Chapter 26
Chapter 26
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 26
Chapter Title: The Greatest Show on Earth
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Currently, the number of slaves in House Riddle had grown ridiculously large.
Slaves were originally an ambiguous commodity—high maintenance costs with limited uses.
No matter how many you had, they just drained money without much practical application.
Thus, even the wealthiest tycoons typically owned slaves scaled to the size of their estates or farms.
That was the rational approach.
But through my "slave dispatch business," I had created an endless demand.
On top of that, by investing surplus manpower into the "tofu business," I had secured a virtual monopoly in the tofu market.
Tofu wasn't that hard to make...
But it wasn't something you could whip up without any know-how either.
As food, quality was paramount above all else.
Plus, the production process varied depending on the type—soft tofu, silken tofu, firm tofu, or even soy meat.
By putting slaves into workshops to build expertise,
and sharing that accumulated know-how among them,
we could now produce tofu on the level of 21st-century master artisans.
For reference, I had stuffed myself sick sampling it all.
Who else but me could tell if the tofu was done right or if we were on the right track?
I was the only one who knew the "advanced" paths of the 21st-century market.
The slaves' tofu was probably tastier than the Joseon tofu that supposedly wowed Ming envoys.
Anyway, in this manner, I was literally "absorbing" slaves from the market.
"The Parkinson family has sent the slave catalog."
"Ah, that came today?"
The Parkinson family, stripped bare by me at the auction,
had learned of my massive slave acquisitions and positioned themselves as my exclusive supplier.
Better to sell at a discount for steady business than put them up for auction and get fleeced.
Slaves were a product with erratic demand to begin with.
Considering management costs,
it was probably easier for them to offload slaves immediately—better asset management all around.
"A bit late this month."
"The Parkinson family has been distracted lately with inheritance and succession issues. If only Count Parkinson had more children."
"I see."
"It'd be easier to leave operations to a steward and just draw from family funds like we do, but they live so complicatedly."
"Guess I'm just an ATM..."
For the record, House Riddle's wealth belonged to the "house," not individuals.
So no inheritance squabbles.
Though anyone harming the house's assets got treated like vermin.
"So, the new slaves... Hm?"
"What's wrong?"
"The catalog format's a bit different from last time."
"Pardon?"
Looking over the catalog Torsso handed me,
it was far from the neatly organized ones we usually got from the family.
Fewer slaves listed,
and the contents felt off somehow.
Torsso double-checked and sighed, nodding.
"Ah, this is the defective goods catalog. Looks like they sent the wrong one—meant for somewhere else."
"Defective goods...?"
The term from Torsso's lips made my body twitch involuntarily.
Defective goods.
Too sharp and cold a word for people.
Ominous.
Just like the times since possessing this world,
an ominous feeling washed over me.
"Yes. Born without arms, unusually small stature, one-eyed, two-headed... that sort of defective goods."
"......"
"There are eccentrics who buy them for display or collections. Or... to indulge certain perverted tastes. Not suitable for us. Buying this would tarnish a noble's reputation."
"......Did House Riddle even have a reputation?"
"Not buying useless trash for money—that's House Riddle's reputation."
"Ah, that kind..."
I mumbled a vague reply and stared blankly at the catalog.
And then.
I removed my glove and placed my hand on the catalog.
I saw a man inspecting if the listed products matched the actual goods.
And the "defective goods" caged like livestock.
Their forms varied wildly.
Some slaves towered like giants, others were dwarfed like midgets.
One had lips split to its ears, another arms so long its hands reached its feet.
Some resembled monkeys, others fish.
There were ball-like slaves without limbs,
and twins born fused together.
The man muttered to himself, trying to shake off his fear.
They were slaves without even the energy to rebel,
neglected more horrifically than others,
yet he feared them solely because they "looked ugly."
This was a different breed of "villainy" from what I'd seen before.
Revulsion.
Beyond mere dehumanization,
treated as loathsome filth.
The first time I saw a slave,
I was shocked that "people could make that face."
I couldn't have known the expression of a soul-lost person before possessing this world.
And now,
reading the memories lingering in this catalog,
I, a mere modern man,
learned for the first time that "one person could make another" wear that face.
"......Torsso."
"Yes, Your Excellency."
"Tell them we're buying all the 'defective goods' in this catalog."
"......Pardon?"
"......"
"......Understood. I'll inform them House Riddle is purchasing them all."
Torsso nodded and left the office with the catalog.
Exhausted.
I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes briefly.
"......"
What could I do for those "cursed beings"?
What could I change?
What existed in my past life but not this world?
In that moment of contemplation,
a certain movie came to mind.
"......Ah, right."
If people saw them as devils,
I just had to teach them how cool devils could be.
A few days later, I visited the territory's underground prison.
Inside, a man trembled at the sight of armed soldiers.
Golden Ear's soldiers.
Their infamous ruthlessness in killing without hesitation terrified him.
"Your Excellency. You've arrived."
"Yes. This the Kraus guy?"
"Yes."
"Hm... Better looking than I expected."
The man I'd had soldiers drag in
was indeed a villain from the original story.
Not a murderer,
but a con artist.
A specialist in framing the protagonist and manipulating public opinion—
a "sweet potato plot" expert.
"You're the empire's top con man, right?"
"Wh-what do you mean...? I-I don't know why a noble like you would summon a wretch like me, but it seems there's a misunderstanding."
"Drag him out."
"Yes!"
Soldiers hauled the babbling con artist from the cell.
With arms gripped, he began sniffling in terror.
"S-sorry! I just needed money—"
"I need your talents."
"Pardon?"
"Your flimsy skill at deceiving with lies and bluster—that's what I need."
"......"
Kraus cautiously gauged my expression,
then instantly dropped the sniffling act for a delighted grin.
Apparently, even the coward routine was fake.
"How much are you offering?"
"Your life."
"Too generous to refuse..."
The con artist grumbled but nodded.
What guts...
Probably calculated it'd build trust.
I had no intention of falling for it.
On the contrary, this con artist would fall for me.
"And I'll make your name live in history."
"Pardon?"
"I'll put 'myth' and 'legend' before the name Kraus—not lies or bluster."
"......"
"Not a bad deal, right?"
"......I'll hear the details first."
"Hah."
He'd nodded earlier without asking what the request was.
Meaning he planned to bolt no matter what.
"Haha... As a con man, you know..."
"Very trustworthy."
"So, what proposal does a noble have for a lowly con like me?"
"I'm making a circus."
"Pardon?"
Kraus blinked blankly.
Too sudden and out-of-left-field, no doubt.
But he'd understand once I explained.
And accept my offer.
Because no one craved fame more than him.
"What's a circus?"
"Ah... You don't know..."
......That was the start.
"The greatest show on earth."
"The greatest show on earth...?"
"Yes. I want you to create the most spectacular show in history."
"......I don't do acrobatics."
"Don't need that. We're not selling acrobatics."
"Then what are we selling?"
"Lies."
"Lies...?"
"We're selling lies more dazzling and grand than truth."
As my explanation ended,
Kraus beamed brightly.
"That's exactly what I do best."