The Wealthy Smoker's Proposition (8)
I wondered if my ears were playing tricks on me, so I asked again. "Do what?"
"Work for my merchant group. I'll give you an executive position. You'll probably earn several times what you make at the inn."
"What the fuck kind of bullshit is this?"
I couldn't help but swear in sheer disbelief. It was even more absurd than when they'd offered to buy the inn for 100 million nics.
"...Mind telling me the reason? What's the logic behind this nonsense?"
Grancis tapped the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray and asked back.
"What's the basics of being a merchant, Bertrand Balder?"
"Buy low, sell high, pocket the profit?"
"Exactly."
"But what does that have to do with hiring me as an executive?"
"Everything. You boldly invested in a city everyone wrote off as hopeless."
Grancis set his cigarette in the ashtray and picked up his wine glass as he replied.
"And miraculously, the city revived, skyrocketing the value of your real estate investments."
That much was true. Compared to when I first bought the buildings, market prices had nearly quintupled.
"I hold your business savvy and eye for opportunity in the highest regard. High-risk, high-reward plays aren't for just anyone. I was watching this city too, but even I hesitated to dive in."
Hmm... Calling it business savvy and foresight was a bit awkward. I only did it because I had the power to wipe out those Golruks. Without that, I never would've set foot in Rosens.
Though, if I had zero sense for that stuff, would I have come here at all? Maybe I'd just be scraping by in some middling town, running a half-assed inn.
"Plus, your inn got established first, putting every other inn in the city at a disadvantage as latecomers."
"Not my fault. So?"
"And from what I hear, your inn offers all sorts of amazing services. Cool rooms even in summer, magically heated bathwater, cheap holy healing through temple ties... and a bunch of wild innovations no other inn could dream up, dominating the area. I've built merchant groups and dabbled in every business under the sun, but I've never seen a place as uniquely dominant as yours."
"Got a bit lucky."
Grancis set down his untouched wine glass and fixed me with a piercing stare. "You think it was just luck?"
He shook his head with a laugh at my words.
"No, Bertrand Balder. Luck alone doesn't lead to success. Only those who can seize luck when it comes calling make it big."
The ability to grab luck, huh... Something to keep in mind.
Grancis eyed my face with his droopy eyes and said, "Work under me, Bertrand Balder. Handle the inn business. Scout investments, manage operations."
"Appreciate the offer. But I'm barely handling my one inn as is."
"I'll assign you subordinates to help. Hell, I'll even buy your inn. Or you can keep running it on the side—no skin off my back."
I leaned back in my chair with a chuckle. "Not interested, but what if I join your group on the condition you pull out of Rosens?"
Grancis's smile vanished. "That's separate, Bertrand Balder. Rosens is the kingdom's most vital trade hub. Considering the future landscape, it's a must-have."
"Fine. We're done here."
I stood without a second thought.
"Rosens is my home. Can't ditch it for money."
"Bertrand Balder, you're mistaken about one thing. You standing up to protect this city changes nothing."
"Think what you want."
"No matter what tricks you pull, you can't stop us. Not without the capital's help, even..."
"Yeah, yeah, got it. Shut up and pay me for my time."
Irritated, I snapped, and Grancis laughed, gesturing to the carriage door with his cigarette. "You'll get it outside. And..."
As I reached for the door, he called to my back.
"Luck is something you seize when it arrives. Don't regret it later, Bertrand Balder."
"That goes for you too, merchant lord. Don't think you can hold onto luck forever."
"I'm at the merchant camp south of the city. Come find me if you change your mind."
"Don't hold your breath."
The man waiting outside silently handed over the money pouch. I snatched it and headed back to the inn, replaying the conversation in my head.
Grancis had zero intention of leaving Rosens. And he was dead certain the capital was in his pocket.
Of course he was. After all those massive bribes.
How far did his influence reach? But clearly, despite the background check, he knew jack shit about me. Even after I trashed the funeral and banquet at the palace.
The capital's intel guys were worthless shits, but credit where due—they were pros at cover-ups and scheming.
Entering the inn courtyard, I paused and glanced back at the carriage. I could smash it to bits right now and renegotiate...
But merchant groups were spread nationwide, HQs usually in the capital. Taking out the ones in Rosens wouldn't touch the rest. I'd have to flip the whole country upside down, turning it into a messy slog.
Normally, I'd have slammed that idiot who mouthed off earlier into the floor and started the party. But with Hildeva's request, I'd hold off a bit.
Couldn't ruin her chance to prove herself as administrator.
Still... Never dreamed the top dog himself would roll up just to recruit me.
If I joined, his group would tank from business flops and slumps inside a year. I'm shit at head games, after all.
After I visited, Grancis's merchant group ramped up the aggression. Their private guards strutted through the city nonstop, clashing with the watchmen.
Even when Della and I went downtown for bathhouse supplies, shit was hitting the fan.
At the edge of a rundown neighborhood before the main streets, merchant guards were facing off against the city watch.
A passerby explained: reconstruction drama.
"The building owners in that alley sold everything to the merchants. Without telling the tenants. Then the merchants suddenly demand everyone vacate. Tenants had no clue—total bolt from the blue."
Tenants rebelled en masse, guards showed to evict by force, watch responded.
The guards blocked the alley with ugly scowls; the watch stood in formation a few meters back.
Mounted Captain Lambert rode forward and bellowed, "Cease violence against the tenants! Noncompliance means legal action!"
"Hilarious! What law's that? One stopping owners from evicting for rebuilds?"
"No law says beating tenants with clubs is okay! The opposite! You're breaking the law!"
The guards flipped them off defiantly. "So squatters trampling property rights is fine?"
"Do whatever! We ain't budging till those beggar fucks clear out!"
Lambert wheeled his horse back to the rear with a grim face. The guards jeered.
"What can city watch trash do?"
"All bark, no bite—never seen otherwise."
But that was their experience elsewhere. Lambert and his crew weren't rotten bribe-takers.
From the rear, Lambert roared, "Company! Suppression formation!"
The watch shifted seamlessly into position: shieldbearers up front, burly baton-wielders tight behind.
The guards flinched and edged back.
"Advance!"
Shields marched forward in lockstep, no hesitation.
"Wha—fuck!"
Panicked guards raised clubs. As shields closed in, clubs swung—but all blocked, guards shoved back bit by bit.
Watchmen behind yelled wordlessly, glaring past shields. Shields parted left and right.
Watchmen lunged through, grabbing collars and yanking guards behind the wall. Batons rained down on the dragged-in guards.
Beaten senseless, they were bound and hauled rearward.
Shield "gates" opened everywhere, guards plucked like weeds.
Realizing it was hopeless, survivors bolted. Lambert commanded, "Charge!"
The watch roared, broke formation, and swarmed.
Illian Sergeant was in the mix, childish face lost in the rush as she charged with the rest.
Screams erupted from the alley.
"M-Master... let's go quick..."
Spooked Della tugged my sleeve. I'd been enjoying the show, but had to move.
We piled the bath supplies high on the cart and pulled up to the inn just as Della tapped my shoulder.
"Master. Check that guy."
She pointed north. Someone was sprinting our way from the north road.
I recognized him and turned to Della. "Della, get Ukun to help unload."
"Where you going, Master?"
I hopped off the cart and ran toward him.