The Wealthy Chain-Smoking Boss (1)
They stood in front of the inn's carriage parking lot, clutching a thick bundle of documents. They alternated between glancing at the papers and the lot, chatting among themselves. One shook the chain-link fence, while another pointed around with his finger.
Those guys look exactly like land speculators scouting properties...
But why are they eyeing someone else's land? If you want to buy property, shouldn't you start by finding the owner?
I was about to walk over when they suddenly climbed into their carriage and sped past me toward the city intersection.
"What the hell were those guys?"
Ukun coughed in the dust cloud kicked up by the carriage and asked. I shook my head.
"No idea. Real estate agents, maybe."
"Then why were they scoping our land? You put it up for sale or something?"
"Nah? And why 'our' land? It's my land."
"Ahem. Right you are."
Ukun cleared his throat awkwardly and started nitpicking the signboard again—how it was crooked, poorly made, whatever.
With Kosa joining the inn, I finally felt like we'd reached a level of completion. Sure, we'd been more than competitive before, but there had always been a gap in the auditory department.
Now, with Kosa, everything was perfect. Imagine stepping into the inn on a chilly night, greeted by the warmth of the hearth and the sound of song mingling in the air—what could be more comforting? Sipping your drink quietly to the sweet lute melodies, heartfelt vocals, and epic tales that stir the soul... that's the unique charm of an inn.
And Kosa's voice? A solid ten out of ten.
A mysterious blind woman with long silver hair cascading down her back, her eyes covered by an eyepatch etched with intricate, arcane patterns. She recounts the heroes' deeds and the histories of lost kingdoms in that low, serene tone. This isn't some cheap street performer's ditty you hear anywhere for a few coppers. No, this is the luxurious indulgence unique to our inn.
When Kosa sang in the hall, emotional Della would always sniffle, while Marim and Idi sat side by side at the bar, propping their chins and grinning ear to ear. Francois looked like elegant nobility attending the opera, and Pelle pretended to be indifferent even as her gaze drifted toward Kosa. That dwarf Ukun? He just blended into the crowd, nursing his beer.
Outside of singing hours, Kosa read fortunes for the guests in one of the upstairs rooms. Judging by the bright expressions on their faces as they left, she probably spiced things up a bit. When I asked her about it, she nodded with a faint smile.
"Unless there's some immediate calamity to dodge, I tend to interpret things on the brighter side."
"You've got a real merchant's instinct."
"That's why I never quite starved."
I couldn't help but burst out laughing at that.
Today was the day Hildeva had mentioned—the city hall staff moving to the old city hall. I left the inn in the employees' hands and crossed through the city.
Temperatures had plummeted after last week's heavy rains, and now the wind bit cold. The trees blazed with autumn colors, showering fallen leaves with every gust. Townsfolk were busy sweeping piles from in front of their homes and shops.
I crunched through the drifting leaves and arrived at city hall. The open lot in front of the hall and public warehouse was cluttered with office furniture. All the officials, plus volunteers from the citizenry, were sweating buckets in the chill as they hauled pieces around. Wagons pulled by horses and oxen lined the street out front, waiting their turn to load up.
"Ah, Bertrand!"
In the midst of the chaos, Hildeva spotted me and flashed that signature charming smile. Her eye-crinkling grin had this irresistible power, no matter how many times I saw it.
"Perfect timing. I was wondering when you'd show."
"Where do you want me to start?"
"We've handled the light stuff. Heavy furniture's what's left..."
Just then, several men grunted and strained to maneuver a massive bookshelf out the door. They finally set it down, straightened up, wiped sweat, and panted heavily.
"As you can see, these desk-jockeys aren't cutting it."
"I'll take care of it."
I strode over and hoisted the bookshelf effortlessly. The officials gaped, wordlessly clearing a path.
"Right here! Citizen services supplies!"
I'd thought the lot was a jumble, but now I saw the subtle divisions between piles—sorted by department. Each had its own assigned wagon to keep things from mixing, with loading order preset.
"I'll handle the big bulky stuff solo. You all sort the papers and odds and ends."
"You heard him! Let's wrap this before noon!"
Hildeva clapped sharply, rallying everyone. With me pitching in, the hall emptied in no time. I loaded each department's gear onto their wagons. Two round trips later, everything was safely at the old city hall.
The building was a sprawling three-story structure, nearly three times city hall's size. Back when Rosens was booming, it had been packed tight—not just city functions, but guard outposts and other agencies too. More like a unified city administration hub.
Word was, the post office and stables would move in by week's end. The empty interior was surprisingly clean—Hildeva had called in cleaners a few days prior. Long hallways flanked by doors already bore neat nameplates identifying each office.
And that was...
"Prep work. Minimizes move-in time."
Hildeva's eyes curved into crescents as she grinned. Guess I had a thing for smart women—my crotch twitched vulgarly at her sharp efficiency.
We unloaded the first wagon straight into the first office. I'd set furniture precisely, and staff handled the small stuff. Hildeva roamed with a big sheet of paper and aides, overseeing against the plan.
By the time we filled the second, third, fourth... fifth rooms, the first was already tidy. Finished departments didn't help others—they broke for lunch. Hildeva explained:
"If everyone's helping everyone, no one finishes their own. Strict separation's key."
Finally, wrapping the mayor's office on the third floor, over half the staff had already left for lunch.
"Great work, Administrator. Time for your meal."
Her aides urged, but Hildeva shook her head.
"You go first. I've got plans with Bertrand. Gotta treat our helper right."
The aides thanked me profusely and headed downstairs.
"Treat me to lunch, huh? What's on the menu?"
I turned to find Hildeva perched on her desk, that seductive smile playing as she hooked one leg up onto it. Her skirt rode up, revealing the white panties peeking from her black stockings.
"Something delicious."
"You've had it before."
"And it was good."
I approached, removed her glasses, and let down her pinned-up hair. Suddenly, she transformed into an untouchable beauty, smiling invitingly.
"Eat me, Bertrand."
A good while later, chatter from staff returning from lunch filtered through the window. Hildeva, still wrapped around me, murmured:
"I'm thirsty."
"You've lost a lot of fluids."
Stroking her sweat-slick back made her shiver.
"Aides'll be up soon."
She slipped off me, hastily dressing. She wiped herself with her panties and tossed them in the trash, then pulled stockings over bare skin and slipped her skirt on. Watching that sparked a sudden thought.
She'd know for sure.
"Earlier, some guys got out of a carriage by the inn and eyed the land. Any idea who?"
"Who?"
"Middle-aged suits, looked kinda old."
"Oh, they made it that far?"