Back in Room 203, Lanen set aside his market purchases and switched on the reading lamp. The stolen letter crackled as he unfolded it beneath the amber glow.
"To my friend Clown:"
"Is the capital treating you well? I hear the mages there are embroiled in continental debates—bound to spawn radical ideas. Were it not for my weak constitution (those carriage rides!), I'd have joined you. News travels faster there than in our provincial Lorendan. Novelty must surround you daily."
"I've acquired a parrot—named it Thousand-Mouth Shell. Teaching it speech proves... challenging. Its 'good morning' emerges as 'good morfternoon.' Your entrusted plants thrive, though I've had to shield them with containment spells. The beast views foliage as a tasting menu."
"The new laboratory takes shape in the mountains. No tower for me—too extravagant. Those funds will buy books instead. Remember that Arcanist's maxim? 'Books are the ladder of human progress.' My shelves shall become a stairway."
"The lab's design intrigues me: a hidden space with an exit in the city's new sewer. Lightning runes mark the path (lest I get lost—again). Visit sometime, if you dare."
"What of this Arcanist movement? Suddenly every mage parrots their jargon. Their influence grows daily. Rumor says they plan universal平民教育... Consequences remain unseen, but the world will surely shift beneath our feet."
"Give Lavena my regards—and caution against swift parenthood. Traveling with infants is hellish."
"Lastly... if you encounter literate ladies in the capital, steer them my way via correspondence. Solitude wears thin after decades."
"Ward Skye"
The ink retained its clarity despite the parchment's age. To most, this would be a historical curiosity—meaningless antiquated chatter. But Lanen, cross-referencing another letter, saw coded significance in every line.
Perhaps after term starts... He filed the thought away.
Next Morning
"Radio! Marvel of Arcanist engineering! Revolutionary entertainment!" A street vendor's cry interrupted Abel's briefing.
"...Thus, polished attire and measured etiquette project authority," Abel continued, unperturbed. "Subtle psychological leverage—like morale in battle—often decides outcomes." He flagged down a mechanized carriage.
Lanen absorbed every word.
"Taxi!"
The enchanted vehicle hummed to the curb. After verifying fares, Abel ushered Lanen inside.
"...And premium transportation announces status," he concluded as they settled into plush seats.
"Seatbelts, please," the driver intoned.
"Even rear passengers?" Abel blinked but helped Lanen buckle in.
"New regulations—five silver fine otherwise. The police keep most of the penalty, so we're strict."
The carriage halted before a marble-columned edifice. A steward escorted them to a walnut-paneled conference room where cocoa steamed in porcelain cups.
"Welcome."
A broad-shouldered man entered—golden curls framing a face that balanced geniality and shrewdness.
"Mr. Charlie?" Both rose to shake hands.
The distributor settled opposite them, steepling his fingers. "Gentlemen of Frieden Company. Solus mentioned your... abacus. A continental distribution partnership interests me."
"Precisely," Abel responded. "Our patented calculation tool dominates local markets—shopkeepers, clerks, students, even high-budget mages. The demand exists continent-wide. Your due diligence surely confirmed this."
Charlie nodded. *"Hence this meeting. I propose taking 70% of gross profits post-manufacturing costs. Alternatively, a per-unit agency fee—one and a half silver, with me handling..."*
Pleasantries dispensed with, negotiations commenced.
Then Abel's opening gambit stunned Lanen—a 30% counteroffer. More astonishingly, Charlie engaged rather than refused. Two hours of tactical concessions later, the agency fee settled below half the initial figure, leaving both parties satisfied.
Lanen exhaled silently.
"...One final proposition." Charlie leaned forward. "I'd like to purchase 20% of Frieden Company. Ten gold coins."
Abel's gaze flicked to Lanen. A microscopic nod.
"Agreed," said Abel. Lanen mirrored the gesture.
Charlie's laugh boomed as he stood to clasp their hands.
"Pleasure doing business."