The Wealthy Smoker's Bargain (3)
They were the same people who'd inspected our inn's carriage parking lot a few days back. So they finally showed up. I excused myself from Hardo and rose from the table, walking over to them.
"I'm the owner here."
One of them flashed a polite smile and introduced himself. "Good day. We're investment managers from the Grancis Trading Company."
The man pulled a small business card from inside his suit jacket and offered it with a bow. It was an exceedingly luxurious card, with "Grancis" embossed in gleaming gold leaf.
"Yes, I saw you checking out our parking lot last time."
"I see. Have you heard anything about the reason for our visit?"
"This way, first."
It looked like this would take a while, and we were standing right by the entrance, so I led them to an empty table.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
"No, that's fine. Haha."
They adjusted their glasses and chuckled politely.
"This is truly an impressive inn. It's as clean and comfortable as anything you'd find in the capital."
"We do our best to keep it scrubbed."
"What's that? A wild boar skull?"
One of them pointed at the troll trophy, and when I said it was a troll, they all gasped in surprise.
"I didn't hunt it myself—it was already here when I bought the place."
"I see. But..."
They shifted their gaze from the troll trophy to the Holy Sword hanging on the wall behind the bar, narrowing their eyes.
"That sword..."
Merchants through and through—they had a good eye for valuables.
"Even to me, a complete amateur with blades, it looks like a famed sword. It must have quite the history."
"It's mine. Used it back in the day, but no need for it now, so it's just decoration. Oh, and it's absolutely not for sale."
Disappointment flashed openly across their faces.
"Anyway... what's the reason for your visit?"
"Ah, yes."
The man cleared his throat and straightened up before speaking. "I'm not sure how much you've heard, but our Grancis Trading Company plans to establish a branch here in the city. To that end, we're acquiring buildings and land to house our branch staff and their families."
"So it's about lodging and such."
"Exactly. But we haven't found anywhere in the city that can accommodate dozens at once."
"So you want to buy this inn?"
"That's right."
What a joke. If you're housing staff and families, buy houses—not cram them into inn rooms. That was just an excuse. Their real aim was probably like Hildeva said: securing key facilities in the city.
I leaned back with a smile. "I've never considered selling the inn. But let's hear your offer."
"Including the bathhouse next door—how about three thousand gold coins?"
"Gasp...!"
Marim, who'd been eavesdropping from nearby with perked ears, sucked in a breath of shock. She met my eyes, grinned sheepishly, and slunk away.
I'd figured two thousand tops, but they were coming in hot. Still, with the dwarf craftsmanship and uzarburunt in the bathhouse bundled in, three thousand felt light.
I stayed silent, so the man spoke again. "Not to your liking? What about five thousand gold coins?"
That surprised even me. Normally, you'd expect three thousand five hundred next. Honestly, five thousand... I could sell the inn, live comfortably forever.
But if it was just about money, I wouldn't have started the inn in the first place. I was already drawing a top-tier pension—enough for life.
"Sorry, but five thousand feels a bit short."
He gave me an odd look. "Is that so? What figure did you have in mind?"
I thought for a moment, recalling Hildeva's words. "One hundred million gold coins. Someone's already offered that to buy the inn."
Nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine million nine hundred eighty thousand of it to buy me, she'd said. But the man, oblivious, looked baffled.
"Ah... one hundred million? Are you sure you even want to sell the inn, sir?"
"Frankly, no. I've invested a lot here, and running an inn was my dream."
The traders exchanged troubled glances. They probably never imagined I'd turn down five thousand for this rundown building and bathhouse.
As their whispering dragged on, I cleared my throat to wrap it up. "Sorry to waste your time coming all this way."
"No, not at all. We can't decide here anyway if that's your stance."
Vague ending. Sounded like they'd be back.
They stood, offering handshakes. "Truly a splendid inn. I'd love to stay here sometime."
"Anytime. We'll take good care of you."
I saw them out to the entrance. Their fancy carriage waited on the street out front. As it headed south, Marim sidled up beside me.
"Boss."
"What."
"Why not sell for five thousand gold? That's enough for a huge mansion in some quiet spot—you, me, all of us living large."
I stared down at the half-elf and called her name. "Marim."
"Yeah?"
"Why do you think I'd keep you around with my money?"
She looked up at me like I'd smacked her upside the head. "You wouldn't ditch us, would you?!"
"It's not about ditching. Why assume you'd live off my coin, you little squirt?"
I poked her forehead hard with my index finger. She got mad.
"Ugh, seriously! Always treating me like a kid!"
"You're barely up to my waist—what else would you be?"
She giggled. "True, your type's big tits. All our inn sisters have 'em. Saintess Celereja too. And that administrator lady."
"Coincidence. Get inside. It's cold."
I shoved her back and returned indoors. Hardo had just finished eating and was sipping his beer, waiting.
I'd hoped to chat more about the palace's moves, but he kept droning on about his military days instead of useful info.
"Where was I? Oh, right—he hands me a cigar and says since I chose this path, stick it out. I wasn't even drunk, but I suddenly wanted to see what human guts looked like..."
I wanted different talk, but he was so into it I couldn't interrupt—just listened to the end.
After the traders' visit, guards were unusually thick on the streets. They patrolled in pairs, enough to seem like a whole company.
Something happen? Spotting Illian Sergeant on patrol with a soldier, I waved.
"Sergeant!"
"Oh... boss?"
She spotted me and gave a shy smile.
"What's up? Why so many patrol squads all of a sudden?"
"Uh, well... Company commander's orders. Higher-ups mandated beefed-up city security."
Makes sense. Probably with legions shifting to noble lands around the capital, alert levels rose kingdom-wide. Never know when private troops might revolt.
"By the way, Sergeant—the long-term service exam's soon, right?"
"Yes. But... I heard they might not even hold selections this year."
"Why?"
She shook her head, looking deflated. "Not sure. Rumor says some legions are on high alert... Us grunts just follow orders."
Hmm... What did that have to do with long-term enlistments? Not totally illogical—armies get twitchy; one spark sets off the rest.
Heading back after parting with Illian Sergeant, a trader-looking carriage passed me. It paused but sped off when a patrol squad appeared.
They visited once more after. Offered eight thousand gold—I refused.
A few days later, Della came rushing up to me in a panic.
"Boss...! Come quick!"
She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the bathhouse backyard. Ukun was already there, arms crossed, staring at something.
It was the plot right next to the bathhouse.
"You're here. Take a look at that."
Ukun jabbed a thick finger at the vacant lot.