(Arin's POV)
"TOTAL VICTORY: HERETICS BEATEN BACK!"
The headline on the front page of the Capital Daily newspaper was printed in bold black ink, screaming at anyone who saw it. Below it, an artistic sketch depicted Royal Knights standing gallantly atop a pile of black-robed corpses, with an overly dramatized sunrise background.
A soft snort escaped my nose. I folded the newspaper carelessly and tossed it onto the low table in the Headmistress's office waiting room.
"Neat propaganda," I muttered cynically.
Not a single word in that article mentioned the overcrowded hospitals, the soldiers whose lungs rotted from rust, or how the victory was actually bought with logistical panic and sheer luck. To the common people, the Lion Kingdom had just won a heroic battle. To us on the ground, we knew we only survived because of rotten mushrooms.
However, my eyes caught a small column in the bottom corner of the second page.
"Rumors of 'Golden Liquid' from the Rhyms Family saving thousands of lives on the front lines. Is this a new era of medicine?"
The corner of my lips lifted slightly. At least that part was true. And more importantly, that part was profitable.
"Arin," called Elena softly, her voice trembling slightly.
I turned. Elena sat on the opposite sofa, wearing a perfectly neat academy uniform, yet her eyes couldn't hide her anxiety. Her fingers squeezed her uniform skirt.
Beside her, Karim sat stiffly upright like a wax statue afraid of melting under sunlight. Meanwhile, Edna was busy tidying the collar of her crumpled lab coat every five seconds, as if a neat collar would save her life.
Only Ghislain seemed indifferent to this tense atmosphere. The old mage was squatting in the corner of the room, talking to himself with a potted Ficus plant.
"You lack nitrogen, Kid," whispered Ghislain to the plant. "Your leaves are yellow. I'll give you goblin blood later, okay?"
I ignored Ghislain and returned my focus to Elena.
"Are you sure about this share distribution?" whispered Elena, glancing fearfully at the large mahogany door in front of us. "My father... he is not someone easily compromised when it comes to money. He could eat you alive if you say the wrong thing."
"Calm down, Miss Partner," I answered casually, leaning back against the soft sofa. Although my heart was actually beating a little faster than usual, I didn't show it. "We have the goods he needs. In negotiations, whoever holds the need holds the control. Your father needs our medicine."
Click.
The sound of the door lock rang loud. The double doors opened slowly. Alfin, Selena's trusted Elf servant, appeared and bowed respectfully with a flat, expressionless face.
"Please enter. The Duke is waiting."
Hearing the words "The Duke," Karim's face turned pale instantly. He swallowed hard, as if a thorny fur ball were stuck in his throat. Edna took a deep breath, trying to calm her tense nerves.
"Let's go," I invited, standing up first.
We stepped inside.
The Headmistress's office, usually feeling spacious and authoritative, today felt cramped and oppressive. Not because of the number of people, but because of the unnaturally heavy air pressure. There was an aura of dominance filling every inch of the room.
Behind the large desk, Selena Rhyms sat with a tired yet still elegant face. However, our attention was not on her.
Our attention was drawn to the figure sitting on the main guest sofa, backing the large window displaying the Academy view.
A middle-aged man with silver hair combed neatly back. He wore a formal black suit with pure gold buttons. In his hand, an expensive cigar puffed white smoke smelling of cinnamon and harsh tobacco.
Duke Edwin Rhyms. The Lion of the North. The economic ruler of the Lion Kingdom.
He did not turn when we entered. He was reading a pile of order letters mounting on the coffee table in front of him.
"Sit," he ordered without looking. His voice was low, heavy, and vibrated in the chest.
Karim and Edna sat immediately with jerky movements due to tension. They looked down, not daring to look directly at the Duke. I sat next to Elena, trying to look as calm as possible even though my palms were sweating.
Meanwhile, Ghislain...
He walked with a limp past the sofa, then without permission pulled an antique wooden chair from the corner of the room. He dragged it just like that across the marble floor.
SCREEECH.
The ear-splitting squeak echoed in the silent room. Everyone grimaced in pain.
Edwin stopped the movement of his hand holding the cigar.
Ghislain sat on the chair casually, then lifted his feet dirty with forest mud onto the coffee table. Right next to the Duke's important documents. He then picked his nose casually.
"This room is too clean," commented Ghislain flatly while flicking his booger. "Smells like hypocrisy and expensive wax. Disgusting."
Karim held his breath, his eyes bulging in horror. He was probably imagining all our heads rolling on the floor in the next five seconds due to that insolence.
Slowly, Duke Edwin put down his documents. He turned, staring at Ghislain with a gaze that could freeze volcanic lava.
"Ghislain Bassil," greeted Edwin coldly. "It has been a long time. I am surprised you haven't died from your own experiments yet. Or killed by your research subjects."
"And I am surprised you haven't died choking on your own ego, Kid Edwin," replied Ghislain casually. "You look more and more like your old-fashioned mother."
The tension in the room spiked to a critical point. Elena squeezed my hand under the table out of fear. Selena only massaged her temples, appearing to have given up before negotiations began.
"Enough," cut Selena sharply, hitting the table lightly. "We are here for business, not an old enemies' reunion. Edwin, speak. Do not waste our time."
Edwin extinguished his cigar in the crystal ashtray with strong emphasis. He straightened his body, his dominance aura focusing back on the main goal. The Duke pointed to the pile of papers on the table.
"In the last three days, since Selena distributed that 'cloudy water' of yours to military barracks and refugee camps, the Rhyms trading office has been flooded with letters," began Edwin, his voice changing to a sharp and calculative business tone.
"Demand spiked five hundred percent. Not just from the Lion Kingdom military. Merchants from neighboring Kingdoms, the Southern Trade Alliance, even the Holy Temple... they all want stock. They call it 'Liquid Life'."
Edwin looked at me straight. His gaze demanded.
"The market is formed, Arin. Now the problem is supply. Your stock of four thousand bottles ran out this morning. Now we need the goods. How much can you provide next week?"
"We are working on it, Lord Duke," I answered calmly, holding his gaze. "A quarter of the Northern Sector Forest has been fully converted into a factory. The raw material problem of my blood has been solved with the grafting method. Scalability is no longer a biological issue."
"Then, where is the problem?" asked Edwin demanding. "Why does the report say production is stalled?"
"The problem is with the experts," I pointed to Ghislain with my thumb. "Modifying Pitcher Plants into sterile incubators is not the work of an ordinary gardener. It requires magical microsurgery, cellular manipulation, and deep understanding of monster mana circuits. In the entire Lion Kingdom... no, maybe in the entire continent, only one person can do it with a hundred percent success rate."
All eyes turned to the crazy old man examining his black toenails.
Edwin's face hardened. He clearly disliked the fact that his trillion-gold business depended on a person he hated to death.
"We can train others," said Edwin coldly. "I have the best botanical mage team. Give the recipe and method, we will buy it outright. Then this madman can leave my property."
"Kee hee hee!" Ghislain laughed shrilly, a laugh that made hair stand on end.
He lowered his feet, then leaned forward, staring crazily at Edwin with both his real eyes and the tentacle eye on his back protruding from his robe.
"You think this is a cake recipe, Noble Brat?" sneered Ghislain. "This is art! You can give the same brush and paint to a monkey, but he won't be able to paint the Mona Lisa! Your academy-graduated mages are too rigid! They are afraid of violating 'natural ethics'. They do not have the guts to rape biological laws like I do! They will fail, and your plants will rot!"
"Watch your mouth," growled Karim reflexively, though his voice trembled.
"He is right, Father," interrupted Elena, daring to defend. "I saw the process. Ghislain... he does something not taught in any book. Without him, the plant will die or eat its own mushrooms."
Edwin fell silent. His jaw hardened. He was a rational businessman above all else and knew when he was cornered and had no choice.
"Fine," hissed Edwin unwillingly. "What do you want, Bassil? Money? Gold? Women? Name your price."
"Trash," spat Ghislain onto the expensive carpet floor. "I do not need your valuable paper."
Ghislain stood up, walking with a limp approaching Edwin's desk. He placed his skinny hands on the expensive wooden desk, staring into Edwin's eyes from close range.
"I want my name back."
The room was silent.
"Twenty years ago, the Magic Association revoked my title. The Academy burned my journals. You threw me away like a mad dog just because I saw the truth you feared," Ghislain's voice lowered, emotional tremors clearly heard there. "I want to publish journals again. I want the world to know that Biomimicry is not heresy, but the future! I want full access to research facilities, and I want every bottle of medicine coming out of that factory to list my name on the patent!"
Edwin looked at him with disgust. "You are a criminal, Ghislain. You once performed experiments on humans. I cannot give you official status. It would destroy the reputation of the Academy and the Rhyms Family. I cannot sell medicine made by a criminal."
"Then no medicine," Ghislain shrugged casually, turning to leave. "Good luck with the next plague. I heard the bacteria mutates fast."
"Wait!" exclaimed Selena.
Selena stood up, mediating between the two stubborn men. She looked at Edwin, then Ghislain.
"There is a middle ground," said Selena calmly. "We cannot appoint you as an official Professor, Ghislain. The Council will not agree. But..."
Selena smiled thinly, her signature political smile.
"We can appoint you as an 'External Technical Consultant' under strict supervision. You will work in Rhyms facilities, not the Academy. You may publish research journals, but they must go through peer-review from Edna and Karim, and be published under the banner of 'Rhyms Special Research Team'."
Selena stared at Ghislain sharply.
"You get your funds, you get your recognition in the scientific community, but your name is legally clean because it is sheltered under the Rhyms umbrella. In exchange, you must serve as the Factory Technical Head for at least one year. And you are forbidden from touching human subjects without permission."
Ghislain fell silent. He seemed to be weighing it. His tentacle eye blinked fast.
"That journal... will list my name as the lead author?" asked Ghislain suspiciously.
"Co-Lead Author with Arin," corrected Selena.
Ghislain turned to me. I nodded while smiling reassuringly. "I do not mind sharing the front cover, Professor."
"Fine," grumbled Ghislain. "At least better than rotting in a sewer."
Edwin sighed roughly, as if he had just swallowed a bitter pill. "Agreed. Now, let's talk share distribution."
The atmosphere became tense again. This was the moment determining the fate of our wallets. The moment I waited for most.
Edwin took a magic contract sheet prepared on the table.
"The Rhyms Family provides initial capital, vast forest land in the northern territory, distribution channels throughout the continent, political protection from the Church and Alchemists, and mass labor. The biggest risk is on us."
He looked at us one by one with a predatory gaze.
"The Rhyms Family takes ninety percent ownership share."
"WHAT?!" shrieked Edna and Karim simultaneously. They almost jumped from their chairs in shock.
"Ninety?!" protested Edna, forgetting her fear momentarily due to money. "That is robbery! We worked hard in the mud! We risked our lives in the forest!"
"You worked hard?" Edwin looked at Edna with a gaze that shrank the doctor's guts back to the size of a pea. "Who will pay bribes to customs officials so this medicine can cross borders? Who will hire mercenaries to guard convoys from bandits? Who will face lawsuits from the Alchemist Guild who will lose their market? Who else if not Us."
Edwin leaned forward.
"Without Rhyms, you are just a bunch of smart people who will be killed by competitors in a week. The remaining ten percent is my generosity."
I placed a hand on Edna's arm, holding her back from protesting again.
"That is fair," I said calmly.
Edna looked at me in disbelief. "Arin?! Are you crazy?"
"Calculate it, Doc," I whispered softly. "Ten percent of a market potential worth millions of gold... that is an amount you won't be able to spend in your lifetime. We need their protection more than they need us. Without Edwin, we are just corpses holding a medicine recipe."
I turned to Edwin.
"How is that ten percent divided, Lord Duke?"
"Arin, as the inventor and provider of the main 'catalyst' aka blood, you get five percent," decided Edwin.
Five percent. Of a continental medicine monopoly. That... was a crazy amount of money. I restrained myself from grinning widely like a fool. Early retirement was in sight.
"Ghislain, as Technical Head, three percent."
Ghislain just picked his ear, indifferent to money. "As long as it's enough to buy experimental materials and fresh organs, I do not care."
"Edna, as Medical and Sterilization Supervisor, one percent."
"One percent..." Edna muttered weakly, but then her eyes sparkled as she did quick math in her head. One percent of, say, millions of annual profit gold... that was a hundred thousand gold. Her doctor salary a year was only five hundred gold.
"I ACCEPT!" exclaimed Edna quickly before the Duke changed his mind. "Very fair!"
"And Karim..." Edwin looked at his former subordinate. "As Head of Operational Security and... porter, I heard? One percent."
Karim nodded stiffly, his face flushed red. "Thank you, Your Excellency. That... is very generous."
The contract was presented. The quill dipped in ink.
One by one, we signed the document that would change our lives forever. From a bunch of weirdos in the forest, to business partners of one of the strongest families in the world.
Edwin leaned back satisfied. He lit a new cigar, puffing smoke scented with cinnamon.
"Good. Production in the Rhyms Northern Forest will start next week. I will send a convoy to move the mother plant and your equipment. Prepare to be busy."
Edwin stood up, straightening his suit. His usually stiff face now looked slightly more relaxed after securing his family's future asset.
"Karim, make sure you hire first-class mercenaries from the Black Sun Guild to guard that convoy," ordered Edwin while walking toward the door.
Karim frowned in confusion. "Mercenaries, Lord Duke? Can't we ask for an escort from the Royal Army? This is a national strategic project."
Edwin snorted roughly, his face sour again.
"Royal Army? Don't hope for it," sneered Edwin. "That Old Fogey Douglas pulled the entire capital garrison to the East District. He is paranoid that the Sect might attack again. As a result, the rest of this city is completely empty. Even the West gate guards and storage warehouses were pulled to the East to help evacuation and cleanup."
Edwin shook his head. "Stupid strategy. He leaves the entire capital naked just to chase shadows in the East."
Edwin's steps stopped.
Not because he wanted to stop, but because Elena suddenly stood up with the sound of a chair screeching loudly.
"Wait, Father," Elena's voice sounded sharp, cutting off her father's complaint.
Everyone turned. Elena's face was deathly pale. She did not look at her father, but stared at the large map of the capital mounted on Selena's office wall.
"Father said... West Gate and storage warehouses are empty?" asked Elena, her voice trembling.
"Yes. Why?" asked Edwin confusedly.
Elena walked quickly toward the map. Her finger traced the border line of the East District (where the attack occurred) and the West District.
"Arin," called Elena without turning. "What did General Douglas say in the medical tent yesterday? About the attack in the East?"
I immediately caught her meaning. My brain spun fast connecting the dots.
"'The attack was too neat and too noisy. They retreated too quickly as if not intending to seize territory'," I quoted, feeling cold creep up my back.
Elena turned to look at her father, her eyes wide with horror.
"Father, Grandmother... this is not about territory. This is about troop positioning."
Elena pointed at the map with a trembling hand.
"The Sect attacked the East District with full force. They spread the plague there so we panicked. They made a huge commotion. The goal was only one: To lure General Douglas to pull all military strength to the East."
"And if all guards are in the East..." I continued, finishing the sentence of horror. "...then the West District has no one guarding it."
Edwin's face turned dark instantly.
"West District..." whispered Selena, her eyes widening. "There lie the Royal Ancestral Tombs and the Forbidden Artifact Storage Warehouse."
A gripping silence fell on the room. Our business victory suddenly felt hollow. We just realized that while we were busy counting money and treating sick people in the East, the enemy might have just walked casually into the unlocked back door in the West.
"Diversion," growled Edwin, his voice low and dangerous.
"They did not lose," whispered Elena. "They got what they wanted while we all looked the other way."
A bad premonition enveloped the room like thick fog. We just won money, but it felt like... we just lost in a much bigger game.
"Check the Ancient Artifact Warehouse in the West Sector," ordered Edwin suddenly to his shadow, his voice exploding in panic. "And check the Ancestral Tombs. Now! Contact Douglas! Call him back!"
The shadow in the corner of the room moved and disappeared.
Outside the window, the clear night sky was suddenly covered by dark clouds moving fast from the west. The storm had not passed. It was only holding its breath.