Chapter 5
Chapter 5
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Iron Mine Windfall
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“Damn! Damn!! Damn!!! Me, Nermang Theodore, getting shipped off to the North?!”
Nermang kicked the wall with bloodshot eyes.
Crash!
“Goddamn iron ore... Who the hell could've known... that the mana crystal era would hit like this...”
Unable to contain his rage, Nermang swept the stack of documents off the desk.
Amid the fluttering papers, the iron ore mine deed pitifully fluttered to the floor.
Beyond the 10,000 gold the family head Alfonso had given him, Nermang had poured every last bit of his own fortune into buying that iron ore mine.
A traditional safe investment.
Iron had steady demand even without wars.
But the blue waste ore boom had upended everything.
Iron ore prices were plummeting by the day.
“Aaaargh! Iron ore worth shit... Damn it all!”
Knock knock.
As Nermang wailed, the door cracked open.
“Elder Brother...”
Eric stepped inside, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief.
“You're leaving, aren't you? Have you packed everything?”
Nermang scowled fiercely.
The last person he wanted to see in the world had just walked in on his own two feet.
“Hah... Here to gloat? Get lost. I feel sick to my stomach just looking at your smug face.”
But Eric pressed on undeterred.
“Would I? We're brothers, after all. Doesn't it break your heart? The North is freezing... and they say the beasts there are ferocious.”
Eric's gaze swept over the iron ore documents scattered on the floor.
Then he let out a deep, concerned sigh.
“Plus, I hear the Northern Frontline commander takes bribes... er, 'shows of sincerity.' Without them, supplies don't come through properly. Got enough funds? I heard all your assets are tied up in that iron ore mine...”
Nermang's shoulders twitched.
He'd hit the nail on the head.
He had zero cash on hand.
If he headed North like this, he'd freeze or starve for real.
But spilling that to his half-baked little brother? His fragile pride wouldn't allow it.
“Don't worry about it! The mine... it'll bounce back eventually! Just gotta hold on!”
“When? Ten years from now?”
“Wh-what...?”
“Be honest. It's the mana crystal era now. Blue waste ore is scarce for the moment, but it'll spread more over time... Iron demand will only drop further. You won't see prices rise until you're a grandpa up there on the Frontline.”
Facts hitting like punches.
Nermang's pupils shook like there was an earthquake.
Eric had zeroed in on the truth Nermang already knew and driven the final nail in.
“That's why I wanted to say...”
Eric stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“......?”
“I've made a killing with mana crystals this time. Way too much money. I can't even handle it all.”
“You little shit... Bragging now?”
“No. Thought I'd lighten your load, Elder Brother. I'll buy that headache of a mine off you.”
“What? You're buying this?”
“We're family. Can't stand seeing you suffer up North. I'll settle it clean with cash.”
Nermang's mental calculator whirred into overdrive.
'Th-this idiot!'
He inwardly cheered.
'Got rich quick on mana crystals and now he's blind. High on crystal hype, buying worthless iron ore? Thank you very much.'
Selling now for cash was a win.
Holding the mine just meant bleeding taxes on garbage.
Nermang cleared his throat with haughty airs.
“Ahem... If you insist, I'll sell. Can't refuse a little brother's earnest plea as the elder.”
“Thank you, Elder Brother. I'll pay a bit over market price. Family and all.”
“Fine. Let's draw up the contract now. Before you change your mind... Er, I'm busy.”
Scribble scribble.
The deal wrapped up in seconds.
40% of what Nermang had paid—less than half.
His hand trembled with joy as he stamped the seal.
Gazing down at the beaming Eric, Nermang thought:
'Sucker showed up.'
In front of the Theodore Ducal Family's massive main gate.
A carriage bound for the North waited.
Nermang boarded, clutching his bulging gold pouch.
His face was far too cheerful for someone departing.
'Heh heh... Stupid little bro. Paying top dollar for trash. Thanks! I'll live it up in the North and return in style!'
Nermang stuck his head out the window and looked down at Eric.
“Little bro! Don't overdo the business. Luck doesn't last forever. One bad move and poof! Uhahaha!”
Sincere mockery.
But Eric bowed politely, waving.
“Yes, I'll keep that in mind. Elder Brother, they say the North winds cut like knives—bundle up tight in your armor. Even brushing your collar can slice you.”
“Hmph. Nosy. I'm off!”
With the coachman's whip crack, the carriage lurched forward.
Eric watched the taillights fade into the darkness.
The smile on his lips turned ice-cold.
“Alfred.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“About that mine I just bought.”
“Yes... Frankly, I can't fathom your insight this time. Iron ore's in freefall. Even as charity for your brother, it...”
“Charity? Don't be ridiculous.”
Eric's eyebrow arched slightly.
“Send a messenger bird right now. No iron ore from the mine leaves the premises starting today.”
“Pardon? Not selling... but hoarding it?”
“Exactly. Clear every warehouse and fill 'em to the brim. Rent more if needed. Stack it high.”
“But Young Master, storage fees alone will...”
“Just do it. You'll see soon enough.”
Eric waved dismissively, annoyed, and headed inside.
“I'm beat. Time to wash up and crash.”
Alfred stared blankly at Eric's retreating back, lost in thought.
Mana crystal jackpot, then snapping up a crashing iron mine.
Defied all logic.
'What on earth is he thinking?'
But Alfred knew.
His master wasn't just some lazy young lord.
'There has to be... something I don't know.'
Night wind brushed Alfred's collar and passed.
Days later, one morning.
The Theodore estate was peacefully routine.
Birds chirped, gardeners trimmed busily.
Eric luxuriated in late sleep, buried in fluffy duck-down blankets.
'Yes... this is living. Made bank, chased off the noisy second bro. Now full vegetable mode for real...'
BOOM!
A brutal roar shattered the bedroom's serenity.
“Y-Young Master! Eric Young Master!!!”
Butler Alfred.
He'd been dramatic lately, but today's voice was next level.
Eric irritably furrowed his brows and sighed.
“Sigh... Alfred. I keep telling you to knock...”
“Knocking's not the issue! The window! Look outside now!!”
Forgetting decorum, Alfred yanked the curtains open.
“Ugh... too bright.”
Grumbling, Eric rolled out of bed and approached the window.
The pale-faced Alfred pointed.
Far, far in the distance, atop the Empire's northern border mountains.
Black-red smoke billowed up.
One, twooo, threeee...
Smoke multiplied instantly, shrouding the entire range.
Beacon fires.
Tooooooot!
Tooooooooot!!
Then, faint but clear trumpet blasts rode the wind.
“The Northern Frontline's breached! It's war! Young Master!”
Alfred shouted, ashen-faced.
War.
When all supplies dried up, iron for weapons pricier than gold.
Alfred finally understood.
Why Eric had scooped up the tanking iron mine dirt cheap days ago.
Why he'd ordered all mined ore stockpiled, no exports.
But... how?
How had a shut-in young lord predicted the Bukan Kingdom's northern invasion—unknown even to the Empire's intelligence—spot on?
“Y-Young Master... You knew about this too?”
Butler Alfred gazed at him with trembling eyes.
Eric, staring out the window impassively, didn't care.
'Right on schedule. Major Northern invasion.'
A faint smile curved Eric's lips.
“Just the beginning.”
“Young Master... How did you...”
“Alfred.”
“Yes! Your orders!”
“Breakfast. I'm hungry. Steak.”
“...Pardon?”
“Gonna spectate the war after eating. Oh, and...”
Eric smirked at the war-torn northern sky.
“Our second brother probably pissed his pants the second he crossed the border.”
Sure enough.
Nermang, who'd dumped the iron mine for peanuts and sauntered off.
The moment his foot hit the border, he was thrown naked before Bukan axes.
“Aaaah! S-save me!”
And the iron ore he'd dumped cheap?
Warming up nicely in Eric's warehouses, value inflating.
“Wake me when breakfast's ready.”
War or not.
Brother pissing himself on the Frontline or not.
The board was set perfectly. Money would roll in with every breath.
Eric dove back into bed with the world's happiest grin.