The Protagonist Is Always Busy
Once their business discussion wound down, the guild master subtly shifted the subject.
"Where shall we have lunch?"
I checked my watch. It was already lunchtime.
"Ah, so it is. Time flies."
"How about that restaurant you mentioned enjoying last time, young master?"
"Hmm..."
A restaurant sounded nice. The music had been pleasant, and the food was excellent. The fact that even the notoriously fastidious nobles of Sanctum Hill traveled down just to dine there spoke volumes. But something gave me pause. I glanced briefly at Eri.
A restaurant frequented by Sanctum Hill nobility. I highly doubted this girl knew the first thing about fine dining etiquette.
If I hand her a steak knife, she'll probably hold it in a reverse grip.
The nobles would point and sneer, and Eri, sensing she had done something wrong, would leave with nothing but bitter memories. I didn't want her first experience of high society to be one of humiliation and inadequacy. So, I subtly steered the guild master toward a different option.
"Regrettably, this wasn't planned, so we aren't dressed for the occasion. Would it be possible to go somewhere else? Somewhere more casual would be preferable."
The guild master blinked, caught off guard. I gave a subtle nod in Eri's direction.
Gustav looked at Eri, puzzled.
Right on cue, Eri sniffled loudly and wiped her nose with her sleeve. Even clad in fine silk, the untamed nature of the Limbus Pit was not so easily concealed. Realization flashed in Gustav's eyes.
"Ah! Haha!" The guild master slapped his knee. "As it happens, I've been quite partial to buffets lately! There's a wide variety of food, and the atmosphere is incredibly relaxed. Would that suit you, young master?"
"That sounds perfect."
And so, lunch was decided. Eri tilted her head. She seemed to sense something unusual was happening, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what.
She hasn't learned the art of reading between the lines yet.
Well, she had plenty of time to learn.
"Let's head there, then."
Yes, she was at an age where she was growing rapidly. Today, she could eat to her heart's content.
The place Julian and his companions arrived at was a restaurant called Gastro & Gusto. It was one of the budget-friendly buffets contracted by the Merkur Merchant Guild for employee welfare.
Chime. As the door swung open with a light ring, Eri froze in her tracks.
"..." Her jaw dropped so low it looked ready to unhinge.
Calling it a restaurant felt like an understatement; the space was vast, colossal, and radiating heat. It was, for all intents and purposes, a massive culinary factory.
Hiss— hiss— White steam billowed from beneath long rows of brass tables. Hot water pipes running underneath kept the dishes warm. Atop them, mountains of steaming roasted turkey and thick, juicy steaks were piled high.
On the opposite side, cooling machines hummed, breathing out a frosty chill. Atop mounds of ice that wouldn't melt even in the dead of summer, colorful fruits and ice creams were displayed like precious gems. Staff members scurried about frantically, refilling the trays before they could ever run empty.
"Is all of this... actually food we can eat?" Erika muttered blankly.
In the slums, people drew knives over a single moldy crust of bread. Yet here, an amount of food a person couldn't finish in a lifetime was being piled high, with cold leftovers discarded without a second thought. It was the violent weight of overwhelming abundance. Before the girl could even process the sting of relative deprivation, she was utterly spellbound.
"What are you doing? Aren't you going in?"
"Can I really eat anything I want?"
"Just pile whatever you like onto your plate."
"Is there a limit on how many times I can go back?"
"None."
"Does the owner of this place even want to make money?"
Julian let out a soft chuckle at her question. I wonder if she has any idea how much the admission fee is. Even if Eri sat here for twenty-four hours straight, chewing her cud like a cow, the restaurant would still turn a profit.
"Don't worry about things like that. Just eat as much as you want."
"Ehehe..."
Letting out a silly, goofy giggle, she allowed herself to be guided to their table. Julian held her hand tightly so she wouldn't get lost, completely forgetting that he himself was technically only a twelve-year-old child in this body. The way he looked after Erika made them look exactly like a pair of close, affectionate siblings—a sight heartwarming enough to bring fond smiles to the faces of the adults watching them.
After stopping Erika, who was already trying to load up her plate before even finding their table, the party settled into a private room.
"...Doctor."
"Yes?"
"Do nobles eat stuff like this all the time?"
Inside the private room, Erika asked her question just before they went out to grab food. Julian raised his water glass without answering, offering only an ambiguous smile that was neither a yes nor a no.
In truth, the genuinely wealthy never set foot in buffets. The lack of required table manners simply meant there was no opportunity to flaunt one's refinement. The true upper class preferred to establish their social hierarchy over multi-course meals at high-end restaurants; they would never deign to stand in line to scoop their own food. A buffet was a dining establishment for the middling middle class—those who were slightly well-off by commoner standards but fell short of even the nouveau riche.
But there was no need to throw cold water on an excited child.
"Don't worry about that. Just go and fill your plate with whatever you want."
"...Really? You won't regret it?"
"Yes. Eat to your heart's content."
Eri sprang to her feet. She still couldn't understand why he was being so incredibly kind to her. But just because she didn't understand didn't mean she would refuse. If this happiness was fleeting, she had to enjoy it as much as possible before it vanished. Clutching her plate, she scurried off toward the food tables.
Yet, her fierce determination was perceived entirely differently by the others.
"Haha. Children that age ought to be spirited."
The guild master wore a warm, paternal smile as he watched her go. Erika had stood up with a solemn resolve in her heart, but to the guild master and Julian, it looked like something else entirely. In their eyes, she was simply an impatient, ill-mannered child who had rushed off to grab food before her host, ignorant of proper etiquette.
As Erika's guardian, Julian bowed his head slightly to the guild master.
"My apologies. She has yet to learn self-restraint."
"Not at all. It's actually quite endearing." The guild master lifted his teacup. "By the way, young master, I have some more good news."
"What is it?"
"You are aware that the Imperial Commerce Bureau will soon be conducting its grade evaluations, yes?"
"Yes, I am."
The world within the brass walls was finite. The land, the resources, and the people—all of it was limited. In such a world, unfettered competition inevitably led to monopolies, which in turn bred chaos within the walls. The Commerce Bureau was an institution born from the lessons of those past failures.
Their role was simple: evaluate the scale and influence of each merchant guild, assign them a grade, and levy taxes and obligations accordingly. In return, they provided corresponding benefits and protection. Those who possessed more contributed more, and those who contributed more received greater privileges. It was, in essence, a system of structured reciprocity.
"Fufufu..."
Having brought up the Commerce Bureau, Gustav suddenly let out a sly chuckle. His face was practically screaming what he wanted to say, but Julian played along and prompted him.
"And what of the Commerce Bureau? Have we perhaps underreported our taxes?"
"Heh. No, of course not."
"Then have we violated some imperial decree?"
"Nooo~"
With every incorrect guess Julian offered, the guild master's grin widened. Just as Julian was beginning to think the man's behavior was growing more uncouth by the day, the guild master finally stopped teasing and revealed the answer.
"It seems we are highly likely to be promoted to a Second-Class Guild."
"Ah, I see. Congratulations."
"It is entirely thanks to you, young master! Without Quinine and Insulin, this would have been nothing but a pipe dream!"
Despite Julian's dry reaction, Gustav flapped his arms in exaggerated excitement, his jowls quivering. A Second-Class Guild was a grand guild—an enterprise of a scale that traded across multiple cities, not just one. A guild that had been on the brink of bankruptcy just a few years ago had now become a nationwide powerhouse.
"Once we fully secure the success of Insulin, we'll be leading the pack even among the Second-Class grand guilds!"
The guild master rambled on in his excitement. Julian clapped politely from across the table. It wasn't that he wasn't pleased. The Merkur Merchant Guild was, after all, Julian's guild as well. He served as a director and held a fourteen percent stake. (For reference, the guild master held sixteen percent.)
Thus, Julian was internally cheering, celebrating what felt like the miraculous sky-rocketing of an Nvidia stock. Yet, his expression remained as cool and detached as ever. He had a reputation and a persona to maintain.
"This is indeed excellent news."
"It is all thanks to you, Director!"
Suddenly bursting into tears, the guild master lunged forward to embrace Julian. Julian leaned back smoothly, evading the guild master's clutches. Fortunately, the table between them acted as a barrier, keeping the emotional merchant at bay. Embarrassed, the guild master sank back into his seat. Dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief, he spoke.
"But you see..."
"?"
"With the promotion, won't our taxes increase as well?"
"..."
"*Sob.* How is a humble merchant like me supposed to make a living when the Empire takes everything?"
Julian stared at him in silence, fighting a powerful urge to tell him to stop talking nonsense. In this highly stratified world, a guild's rank was far more than just an empty title. A guild's grade functioned much like a noble title. When a guild's rank rose, its leaders acquired certain aristocratic privileges despite lacking noble blood. A Second-Class Guild carried the weight of a Baron or a Viscount. In other words, the guild master now possessed the right to enter and leave Sanctum Hill freely without prior authorization.
Doubling their taxes was hardly a harsh punishment. Given the exclusive monopolies and privileges granted to a Second-Class Guild, even tripling their taxes would still leave them laughing all the way to the bank. Thus, Julian watched the weeping Gustav with a thoroughly unimpressed gaze.
No matter how I look at it, his nouveau riche aura isn't just because of his face.
Meanwhile, Erika found herself standing at the crossroads of a monumental, life-altering decision.
"Mutton or pork..."
There was only a tiny sliver of space left on the edge of her plate. The question was which meat deserved to occupy it. Just then, a voice spoke from behind her.
"Excuse me, young lady."
She turned to find an elderly man with snow-white hair. He wore an impeccably tailored black suit. Though his back was slightly bowed with age, the sheer elegance radiating from his posture completely overshadowed it. It was a familiar face. He was the old man who had seen the young master off at the mansion in Sanctum Hill—the head butler of the Nihilit family, Wilhelm.
"...Huh?" Erika blinked. "You're... the head butler, right? But why are you here...?"
The old butler bowed with a warm, gentle smile.
"This old servant simply could not overcome his curiosity regarding the very first person the young master has chosen to keep by his side. Please forgive my intrusion."
"Did you follow us?"
"Let us call it an escort."
Erika was left speechless.
"I am Wilhelm, the head butler. It is an honor to meet you."
"No, no! Please don't do that!" Erika waved her hands frantically.
Until just a few days ago, the highest authority she knew was Wangcho. For those living in the dark alleys of the slums, that was the absolute limit of their world. Yet now, she was surrounded by a young master who made Wangcho look like a mere speck, a wealthy guild master, and now a grand butler. It was enough to make her head spin.
"You shouldn't bow to me like that. I'm just... just an assistant."
At her denial, Wilhelm's brow twitched imperceptibly.
"If I may ask, where do you hail from?"
"...The Tanner's District in the Limbus Pit," Erika answered honestly.
There was no point in hiding it. Her background would show eventually anyway. Besides, she didn't dare lie to this veteran butler. But the old butler's reaction was entirely unexpected.
"Is that so?" He bowed even lower. "Then it is all the more reason for me to show you the utmost respect."
"...What?" Erika was utterly bewildered.
The old butler spoke softly. "Young lady. Do you know who it is that has chosen you?"
"Dr. Schnabel... I mean, the young master."
"The young master... Haha." The butler's gaze drifted toward the private room in the distance. Through the glass, they could see Julian conversing with the guild master. Unlike the gaudy, nouveau riche guild master, Julian exuded an untouchable, innate dignity that was palpable even from afar. "To describe that gentleman merely as a 'young master' might very well be an understatement bordering on disrespect."
Erika fell silent at the old butler's quiet remark. Her eyes drifted back to Julian, who was holding his teacup with a calm, indifferent expression. He looked like a natural-born noble patiently humoring a boisterous commoner.
"...I know," Erika mumbled, lowering her head. "That's why I don't understand. The young master is a genius. He's like a wizard who can create medicine with a wave of his hand. So why did he choose me of all people? Is someone like me even allowed to stand by his side...?"
This undeserved stroke of fortune granted to a slum orphan felt less like a blessing and more like walking on thin ice that could shatter at any moment. But the old butler shook his head.
"You are mistaken, young lady." His voice was low, yet firm. "The reason I consider 'young master' an inadequate title is because it is not mere bloodline that makes him noble."
"Pardon?"
"By the same token, calling him a genius may also be a disservice. It sounds as though one is praising only the final result, entirely ignorant of the immense, unseen efforts he has poured out beneath the surface."
The old butler paused, staring intently at Erika. She nodded blankly. Signaling for her to follow, the old butler began to stroll leisurely toward the food tables. His steps were as natural as if he were taking a walk in a garden. Erika found herself following him without even realizing it.
"Do you know how many times he has failed, young lady?"
"...I don't."
"Of course. People only ever look at the finished masterpiece. They remain blind to the blood, sweat, and tears required to bring that result to fruition."
The old butler stopped in front of the heated meat section. He glanced at Erika's plate, noting the tiny empty space.
"Ah, I highly recommend the mutton. The rosemary aroma is exquisite. There is no better dish for one's introduction to mutton."
"Ah... yes."
Clink. Wilhelm picked up a pair of silver tongs and personally placed a piece of meat onto Erika's plate.
"...!" As Erika flinched and tried to step back in surprise, he continued smoothly. "Young lady. Would you answer a question for this old man?"
Gazing at the steaming steaks, he spoke in a low, contemplative murmur.
"A noble born with nobility etched into their very blood. A genius gifted with divine talent who changes the world with ease. And..." The old butler's gaze slowly drifted back to Erika. "One who was born with nothing, yet walks a path of thorns alone, bearing a noble mission upon their shoulders."
His eyes grew deep and solemn.
"Of these three, which do you believe is the most radiant title?"
Erika caught her breath. She wanted to answer, but her lips refused to move. The butler smiled warmly, as if her silence was the perfect answer.
"Then, let me ask you one final question. To stand by the side of such a person, what kind of individual do you believe you must become?"
"..." Erika parted her lips, but no sound came out. It wasn't because she didn't know the answer. It was because she instinctively sensed the immense weight she would have to carry the moment she gave voice to it.
Perhaps reading her hesitation, the old butler's eyes crinkled gently.
"You do not need to answer me right away. If the clothes are too large, one simply needs to grow into them. I see more than enough potential in you, young lady."
"..."
"Now, let us proceed. The meat will get cold."
As if they had never shared such a heavy conversation, the old man turned toward the dessert corner with his usual benevolent smile. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he paused and whispered in a voice only Erika could hear.
"Oh, by the way, did you know?"
"?"
"This old man also used to eat the 13th Standard Block in his youth. My absolute least favorite thing in the world was getting cricket legs stuck in my teeth."
"...Huh?"
The 13th Standard Block. It was the mass-produced cricket nutrition bar distributed to the poor by the city to maintain a bare-minimum labor force. And for the head butler of Sanctum Hill to mention such a thing...
Erika's eyes went wide.
But the old butler simply placed a finger to his lips, signaling her to keep quiet, and gave a playful wink.
"There is no reason you cannot do the same, young lady. Hold your head high."
"...!"
Bowing politely, he turned away. "I wish you a pleasant meal, young lady."
Left alone, Erika stood frozen for a long time. Amidst the bustling noise of the crowded buffet, the plate in her hands felt impossibly heavy.