The dense forest loomed on either side as a carriage rolled steadily along the winding mountain road.
For Ethan, Tronne Town held little value. It wasn't worth staying any longer.
Other places, however, were different—like the royal capital of the Kingdom of Spades.
"Master, are we really going to the capital to do business without purchasing any goods first?"
Inside the carriage, Lucia wore a puzzled expression.
She now knew her master's identity—at least outwardly—as a merchant. This journey was meant for setting up a storefront in the capital.
But a merchant without any goods? That was something she had never seen before.
Ethan gave a faint smile.
"Merchandise isn't always something you need to own yourself. Ever heard of sourcing locally?"
His words left both Lucia and Pasha confused, but neither pressed further.
In these past few days, they had realized that their master was unlike those cruel men who treated servants as little more than tools. But even so, they knew better than to overstep and risk his displeasure.
"Carriage! Stop! Everyone inside, step down for inspection!"
As they neared the capital gates, the city guards halted the carriage.
Unbothered, Ethan handed a folded document to Lucia.
Drawing back the curtain, Lucia passed it up to the soldier.
"Sir, this is a letter of recommendation from Captain Charton of Tronne Town. Please allow us through."
"Captain Charton?"
At that name, the guard straightened immediately. Tronne might be on the border, but this was no time of peace. In wartime, those stationed at border towns were of high rank and carried real weight.
Someone endorsed by such a figure was not to be trifled with.
And so, without further delay, Ethan and his companions entered the capital.
They disembarked at a modest inn after leaving the carriage behind.
Ethan scanned the city streets, just as he had expected.
"A feast for nobles, famine for the poor…" he muttered.
Lucia blinked, tilting her head. "Master, what does that mean? What feast? What famine?"
Ethan chuckled.
"It means this: in noble households, there's so much wine and meat it rots in the cellars, while out on the streets, the poor freeze and starve."
The two women nodded quietly.
Even here, in the capital, life was far from prosperous. Violence and war had brought the people to their knees.
The once-bustling marketplace now had only a handful of shops still open. The rest of the streets were filled with the destitute, huddled in alleys, enduring hunger and cold, hoping for scraps of mercy.
Lucia's heart tightened. If not for Master… Pasha and I would've ended up like them.
But Ethan had no time to dwell on pity. He hadn't forgotten why he came here.
Economic collapse meant an endless supply of desperate labor. For him, that spelled opportunity.
From his coat, Ethan pulled out a small pouch and handed it to Lucia.
"Inside are ten thousand copper coins, one thousand silver, and ten gold. I don't care how you do it—within three days, recruit no fewer than three hundred people. At least two hundred of them must be women, and they must be presentable."
Lucia's eyes widened. "Three hundred…? Master, just what sort of business are you planning?"
Even the largest restaurants wouldn't need such a workforce.
Still, she clutched the pouch hesitantly. It was far too small to hold that much coin. Surely it couldn't be more than a hundred at most.
"Go ahead, open it."
Suspiciously, Lucia peeked inside—and froze.
"Empty?" she gasped, lifting her gaze to Ethan. Her look said everything: Are you mocking me, Master?
Ethan smirked.
"Stick your hand in."
She obeyed. A cool, metallic weight pressed against her palm. Pulling it out, her eyes widened further—gleaming between her fingers was a solid gold coin.
"This… this is real!"
"That," Ethan explained, "is a spatial pouch. It looks small, but inside, it has the space of a room. I made it myself using spatial magic."
Such things couldn't be bought. Only someone who had pushed spatial magic to its pinnacle could craft one. For anyone else, space magic was a pitiful, crippled art.
"Then, Master… I'll get to work."
Lucia bowed and left with Pasha at her side.
Ethan wasn't worried. With enough money, even devils could be persuaded to work. In a starving city like this, three hundred recruits would be nothing.
His challenge lay elsewhere.
At the gates of a refined estate, Ethan—now dressed in the garb of a wealthy merchant—approached with a confident stride.
"Good day. I am Uchiha Madara, here on urgent business with Viscount Bernstein. Please announce me."
The gatekeepers straightened immediately.
Business, after all, wasn't simply about finding a stall and putting up wares. Licenses, permits, and the blessing of the right nobles were all required—especially in wartime. Without those protections, one could be crushed under endless harassment.
And so, Ethan began his rounds.
One noble, two nobles, three…
In just a few days, "Merchant Uchiha Madara" had visited nearly two-thirds of the aristocracy in the capital, from lowly barons to powerful dukes. He made himself known, secured recognition for his coming ventures, and gathered support.
And the price?
Ethan chuckled to himself, fingering another small pouch.
"These spatial bags work wonders. No one can refuse such a gift."
Space magic was rare enough, but spatial storage items? As far as the world knew, only he could make them. Rarity bred value—and bribery had never been easier.
By the third evening, Lucia and Pasha returned to the inn, a crowd of weary but hopeful faces behind them.
"Master," Lucia reported, "we've recruited three hundred and one. Ninety men, two hundred and eleven women. All under thirty years old. It cost five gold, three hundred silver, and ten thousand copper. This is what remains."
She held out the pouch, but Ethan didn't take it. His eyes were fixed on the recruits.
Thin, ragged, malnourished—they looked like refugees.
But they were young. And youth meant potential.
With food and discipline, the men would grow strong, the women radiant.
And for the enterprise Ethan was about to launch… they would be more than enough.
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