for the 150,000 ironwood costs, he'd saved over 900,000 gold.
So handing over—no, investing—the money was an easy decision.
If anything, Logan felt relieved.
'Philip Claude—funding mission cleared with flying colors.'
The 500,000 gold also symbolized the first step in securing a future financial backbone.
Of course, recruiting Philip was more about long-term planning than immediate survival.
Now, Logan needed talent for the first crisis—the territorial war.
'I need craftsmen.'
Skilled enough to turn user experience into reality.
'And ideally, instructors to train mercenaries.'
Someone capable of drilling the mercenary band Dwain was assembling.
Both plans required specialists—fortunately, Kyle had just the place to find them.