FSTE 07

Chapter 07

The man who was expected to be eliminated was named Miguel.
He was a broker who supplied raw materials—such as medicinal ingredients and dyes—to alchemy workshops and weaving houses.

However, rather than simply taking a brokerage fee, his contracts worked more like futures trading: he set a fixed supply price in advance and pocketed the profit from market fluctuations.
Because of that, the most important part of the deal was predicting price movements and setting a supply price that both sides could accept.

In truth, Miguel’s market forecasts themselves weren’t particularly flawed.
The problem was that he couldn’t make his clients believe in them.

When Rian had him do a mock presentation, the issue became obvious at a glance.

“Farmer Juan is an artist. Every flower grown on his farm is touched with care, imbued with a soul, and its value cannot be measured in mere gold coins—”

“…That’s enough. I’ve heard plenty.”

Rian rubbed his face and let out a long sigh.

This wasn’t some street stall hawking cheap goods.
Miguel’s pitch appealed only to emotion, completely failing to convey the information that actually mattered.

A weaver or potter might not know any better, but an alchemist—clearly a technical-minded type—would never be swayed by that kind of rhetoric.

And that wasn’t the only problem.

“I’m pretty sure I told you to persuade me using the product you’d actually be signing a contract for.”

The item Miguel had presented was a dye made from dried flower stigmas, like saffron.
When prices were high, it could be worth far more than gold by weight—and right now was exactly that season.

“W-Well, when prices are high like now, it’s advantageous for negotiating supply rates—”

“Right. You take a small loss now and aim for profit when prices crash later. That’s the core of this trading method.”

“Exactly! The stigma of moonlight lilies can drop to a quarter of its price in summer!”

“And do you have the luxury of waiting until then?”

“Ah…!”

“Haa…”

Another sigh escaped Rian.

He was on the verge of being fired in just a couple of months, yet he wanted to trade a product that would be in the red for the entire quarter.

Desperate or not, there were limits to short-sighted thinking.
This, too, was the result of being obsessed with increasing the number of new deals without considering anything else.

Well… I don’t exactly have room to criticize.

These were mistakes Rian himself had made many times in his previous life.
That was why Miguel’s situation didn’t feel like someone else’s problem.

“First, we need to change the product.”

“The product? To what…?”

“Among medicinal ingredients and dyes, there are mineral-based materials, right? Especially ones with large year-round price fluctuations.”

“If that’s what you mean, there’s lapis lazuli—our company’s signature product—and also azurite, cinnabar, malachite, plenty of them.”

A professional really was a professional.
Ask, and the answers came immediately.

“Pick one whose price has just dropped sharply.”

“What?”

Honestly, what other way was there to quickly boost short-term results?
You buy cheap and sell expensive—that’s all.

“Minerals are easy to store long-term, so you can stockpile before prices rise. If you account for that, you can still secure enough price competitiveness.”

Of course, there were warehouse rental fees and security costs to consider.
But Rian trusted Miguel to calculate those himself.

If he couldn’t manage even that, then he really should leave the trading company.

“But who in their right mind would accept a supply price higher than the current market?”

“You have to convince them. That it only looks like a loss now, but it’s a long-term gain.”

“That’s easier said than done…”

Rian understood Miguel’s hesitation.
People naturally focus more on immediate gains and losses than on an uncertain future.

And Miguel, in particular, was severely lacking in verbal persuasion skills.

“In the first place, this kind of trading model is meant to reduce the risk of sudden price surges for the client.”

Looked at another way, it was basically insurance.
If you could just demonstrate certainty about future risks and compensation, it was bound to work.

“There’s a proverb from my hometown: seeing once is better than hearing a hundred times.”

As he said that, Rian picked up one of the price charts lying on Miguel’s desk.
He grabbed a blank sheet of paper and began drawing long lines across it.

It was a graph—something far too familiar to modern people.

“Huh? What’s that?”

“Oh, this? It’s the strongest magic there is—one that can persuade anyone.”

Rian was about to teach him one of the greatest inventions to come out of eighteenth-century statistics.

* * *

The day continued much like any other.

“Calculate this.”

“Yes.”

Rian took the paper handed to him by Diego the accountant and wrote down the results.

Had it already been about a month since he’d started acting as that damned goat-bearded man’s human calculator?
Diego still refused to reveal anything beyond raw numbers, clearly trying to keep information hidden.

So this item’s tax rate is 44%? That’s absurdly high… though I guess this is already the minimum.

By now, Rian could almost see what the numbers meant just by looking at them.

“Hey, slave.”

“It’s Rian.”

“Your name isn’t important. Anyway, I hear you’ve been hanging around that soon-to-be dropout lately?”

“Miguel? You’re late to the news. It’s been a while.”

“What a waste of time. Don’t give false hope to someone who’s about to leave.”

Was Diego actually feeling a tiny bit of sympathy for Miguel?
There was no mockery in his tone—just dry, unnecessary concern.

Knock knock.

“Excuse me, Sir Diego.”

“Come in.”

The office door opened, and a clerk from the annex entered carrying a stack of documents.

“These are the ledgers that have been settled for this month.”

“Good work. You may go.”

“Yes, sir.”

The clerk bowed to Diego, then glanced briefly at Rian.
There was something complicated in that look.

“Tch. Every last one of them spends money like it’s not their own…”

Diego’s grumbling was nothing new.

According to Miguel, a company trader’s job wasn’t all that different from being an independent merchant.
The biggest difference was that all the capital came from Isabel’s pocket.

From purchasing trade goods to logistics and taxes, Isabel covered every expense—and naturally, all profits belonged to her as well.
The traders were essentially salaried employees.

They did receive bonuses for new contracts, though.
So it was understandable that traders like Miguel—who had many contracts but terrible actual results—were cut loose.

At least they weren’t forced to compensate losses.

“Hmm? Huh…? What?”

As Diego reviewed the monthly ledgers, his expression shifted moment by moment, accompanied by strange exclamations.
After staring at the papers for a long while, he slowly raised his gaze and fixed it on Rian.

Seeing his flushed face, Rian was briefly concerned about the old man’s health.

“I know I’m handsome, but I belong to Lady Isabel, so don’t get any ideas.”

“You little brat… what on earth did you do…?”

“Me? What did I do?”

“No. It must just be a coincidence… ahem!”

As if refusing to believe what he’d seen, Diego shook his head and turned the page.

Rian smirked and spun the wooden charcoal holder between his fingers.

Diego hadn’t said it outright, but Rian more or less understood what was going on.
It was about time the magic started bearing fruit.

* * *

The office of the Lapis Lazuli Trading Company was always noisy, but today, unlike usual, everyone was talking about the same thing.

“Did you hear? Miguel landed a new contract supplying lapis lazuli at three times the current market price.”

“No way! At this time of year? On a new contract?”

“It already happened. What’s there to argue about?”

It wasn’t exactly a rip-off.
It just so happened that lapis lazuli prices were at an all-time low right now.

Once prices stabilized, they’d at least double—and if they skyrocketed, they could jump five or six times higher.
It was a perfectly reasonable price.

What was unbelievable was that someone had signed such a contract right now.

“Wait! Then the person scheduled to be cut this season—”

“It’s definitely not Miguel.”

“Hold on… ngh! I need to run the numbers!”

A predetermined fate had been overturned.
The arrow that once pointed in a fixed direction now had no clear destination.

“Damn it… this is cutting it close. Should we dump the goods in storage onto the market right now…?”

“No! If only those desert bastards hadn’t interfered—!”

Cries of panic and groans erupted throughout the office.

Those who had relaxed, convinced Miguel would be eliminated and winter would be safe, now found flames licking at their feet.

“Miguel, you trade with that alchemy workshop on Safflower Street, right? I want to make regular purchases—could you maybe…?”

“Hey, Miguel! About what you mentioned last time—I’ve been thinking…”

“Hey! I was talking first!”

The colleagues who had once treated Miguel like a ghost suddenly changed their tune.

“Haha. I’m not going anywhere, so let’s all talk calmly.”

Miguel greeted them with a smile.
There was no trace left of the gloom that once hung over him.

Their sudden shift in attitude was irritating, but for a merchant, profit mattered more than fleeting emotions.
Information sharing among traders—and future connections through clients—could lead to even greater gains.

“Hey, Miguel…”

Another colleague approached his desk.

“Ah, you’re—”

A haggard face, worn thin in just a few days.
It was the same expression Miguel himself had worn not long ago.

“That slave, right? Isabel’s pet slave helped you, didn’t he? He must’ve put in a good word for you.”

“Whoa, calm down. Easy there.”

“Help me! Because you climbed up, I’m the one in danger now! If this keeps up, I’ll—”

“Alright, alright. I get it. Just calm down first.”

Miguel forced a bitter smile as he soothed the desperate man clinging to him.

Considering how he’d been treated until recently, it would’ve been fair to ignore such a request.
But he owed Rian a debt.

“Everything else aside, let’s get one thing straight. This goes for all of you.”

Miguel looked at his colleagues with an expression more serious than ever.

“His name is Rian. Don’t just call him a slave.”

“What…?”

“If you want his help, start by remembering his name properly.”

“Rian…”

The traders repeated the name blankly.

“Listen up! I have no intention of hiding the method that got me through my crisis!”

“What?! Miguel?”

Suddenly, Miguel climbed onto his desk and shouted toward everyone in the office.

The noisy office fell silent in an instant, all eyes turning to him.

“Every bit of this incredible success is thanks to the magic of persuasion that Rian taught me!”

The office erupted again.

“R-Rian?”

“You mean Lady Isabel’s pet slave?”

“But the magic of persuasion…? That slave has skills like that?”

“No way! He must’ve just asked Isabel to cover for his friend!”

“That makes even less sense. Does Lady Isabel seem like the type?”

Some didn’t believe Miguel, but most seemed convinced.
Frankly, there was no other way to explain such a dramatic reversal.

And according to rumors, wasn’t Isabel planning to train that slave boy as a new accountant?

“Remember this! If you want Rian’s help, show him respect first! Drop the ‘pet slave’ nonsense!”

Miguel didn’t think a few words like that were enough to repay Rian.

But as a merchant above all else,
he couldn’t stand by and watch Rian’s true value go unrecognized.

“Of course! There’s no way Lady Isabel would invest three hundred gold coins just for a pretty face!”

“So that slave—no, that kid named Rian—does he really have something special?”

Soon, the office was filled with the name Rian.

To some, a threat.
To others, an object of curiosity.
And to still others, a lifeline.

Creeeak—

As always, at the same hour, the door connecting to Isabel’s mansion opened, and all eyes turned that way.

“Good work today, everyone—”

“Hey, Rian! Let’s talk!”

“Rian! We see each other all the time, right? We always exchange looks!”

“Rian! No—Sir Rian!”

As Rian appeared, people swarmed toward him.

“What the—why is everyone suddenly acting so friendly?”

Rian was a little flustered by the sudden change.
But when he saw Miguel standing atop his desk, smiling proudly, he more or less understood.

“Ha. That guy really is popular.”

And so, spreading his arms wide, Rian gladly accepted the change.