The Fake Wife of the Strongest Husband Wants to Survive - Chapter 24

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 24
“But the people who need that Potion are only from the Eastern Region, aren’t they? People from other areas don’t need such a thing.”
“…….”
“Sourcing medicinal herbs and arranging their transport costs far more than you’d think, and it’s terribly inconvenient.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Since the Potion is only useful in the Eastern Region, we have to consider profitability as well.”
Pesha’s brow furrowed at his words.
Yes, she’d seen this coming.
A contract with the Uz Company was a double-edged sword.
As a large merchant house, sales would certainly become easier—but she’d have to contend with the greed of its master, Duke Clark.
Pesha sighed, resigned to hearing him out, and asked, “Then what are the trading terms you’re proposing, Duke?”
“If we’re to handle only materials procurement and sales, it means we shouldn’t interfere with Potion production—but isn’t that terribly inefficient? There’s no need for that. If you simply share the Compounding Method with us, we’ll handle production through distribution ourselves.”
“The Potion’s Compounding Method… you want us to hand it over?”
“Of course, we’ll pay Royalty to House Namoie. However, once we handle everything from production to distribution, the profit split would have to change. How does sixty percent for us and forty percent for the Countess sound?”
“What?”
She couldn’t even laugh in disbelief.
First he demanded the Compounding Method, and then the profit split was outright preposterous.
‘This guy’s an absolute con artist.’
As Pesha’s expression made clear her disapproval, Duke Clark clicked his tongue.
“You should understand I’ve been generous. We’re handling the entire process for you, yet we’re offering forty percent—and for a product with such limited sales in the Eastern Region alone.”
The skill with which he denigrated the other party as worthless was truly an art form.
“I normally don’t accept contracts that result in such losses. But I’m making an exception because I admire Duke Namoie, who brought peace to the empire.”
“You call this good terms?”
“Frankly, the Countess isn’t even a certified apothecary, is she? Do you know how rare it is to find anyone willing to entertain proposals from an amateur? We’re doing you a favor. We are.”
This must be what they call gaslighting.
What had begun as an equal business transaction had somehow shifted in an instant—now it appeared Duke Clark was the one graciously extending his benevolence.
Just as Pesha was about to fire back, Owen rose from his seat beside her.
When he spoke, his voice was glacial.
“I’ve heard enough. Let’s go.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Without sparing Duke Clark so much as a glance, Owen extended his hand to help Pesha up from her chair.
“Are you really going to sit here and listen to more of this nonsense?”
“Nonsense! This is a proposal we’re making for your benefit!”
“Duke Clark.”
The look in Owen’s eyes as he stared down at the Duke was nothing short of chilling.
“Do you find me amusing?”
At Owen’s blank, unwavering gaze, Duke Clark flinched—then launched into a tirade.
“Y-you insolent wretch! A commoner who knows nothing but how to swing a sword, daring to speak to me!”
Duke Clark tried to intimidate him with rank and bloodline, but against a man he’d have had his throat cut by before uttering another word if they’d ever met on the battlefield, it rang hollow.
He seemed to know it too. His voice grew loud with desperation, but his frame trembled at the mere thought of Owen approaching him.
Yet Owen gave no sign of interest in him whatsoever. He simply held out his hand to Pesha, gesturing with his eyes for her to take it.
Ordinarily, Pesha would have deployed her social skills to salvage a collapsed negotiation, knowing she had to mend things.
But today, for some reason, her body moved faster than her thoughts.
She took Owen’s hand without hesitation.
Grasping it firmly, she walked straight out of the Reception Room.
“You shouldn’t waste your time listening to anyone belittle your efforts.”
“Still, it might have been better to attempt some negotiation…”
“A negotiation would have been possible with someone reasonable. That man clearly isn’t.”
“…….”
He had a point.
Duke Clark seemed desperate to minimize the Potion’s value and maximize his own profits.
She hadn’t expected things to flow smoothly, but the real problem was that if even a major house like the Uz Company conducted business this way, she doubted anyone else would behave differently.
‘And there’s something even more troubling.’
She had hoped that if things went well with the Uz Company, it might create an opportunity for Owen and Io to meet. But now, with things falling apart with Duke Clark, that hope had crumbled.
Though a falling-out with Duke Clark wouldn’t prevent her from meeting Io, his obedient daughter would never accept the idea of meeting Owen behind her father’s back.
‘This is a problem.’
Pesha rubbed her forehead, thinking hard.
She came to a decision: if it had come to this, she’d have to bring Io’s allies into the picture sooner than planned.
The person in the original story who befriends Io and helps her—that would be the only option now. It wasn’t the time to be choosy.

‘Since I’ve already sided with Io as the villain, there’s no harm in getting to know this person beforehand—someone who was meant to help her all along.’
The moment her decision crystallized, Pesha stopped following Owen.
She felt Owen turn back in confusion.
“Is something the matter?”
“There’s somewhere I need to go.”
“Somewhere?”
“I just remembered someone who can help.”
The instant Pesha boarded the carriage, she ordered the driver to take her to the Fontloy Company.
The Fontloy Company’s headquarters occupied a building no less impressive than the Uz Company’s own.
After confirming the Potion bottles were safely in her hand bag, she stepped inside; a staff member who appeared to be a manager emerged and addressed them both.
“Welcome to the Fontloy Company headquarters. What brings you here today?”
Owen, uncertain of her purpose, looked to Pesha—and she answered with quiet confidence.
“I’ve come to see the Duke Fontloy.”
“I beg your pardon?”
The staff member asked again as if he’d misheard, but Pesha’s reply remained unchanged.
“I’ve come to meet with the Duke Fontloy.”
“To my knowledge, there are no appointments scheduled for this morning. Did you send word ahead?”
There’d been no opportunity to send word.
Beyond that, most major merchant lords were too occupied or too proud to grant audiences to anyone without connections.
Formally announce yourself and request a meeting without backing, and you’d either be refused outright or pushed so far back in the schedule it might as well be a refusal.
It was simpler to show up unannounced and settle matters face-to-face.
“I haven’t sent word, but there’s an important matter I must discuss with your lord.”
“An important matter, you say……”
“It concerns business, so I can’t say more. Just tell him that Namoie wishes to discuss a transaction with the Company.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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