The Scoundrel Prince Sold Out the Empire - 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: The Endgame of Two Zions (9)
A luxury passenger ship bound from the Empire to Deber.
Beyond the rolling sea, the distant shores of Deber come into view.
The Marchioness of Gabel, who had been watching the scene through the window, could contain herself no longer and hurled a glass across the room.
Crash!
“What on earth is this nonsense!”
The shrill shriek of the Marchioness’s voice was far more grating than the sound of shattering glass.
“Tell me again. Where exactly is the 9th Prince staying!”
“In the hotel where we had hoped to lodge you, madam. He appears to be a long-term resident.”
This was the carefully measured information the hotel staff had conveyed when a room was requested under the name of House of Gabel.
A sensible precaution. Whatever the manager’s personal feelings, the worst-case scenario of the two of them encountering each other in the hotel had to be prevented at all costs.
“How is this possible!”
At the shrill pitch of her voice, one of the handmaids flinched. She was a gray-haired attendant who had recently replaced Daien, the young servant girl who had disappeared.
Caught off guard, hesitating for only a moment, the flying glass struck her face.
Crash!
“Ahhh!”
The maid crumpled to the floor, her face badly cut, but no one paid her any mind.
More precisely, they dared not.
A single glance would have invited the same treatment upon themselves.
“Explain yourself! How is the 9th Prince lodging in the finest hotel in Deber!”
As the chamberlain’s account continued, her ragged breathing grew faster and faster.
Finally, when the Marchioness heard the full extent of the 9th Prince’s current circumstances, she erupted once more.
“So he—the wretch who should be worried about his next meal—is now patting his full belly and living in comfort!”
The Marquis of Gabel remained unconscious.
Yet contrary to her expectations, the 9th Prince was suffering no hardship whatsoever.
This could not be tolerated.
‘Zion Riobeldt. I shall become the sharpest blade to sever your lifeline.’
This journey had been undertaken to soothe her resentment by witnessing his pathetic state firsthand.
But now there was a certain thrill in the prospect of settling that debt with her own hands.
A burning hatred ignited in the Marchioness’s eyes.
* * *
“President Lumio. Don’t you think the exterior looks rather crude? We must remember that our target customers are the top twenty percent of the wealthy.”
“As I’ve mentioned, it needs to be the sort of design that makes wealthy people desire to own one at home. In modern terminology, we need Design—surely you understand?”
“This looks like nothing more than two stacked white iron boxes. Our Refrigerator is a high-value Magical artifact. Once someone has made the investment to purchase one, they should be able to place it somewhere visible, invite acquaintances over, and proudly open its doors to produce ice and distribute cold beer.”
Zion lay sprawled on the sofa with his arm pillowing his head, counting the patterns on the ceiling.
Ah. This is comfortable.
“President Lumio! Design! I’m telling you we need Design!”
Lumio stammered in response to Winter’s demands.
“But Advisor Winter, my aesthetic sense is rather… lacking.”
Winter strode purposefully to Zion’s desk and opened a drawer.
“Here. Take this. I can’t believe you still haven’t hired a designer.”
Winter pressed a thick wad of banknotes into Lumio’s hands with the air of someone dispensing charity with money not their own.
Yet Zion said nothing.
‘Ah. How comfortable.’
Why bother intervening when the business runs itself perfectly well without him?
Since Winter handles all the finances anyway, watching money increase or decrease here and there is meaningless.
Unless one intends to oversee and manage every single detail personally.
‘At that rate, I might as well give up on business altogether and turn to bank robbery instead.’
How tedious to actually do any of this himself.
The ideal arrangement was to delegate everything entirely, but occasionally impress with Magic and keep everyone sufficiently nervous to maintain focus.
“Your Highness.”
After finishing his lecture and sending Lumio on his way, Winter began his report.
“The Refrigerator-14 that President Lumio completed this time has quite respectable quality. I believe it’s time we began seeking sales channels.”
The number appended to the name, incidentally, indicates the prototype version.
That cunning Winter. Barely a month and a half has passed, and already we’re on version fourteen.
Well done.
“Already selling? You were just complaining about it moments ago.”
Winter replied without the slightest concern.
“The finished product was satisfactory, but a man like President Lumio requires constant pressure. He’s the type who produces something new whenever you keep pushing—moderately clumsy yet moderately capable at research, ambitious, and responsive to discipline.”
Well, he’s not entirely wrong about that.
Something feels off.
“He’s got ambition, but not excessive. He listens well. Engineers like Lumio are best when you grind them down. That’s how business flourishes.”
“Engineers?”
“University slang. It’s what they call students trained in Magical Engineering.”
A fragment of memory flickered across my mind.
“Your Highness, could you make this? It’ll only take an hour, won’t it?”
“What? There aren’t even materials——”
“Oh, come on, you can do it. You’re Deber’s greatest genius, after all.”
I understood why the feeling had unsettled me.
“Winter, I’m banning that term.”
“Pardon? Why so suddenly?”
“Because I’m banning it.”
In any case, there was plenty to do before launching the refrigerator business in earnest.
“Since Lumio won’t have the capital, I’ll need to cover factory expansion and hiring out of my own pocket.”
“It’s unavoidable at first. But after dividends start, Lumio agreed to take it on himself, so in the long run it’s not a loss.”
I’d squeezed Dechion and Rejou dry and made a fortune, but a substantial portion of my reserves would have to flow into Blen Industry.
As for Kreyna, my only remaining partner, I wasn’t pushing her for investment capital.
“So essentially all the business costs come out of my own pocket.”
“You’re holding 76 percent of the equity, so you do need to bear that much.”
“What do you care?”
I pulled a stack of checks from the drawer Winter had opened earlier.
“How much?”
“Here it is.”
After reading through the accounting statement and authorization documents Winter handed me, I filled in the amount.
Then I wrote out another check.
“One million Ruon. That’s your share, Winter. A bonus.”
“Finally?”
Winter started to whistle but caught himself, glancing cautiously at me.
“Don’t want it?”
“I’m grateful to accept it.”
Winter carefully folded the check and tucked it away, then continued.
“The acquisition procedures for the farms we seized from Rejou are complete. I’ll list them on the market right away. Next, I should report on——”
“Wait. Keep the farms.”
“Sir?”
Winter flinched suddenly.
Something was off about it.
“Hand over the documents you’re looking at.”
“Your Highness? Even if you look, it’ll only confuse you. You won’t understand it.”
“Enough. It’s a prince’s order.”
“……Here it is.”
The first words visible were: ‘Better to sell unless we’re entering the grain trade.’
And on the list of properties to sell…… so that’s why he flinched?
“You quietly slipped Teraguard Farm onto the list too?”
Winter protested immediately.
“Teraguard Farm costs too much to maintain. The cafeteria there serves premium ingredients better than what I eat myself.”
I’d been thinking lately that the Guide Ring resonated with Winter in that alley because of his knack for making money and pinching pennies. Even now, this proved it.
Even at this very moment.
“It’s my money. Why do you care if it’s spent?”
“It’s money I earned. And shouldn’t we live frugally to live well?”
“I get by fine spending freely.”
“That’s precisely why I economize, Your Highness——so you can spend freely.”
“Have I been treating you too easily lately? What happened to that Winter Flowering from a couple months back, working like a dog to prove himself?”
“He disappeared after proving his abilities and gaining the certainty he wouldn’t be discarded.”
……
This time, I fell silent.
Right—it’s accurate, but that overconfidence grates on me.
“Get ready. We’re going to see Kreyna.”
Winter’s face twisted sharply.
“You’re going to buy a bunch of useless things again. We don’t have the capital, Your Highness.”
“Then earn it, my right hand.”
“I’ve done wrong. Shall we exercise restraint today? Ah, instead—what if you purchased some Brown Securities?”
Winter, who had opposed buying Brown Securities all this while.
Since there were no signs of war, Zion had no counter when Winter asked what good it would do to purchase a military contractor.
This was a good moment to overrule him once and pick up some securities—what harm could it do?
‘Without a war, those securities will be worthless, but the 3rd Prince will definitely stir up war clouds over Deber.’
According to the Guide Ring at the turning point, Brown Defense will absolutely surge in value soon.
Whether Zion himself stops the 3rd Prince’s scheme or not, war clouds are inevitable.
“Then buy just 0.1% more. Later, it will all come back as an incredible investment success—trust me on this.”
“Trust and buy, yet you claimed to know nothing of it. Please, just give me the money.”
He opened the drawer again.
0.1% of Brown Defense meant a considerable portion of what he had….
“Huh?”
The checks had run out without his noticing.
0.1% was nowhere near it—he’d be lucky to scrape together 0.01%.
When he looked up, Winter wore a smile of triumph.
“Your Highness. I cannot carry out my duties without funds from you. If you’re to step into society soon, you’ll need to purchase a residence, and there are so many other places where money flows away.”
He’d been had. This had been Winter’s plan from the start.
“No—where did all that money go?”
“You spent it bit by bit, Your Highness. Over the past month alone, you visited Madam de Gallery no fewer than once a week.”
‘Did I really go that often?’
And look at the way he stressed his words.
It was all for funding the liberation of his homeland, he’d say.
He hadn’t meant to indulge in luxury out of self-interest… though the thought had crossed his mind more than once.
“So how much is left?”
Winter produced a single statement without a word.
…Good grief. He’d spent quite a bit. Winter had a point.
A thought suddenly occurred to him.
“Winter.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Want to return your bonus?”
“I do not.”
“Thought so.”
He sighed at the prospect of having to scheme his way to more money.
He’d crushed Dechion and Rejou and hit a windfall, so why was he broke already?
Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong!
The doorbell rang loudly. His brow furrowed.
“Who rings the bell with so little manners?”
One press and Winter would surely go open the door.
“Your Highness. There is a middle-aged woman at the door. Do you have an appointment, perchance?”
“An appointment? A middle-aged woman? I don’t know her.”
The only middle-aged woman he knew was Kreyna, though “middle-aged” hardly seemed the right word from appearances alone. Winter didn’t not know her, either,
“Open the door.”
“Very well.”
It was the moment Winter opened it.
“Madam! This is the residence of the 9th Prince, Zion Riobeldt, Your Highness!”
“You needn’t have bothered learning—be silent.”
A middle-aged woman strode in and planted herself before him.
Was she angry?
Who was she?
“A subject of the Empire pays her respects to one of the Divine Race.”
A cold smile accompanied her bow.
“No need for formality, yes? Thank you, Your Highness.”
What was she playing at?
“To think you would dare such a thing and yet lounge about at ease. I could not bear to watch idly, so I came myself. Today I will content myself with a warning—do not worry. I shall do my utmost to make your life in Deber far more entertaining henceforth. Hehehehe.”
He stared blankly at her, then opened his mouth.
“Tell me one thing.”
No matter how hard he racked his memory, nothing came.
“Who are you?”
“…You don’t know me?”
“No. Are you someone famous enough that I, of all people, ought to know you?”
A middle-aged woman had begun to tremble violently.
“Ninth Prince! How far do you intend to humiliate House of Gabel!”
What’s this. The Marchioness of Gabel?
“…I can’t believe it. Really? You climbed all the way to Marquess and then married someone as ugly as you?”
A fit of rage burst from his lips.
“Ninth Prince!”
The way her mouth hung agape was truly hideous.
She craved power so much, yet marriage…
Sometimes it seemed there was nothing quite as futile as power itself.

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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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