Fur Turns to Gold
Mink fur. Fur is money. And the rarer ones, like luxury sable mink pelts, fetch a fortune. They're expensive, sure, but that's partly because luxuries carry that inherent snobbery—like, "Doesn't your house have anything like this?" The biggest reason, though, is simple.
"Sable mink fur is basically the medieval version of Gore-Tex."
Back in the days of the Russian Tsardom, it was the golden child that accounted for 10% of Russia's budget during the Siberian expansion. Unlike other luxuries, it had real practicality too. Mink fur is exceptionally fine and dense compared to other beasts', making it warm yet lightweight. The natural oils in the hairs repel snow and rain—you just brush it off—and it's highly resistant to moisture, so it doesn't clump or mat like lesser furs. Hell, the fur cloak I'm wearing right now is sable mink. Case closed. Plus, while most animal pelts stiffen if not stroked with the grain, mink is silky smooth, with a luxurious hand-feel like velvet. As a status symbol, it was perfection incarnate—the endgame of furs, towering over the rest like fire over magma.
"No startup costs either. Perfect."
Hunt, skin, sell. What expenses could there even be? This was creation economics, a straight-up money-duplication glitch. But before firing up this glitch, even I—who crosses bridges only after tapping them—planned to verify it first.
For advice on this sort of thing, I headed straight to the most trustworthy source: Oto Geltner. As far as I knew, no one was more expert on money than him, and he welcomed me warmly.
"Haha, Your Grace. What brings you here? It's rare for you to seek me out first. Do you have a command for me?"
"Geltner, I've come with a question for you. Do you have a moment?"
"Of course, of course. What is it? I'll answer with all sincerity, to the best of my knowledge."
"I'm planning to export fur—especially high-end sable mink—to the Imperial Capital and other parts of the empire. What are your thoughts on the business potential?"
"Hmm……"
No sooner had money entered the conversation than Geltner's expression turned deadly serious. He stroked his mustache, lost in thought, mentally tallying figures like an abacus master. After a long pause, he spoke.
"Including transport costs, we'd need to price it high to turn a profit. No—probably even higher."
"It's a luxury good at heart. We'll sell only to those who'll pay top ducats without blinking."
"Even in a vast empire, we can't flood the market all at once if we're exporting steadily. And if we expand sales channels beyond the empire to other countries, all the better."
"Likelihood of solid profits?"
"Hard to say for certain."
Geltner shook his head, hedging.
"I'd need to inspect the quality of Berg furs first before committing. That said, a high-end strategy focusing solely on top-grade pelts sounds viable."
"You can open those channels through your guild?"
"Naturally. And since our bond with Your Grace runs deeper than mere business—haha—we'll take a modest cut."
"In that case, we'll extend corresponding courtesies your way."
"Heh heh, much appreciated."
Geltner grinned. In this era, direct exports without a merchant guild were a pipe dream. Partnering with an established merchant noble like Geltner was the simplest, most efficient choice. I gave his shoulder a couple encouraging pats, and he flashed a sly, predatory smile. This guy always gets that look when money's on the table.
"Once we start serious hunting, I'll bring samples. You can appraise the quality, right?"
"I was handling ledgers at twelve, Your Grace. Nothing I haven't dealt with since."
"That early for heir training?"
"Yes. Quite the ordeal it was. Reminds me of the first task my late father gave me."
"Task?"
"'Figure out how to siphon funds without leaving a trace in the books.' He said if I needed pocket money, take it from the guild—as long as I didn't get caught."
"……?"
"I was sloppy at first and took plenty of beatings, but that's how I learned the hard way. Now I spot ledger tricks from a mile away. Haha."
What the hell. Mid-level ninja exam?
"Anyway, I'll be waiting for those samples. Swiftly, accurately—honesty is the Geltner way and a merchant's true virtue, after all."
Geltner bowed with a straight face—clearly not believing his own words—then vanished back to work. I felt like I'd glimpsed something I shouldn't have…… Shaking my head, I decided next to consult Helena Iliad. Cross-verification was essential.
Until this northern trip, Helena had no ties to merchant guilds, but she was still Duke Iliad's daughter—a top-tier imperial lady. Young noblewomen were more fashion-sensitive than businessmen, so her input wouldn't hurt.
Her location was obvious. The massive shipments from the capital needed constant oversight, and there she was, diligently supervising unasked-for.
Not exactly lady's work, but if she insisted……
"Hey! I said stack the powder kegs crosswise in the warehouse! You gonna take responsibility if moisture ruins them? Can you pay for it?"
"S-sorry, milady!"
Heading to the new warehouse, sure enough, her sharp voice rang out, eyes blazing. I approached from behind, making sure she heard my footsteps. She turned, spotted me, and—
"Oh, Your Grace."
"Helena."
"What brings you? Something you need from me?"
Her tone softened instantly to honeyed warmth, her eyes crinkling in a radiant smile.
"I'd like a moment of your time. If that's alright?"
"Not a moment—a whole day if you want."
A far cry from her barking at the slacking laborers.
"……Then follow me."
"Gladly."
Couldn't chat amid the work site, so we moved to a temporary spot. Mindful of her waddling gait in the heavy clothes, I slowed my pace.
"So, what did you want to discuss?"
Her cheeks flushed red from the unrelenting northern chill—she still wasn't used to it.
"Straight to the point. To bolster arms and coffers, I'm planning fur sales via Geltner's guild—not just to the capital, but empire-wide."
"Fur? Animal hides? I saw plenty of beasts on the way here."
"If you noticed, that speeds things up. Not rare at all—you must've spotted mink. That's our mainstay pelt."
"Hmm. Mink fur, mink fur."
"You know it?"
"Of course."
Helena replied confidently, every bit the capital miss who'd indulged every whim until recently—clearly an expert in such matters.
"Geltner's handling distribution, but separate from its luxury status, I'm wondering if it'll actually sell. Your thoughts?"
"Mink's too pricey for commoners—a true luxury. Only nobles would buy."
"That's the angle. Will nobles open their purses for expensive mink? I figured top quality would sell itself."
At least, I saw no reason it wouldn't. In my history studies, Russian sable was inescapable— Cossack raids spanning thousands of li, Siberian conquests. Key there was the yasak, the fur tribute from natives. Under the Tsar's iron grip, Russia monopolized distribution, raking in 350,000 to 600,000 rubles annually.
Convert to ducats here, average it out…… about 200,000 a year.
A king's ransom. A single prime sable went for a skilled artisan's 1-2 years' pay—unaffordable for anyone but nobles. No wonder Russia used fur profits to fund southern wars: "Hey, with this we can afford a crusade. Stand at attention, Ottoman—you're taking the hit."
We'd head north instead of south, but still. Helena pondered, then a sly smile curved her lips.
"Mink fur, huh. Your Grace worries if nobles will snap up such pricey luxuries?"
"Exactly. As Duke Iliad's daughter, what's your take?"
"No need to fret. I've got just the plan. Hehe."
Grunting, she fished a fan from her thick garments and snapped it open. Why carry a fan here of all places? But the smile behind it deepened.
"Easy fix. First, give me a good bunch of mink pelts? Enough for a few coats. Can't make one with just one or two."
"Not a problem. But for what?"
"What else?"
She snickered.
"Those brainless girls who ape my every move—they'll badger their daddies till they buy."
"……Make noble ladies unable to resist?"
"Your Grace ran that ad in the capital papers during the Founding Festival, right?"
Shackleton's idea—bold polar expedition recruitment. It netted us fresh assai recruits, sweating it out in the training yard even now.
"We did. Thinking of advertising too?"
"Not quite. Noble ladies have their own ways. Like how you spread elang in the capital—I'll make it the trend."
She declared with utter confidence.
"Mark my words: soon, husbands and fathers hounded by wives and daughters will come begging, ducats in hand."
"Ho."
If so, perfect. Scarcity breeds hype and higher prices. Tease limited stock amid the frenzy, have Geltner fan the flames without letting it die……
"……If it plays out as you say, no worries on the selling end."
"It'll cost a bit upfront for the 'ads,' but leave this to me, Your Grace?"
"You're on."
"Just words?"
Helena grinned mischievously. Déjà vu? A faint unease prickled as I tilted my head.
"If it works, one favor's fair."
"I was kidding…… Wait, really?"
A phantom crash of shattering glass echoed. Helena pressed on hastily.
"No take-backs. Your Grace grants one favor."
"Within reason, if it's in my power—"
"Fur. Now. I'm starting right away."
That scorching gaze from the hallway? Now it burned right in my face. Why so intense? Scary much.