Chapter 275: Money War (5)
Vikir pressed the cat mask tightly onto his face and stepped out.
His target was Demian, a man with long dark brown hair in the distance.
He holds the title of Director of the Imperial Money Manufacturing Bureau and an outside director of the Bourgeois Landowners Guild.
An unusual position, half Imperial official, half director of a private company.
This is hard to understand without knowing the backstory of his exile after losing an internal family political battle.
He may have lost the Game of Thrones, but he was so capable and politically aware that even the Bourgeois family couldn't completely disown him.
So, in addition to overseeing the work of the Money Manufacturing Bureau in the Empire, he also has a hand in the inner workings of the Bourgeois family's largest landowning guild.
However, his status as a civil servant comes first, and he is not allowed to interfere in the affairs of his own family, so his position as a Director of the Landowners' Guild is almost unnoticed.
His influence within the family is also minimal, almost non-existent compared to his title and social standing as an earl.
Vikir thought quietly.
'Maybe his elevation to Director was a voluntary choice to survive.'
For those who challenged the throne and lost, there was only death, or worse, exile.
To avoid such an outcome, the brilliant and competent Demian would have instigated a promotion as soon as he realized he would not be able to hold the position of Householder.
To receive national protection.
'Fearful of his own family, he volunteers to be the state's dog.'
In other words, he was afraid of his family, so he turned to his job.
Vikir's assessment of this choice was simple.
'Wise.'
Vikir knew all too well that family can be your worst enemy.
You're closer to them than anyone else, but they can hurt you more than anyone else.
In that case, Demian's decision to turn his back on his family and join the imperial service was a wise one.
He was able to keep the Bourgeois in check, at least in a small way, by having the imperial favor.
'Damien's knowledge of the Bourgeois's inner workings would be a great asset to the imperial family.'
We've already analyzed the newspaper articles and know that he's at enmity with the Bourgeois family.
In other words, Demian is currently walking a fine line between the imperial family and the Bourgeois.
In addition to being a skilled merchant, he is also a skilled politician.
Vikir continued to move forward, passing out cocktail glasses to those around him like the other servants.
Even Dolores didn't know that he was disguised as a servant here and now, so he moved more stealthily and discreetly.
The gap between him and Damien was now only a few meters or so.
He was chatting with the people who had gathered around him.
"Hahaha, money is such a great thing."
"They say there's nothing money can't do."
"I can't believe you young juniors can afford such a luxury. Honestly, I'm a little surprised."
"Indeed, money is something to be enjoyed once earned."
"I can see why the phrase "Golden Universalism" came about."
The people with drinks in their hands were laughing in a drunken way.
Then. One of them said.
"Ah, money is great, but it's not everything. How many things in the world can't you do with money?"
This is a response to the saying that gold is everything.
Then the other person next to him said
"Uh-huh. Don't you know a saying that's popular among young people these days?"
"Oi, what's that?"
"If there's something you can't solve with money, you should think about whether you don't have enough money, hahahaha!"
At those words, the crowd burst into laughter.
"That's right. Having money doesn't make you happy, but not having money makes you unhappy."
"Sure. Eat good things, wear good things, ride in good things, sleep in good places, travel in good places, buy good toys, give good gifts to good people. Because if you're full and warm in the first place, you have a much better chance of being happy than anyone else."
"Hehe- when I was younger, I thought money was the best, but now that I'm older, I realize that money is even better than I thought when I was younger!"
"That's right, when I was younger, I envied people with money the most, but now that I'm an adult, I still envy people with money the most."
"One time I said, 'I wish I had a lot of money,' and someone said, 'Money can't buy happiness.' ' And I was like, 'Who said I want to be happy? I said I want to have a lot of money.'"
"Really, money is a great invention. It's the greatest symbol of humanity."
The conversation soon turned to praising the greatness of money.
It may be an obvious topic since they are all figures in the business world, but in fact, there was another intention behind it.
It was also an indirect flattery towards Demian, the maker of 'money' itself.
Director of the Imperial Money Manufacturing Bureau. The man who prints the currency of the land.
As the person most closely associated with money, it was assumed that he would have a certain pride and awe towards the item called money.
However.
"...."
Director Demian only laughed bitterly.
Then, without another word, he left the room and headed for the terrace alone.
The suddenly somber atmosphere had everyone wondering if they had said something wrong, but no one could put their finger on it.
"What, what, didn't the Director look a little unhappy just now?"
"Hmm. Did we do something wrong?"
"Not really. We said all the right things."
"Maybe he was just drunk?"
"You're right. He seemed a little tired when he walked into the party in the first place."
"... Plus, he's got 'daughter issues.'"
The others all nodded at the last one.
"Now that I think about it, his daughter has become like that...."
"You mean Juliet, I've heard the news."
"She was so young and beautiful, it's a shame."
"No wonder he feels so bad, then."
They talked about Demian and his daughter's misfortune for a few minutes until the new dancers came in and captured everyone's attention with their energetic dance.
Compared to the expensive liquor that went into their mouths, the sympathy that came out of their mouths seemed pretty cheap.
* * *
"...Whoa."
Demian. He was leaning against the terrace, staring out into the night.
Beyond the silken curtains, he could see the beautiful landscape of the Imperial Capital.
The blue night sky. It was cozy and comforting, the kind of place you want to curl up in and fall asleep.
But Demian only glanced at it for a moment before turning away.
Loud music and excited voices from the hall beyond. Everyone was talking about tonight's party.
Suddenly, he remembered the story he heard in the hall.
"... money."
He was no stranger to money.
From the time he was born, he had a golden spoon of enormous purity in his mouth, and when he was young, he accumulated enormous wealth through numerous commercial ventures.
Now, in his twilight years, he was the head of a money printing institution.
In other words, a man who has spent his entire life around money. He was a being who had held an incalculable amount of money in his hands.
But even Demian flinched at the voice behind him.
"Do you think there's anything in this world that money can't do?"
Demian turned his head and looked behind him.
How close had he gotten? A boy in a cat mask stood behind him.
At first, Demian thought it was just one of the servants who had come to him out of admiration.
But then he realized.
'...No presence?'
The boy approached without a sound and stood behind him like a ghost.
The movements were too subtle to be attributed to a servant who was simply trained in movement.
But Demian was indeed a smart man.
He didn't show his displeasure or yell or anything.
He just tried to talk to him, to smooth things over.
"You know, a lot."
Demian nodded, then turned his gaze to the night sky.
"Money is just one of many means to achieve a goal. And there are as many unfulfilled goals as there are stars in the night sky. That's what makes us human."
Demian replied in a casual voice, casually stepping away from the railing.
To return to the party hall.
Then. The servant boy said.
"So what's the farthest and brightest of those stars?"
"...?"
Demian turned his head with a questioning look, and the servant boy was still standing there.
A star. Shining brightly in the night sky.
A lofty, distant goal that was truly desirable, but impossible to achieve, even for a man of Demian's status.
"...Isn't that what it means to meet your dead daughter?"
The servant boy's words stopped Demian in his tracks.
There is a moment of silence, and the night air grows even colder.
Finally, Demian spoke.
"It's about meeting the dead."
He turned at an angle and looked at the servant boy.
His gaze, unlike before, was sharpened.
"...I can't do it, but it looks like you'll be able to soon."
At the same time, a terrifying surge of murderous intent surged out.
Jizzzzt-
A flash of light. A golden stiletto flew out of Demian's waistband and into the servant boy's shoulder.
Demian thought briefly.
This spoiled servant boy will feel the fear of death, but his life will not be in danger.
But he will have to live with an uncomfortable arm for the rest of his life as a punishment for running his mouth at a high ranking nobleman.
But.
...bang!
Demian's thoughts were interrupted.
And the quick sword that was deployed quickly also missed.
A sharp crimson sword protruding from the back of the servant boy's hand deflected his sword.
At the same time, Demian's eyes opened wide as if they were torn apart.
"...N-Night Hound?"
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