Perspective: Kaiser
Location: Commercial District — Central Granary Exchange of Sylvaris
Time:7:09 PM — February 3, 2018
Achoo!
Dang it. I probably need to grab some cold meds on the way back.
Seems like I caught a cold. Ahhh...
I shook my right hand, wiping the chill from my nose with the back of my cuff before burying both hands into my coat pockets.
Ooh, it's way too cold out here tonight.
Gotta wrap this meeting up quickly and head straight back to Room 204. I'm way too lazy to even cook dinner tonight. Bread and water will do just fine.
Under my left arm, I held a cheap, crinkly white plastic shopping bag stuffed with my notes and reagents. Clutched in my right hand was a fluffy, bright pink plush bunny doll sporting a neat silk bow tie.
I was wearing a freshly pressed black suit with a tailored black tie.
Oh wow. Needing to dress up like I'm rich and behave professionally... just what I always dreamed of doing with my life.
Ahead of me loomed the monolithic iron perimeter gates of the Central Granary Exchange.
It was the undisputed heart of the eastern calorie trade. The monopolized agricultural hub of Sylvaris that fed the entire metropolitan population and every single satellite community for miles. Core staple grains—wheat, barley, rye, and oats. Secondary imports—southern river-route rice, mountain maize, root crops, and dried legumes.
Massive fleets of heavy draft wagons, river barges, and armed overland caravans constantly entered and departed through its logistics docks. Dozens of commercial flour mills, thousands of contract farmers, and 1 high elf sitting at the apex of the entire regional food supply.
A total monopoly over the eastern territories of Celestine.
The biggest monopoly on this side of the continent. But that's alright, I guess. The best I can do is talk to the elf and get this over with.
As I approached the iron gates, a small, trembling voice caught my ear.
Sitting curled on the frozen stones outside the guard post was a tiny demon girl. She couldn't have been older than 7 or 8 years old. She wore baggy, ripped, threadbare clothes that hung loosely off her frail shoulders. 2 small, smooth black demon horns poked out from beneath a messy mop of snow-white hair, framing a pair of enormous, tear-streaked purple eyes.
She was shivering violently, clutching the heavy iron bars as she looked up at the gatekeeper.
"P-Please, mister... c-can... can I get something to eat, please? I-I haven't eaten in 3 days..."
The guard looked down at her with pure disgust curled across his lips.
"No. We don't have handouts for filthy demons. Get lost!"
The little girl reached out with trembling, scraped fingers, desperately tugging at the hem of his heavy wool coat.
"B-But please—just a crust of b-bread—anything—"
The guard shoved his boot forward, kicking her backward.
Her tiny knees scraped hard against the cobblestones, and she tumbled onto the frozen ground, crying softly.
"We're locking the perimeter for the night, so scram! Go beg at some tavern in the slums! Don't loiter in front of our gate!"
The guard was a broad, muscular brute with short black hair, hard black eyes, and an iron patrol cap, leaning lazily against his halberd. He gave her a sharp, cruel glare before turning his back.
The little girl sniffled, crawling backward on her hands and knees before scrambling to her feet. Hugging her shivering ribs, she hurried across the street with tears streaming down her pale cheeks.
I watched her retreat into the dim lamplight.
This world truly is rotten.
I turned on my heel and crossed the cobblestone street.
The little girl had slumped down against the frozen brick wall of an alley, curling her knees to her chest, burying her face into her oversized sleeves as she cried. Black horns, white hair, purple eyes, and clothes that looked like they had survived a storm.
I walked over and crouched down, bringing my eyes level with hers.
"What's wrong, kiddo?"
She flinched violently, shrinking back into the brick corner like a frightened kitten.
"W-Who are you...?"
"Me? I'm... let's just say a homeless guy," I said, giving her a mild, reassuring grin.
"My name is Kaiser. What's your name?"
She sniffled, wiping her nose with her dirty sleeve.
"M-Me? I am me."
I chuckled softly.
"You are you? Then I am me too."
She shook her head rapidly, her purple eyes wide with serious innocence.
"N-No, no... I-I am Liliath."
"Liliath," I repeated gently. "What a cute name."
Her pale cheeks flushed bright pink in an instant.
"M-My name is... c-cute?"
I nodded, closing my eyes with a warm, relaxed smile.
"Mmh. Extremely cute."
"A-Ah... t-thank you..." she mumbled, visibly flustered.
Grumbleee!
A sound like an angry cave bear echoed from her tiny stomach.
She clamped both hands over her belly, her face turning even redder.
"S-Sorry... I'm r-really hungry..."
I reached into my bag and pulled out the fluffy pink bunny doll with the bow tie, holding it out to her.
"Do you want this cute bunny?"
Her jaw dropped. Her purple eyes sparkled with utter wonder as she stared at the soft plush.
"S-So adorable... c-can I really have it?"
"Of course. Take it, Lily."
She gingerly reached out, taking the bunny into her tiny hands and hugging it tightly against her chest. Then she paused, blinking up at me.
"L-Lily?"
"Yeah. It's just a shorter, cuter name," I replied with a wink. "You don't mind, right?"
"N-No, I d-don't mind... but why Lily?"
"Because you're really cute and really adorable, Liliath. I just wanted to call you Lily, that's all."
Her cheeks burned so hot I thought steam might rise from her black horns. She began kicking her little feet against the curb in pure, flustered embarrassment.
"A-Ahhhhhhh..."
"So, Lily, where are your parents? Why are you out here in the freezing cold alone?"
Her kicking stopped. Her little shoulders slumped, and her fingers buried into the pink fur of the bunny.
"M-My mama disappeared weeks ago..."
"What happened to her?"
"S-She was an adventurer..." Lily's voice cracked, tears welling up in her lower eyelids again. "She always came home late after work, but... weeks ago, she j-just stopped coming home..."
She buried her face into the bunny's ears, sobs shaking her small frame.
"A-And when I asked at the guild... they said she won't be coming back ever again... A-And then the landlord, because we couldn't pay rent for 2 months, he k-kicked me out... A-And I've been living on the streets... not being able to eat... not being able to..."
Her words dissolved into messy, heartbreaking whimpers.
I reached out and gently rested my hand on her messy silver-white hair, brushing the tangled strands away from her forehead with slow, patient warmth.
"M-My hair is dirty..." she whispered timidly, ducking her chin.
"It's fine. We'll get it cleaned up soon," I told her smoothly. "What kind of shampoo do you like?"
She blinked up through damp eyelashes.
"S-Shampoo?"
"Yeah. On the way back, I'll buy you a bottle."
"R-Really? Umm... I like... apple scented shampoo... "
"Of course. I'm a very rich homeless man."
"Y-You're homeless too?"
"Yeah. I pay rent to a terrifying landlord, but practically speaking, I'm homeless."
Lily stared at me for 3 seconds with deadpan, adorable seriousness. Then her face brightened with a sudden idea.
"T-Then... you can stay with me! I have a b-box house near the alley... I stay there..."
My heart gave a sharp, heavy twist inside my chest.
A 7-year-old girl living alone inside a cardboard box in freezing weather... offering to share her cardboard box with a stranger so he wouldn't freeze.
Man.
This kid is too pure for this godforsaken world.
"You live alone in a box... and you're offering to share it with me?"
"Y-Yes! If you're homeless, I can share with you too!" she declared proudly, puffing out her tiny chest while hugging the plush bunny.
I smiled, patting her head gently while remaining crouched on my heels.
"That's very generous of you, Lily. But that's okay. I'm going to take you somewhere much safer, alright?"
"R-Really? B-But you don't even know me..."
"I don't need to know you to know that you deserve a better future, Lily. So just wait for me right here for a bit, okay? Once I'm done inside, I'll take you with me."
"U-Um... okay..." she nodded obediently, clutching the bunny tight.
I stood up, dusting off the knees of my black slacks.
"Take good care of that bunny. A lot of people would be jealous of that bow tie. And I know you're starving, so just hang tight. That guard over there is going to come out, beg you for forgiveness on his knees, and then take you inside to feed you himself, okay?"
Lily's jaw dropped open.
"R-Really? H-How...?"
"Just wait and watch."
I gave her a quick wink, spun around, and adjusted my black necktie.
My lazy, easygoing posture vanished for half a moment as my eyes locked onto the guard post across the street.
Time to do some trolling.
I strolled casually up to the iron gate, crinkling my white plastic shopping bag with every step.
The muscular guard was still leaning on his halberd. As I approached, he straightened his posture, squinting at my black suit with immediate suspicion.
"Yo. Cool night, right?" I said cheerily.
"What do you want?" the guard barked.
"Man, do you have any sticks on you? There are a lot of stray street dogs roaming around here. It's a very scary area. You know, if you get a bite, you have to take 18 injections."
The guard's eyebrow twitched violently.
"What the hell do you want? What are you even talking about?"
"Yeah, man, I think you forgot about me," I sighed, shaking my head with exaggerated disappointment.
"Remember? We used to be classmates back in school."
The guard sneered, puffing out his chest.
"I never went to school!"
"Exactly. Uneducated. Hahaha."
The guard's face flushed a furious, vein-popping purple.
"Who the hell is this fool?!"
Before he could raise his halberd, the side door of the gatehouse swung open. A 2nd guard stepped out, adjusting his brass belt.
"Jonathan! What the hell are you doing? You're supposed to be on perimeter watch!"
Jonathan jabbed an angry finger directly at my face.
"This guy is trying to pick a fight!"
The 2nd guard turned to me, his gaze taking in my tailored black suit and the plastic bag.
"Who are you?"
"I have a meeting with your boss, Naelor," I said cleanly.
Jonathan barked out a harsh laugh.
"You? Master Naelor would speak to a random bum like you? Who the hell do you think you are?"
I didn't blink.
"Just tell him the word: K-E."
The 2nd guard froze.
The color drained instantly from his face. His hand dropped from his belt, and his posture snapped into rigid, trembling attention.
"O-Oh! Sir! Please, right this way!"
Jonathan's jaw hit the cobblestones.
"Huh?!"
I paused at the threshold, turned around, and looked at Jonathan.
I brought my right index finger and thumb to my lips, kissed them, and blew him an affectionate, theatrical flying kiss.
"Take care, Johnny boy. You'll have a lot of duties coming up later."
Jonathan sputtered, shaking so hard his halberd rattled against the stone gate.
"You bastard—!"
I chuckled and stepped through the heavy iron gates.
The interior of the Central Granary Exchange was a masterclass in bureaucratic efficiency.
Towering vaulted ceilings of dark granite arched overhead, illuminated by soft amber mana lamps. Spotless stone corridors stretched in geometric precision, completely devoid of flour dust or stray grain husks. Waste management runes hummed quietly beneath the drainage grates, maintaining immaculate climate control.
Through thick reinforced glass floors, I could see the colossal subterranean storage shafts extending 50 meters into the earth, where millions of bushels of grain were preserved under cold-stasis barriers. Dozens of clerks in immaculate charcoal coats moved with disciplined speed, stamping ledgers and filing manifests.
A well-oiled machine.
The 2nd guard led me up a grand spiral staircase to the executive wing, stopping before a pair of polished oak double doors. He knocked twice, announced my arrival, and stepped aside with a deep bow.
I pushed the door open and walked inside.
The office was massive, austere, and smelled faintly of aged parchment and dried wheat. Sitting behind a desk carved from a single slab of petrified oak was Naelor Varethiel.
The Grain Lord of Sylvaris.
He was a high elf, tall and gaunt, with silver-threaded dark hair swept back from an angular, aristocratic face. His eyes were pale amber—the color of aged clover honey—sharp, cold, and utterly detached. He wore an immaculate charcoal waistcoat adorned with intricate gold-thread embroidery depicting sheaves of ripe wheat.
A high elf. Interesting.
Naelor didn't look up from his ledger. His quill scratched against the parchment in steady, monotonous strokes.
"So you're the person who sent my mills fake seeds."
"Those weren't fake seeds," I replied casually, taking 2 steps forward. "That was a demonstration of what I can provide."
I pulled back the heavy leather guest chair and started to sit down.
Naelor's quill stopped. He lifted his gaze, his amber eyes pinning me like an icy spear.
"Did I give you permission to sit?"
"Oh. My bad."
I stood right back up without a shred of embarrassment, smiling easily.
Naelor set down his quill, folding his slender fingers over the desk.
"What do you truly want with me? Get to the point."
I stepped closer, meeting his gaze with total clarity.
"Naelor Varethiel. Master of the Central Granary Exchange. You hold exclusive commercial rights over all core grains—wheat, barley, rye, oats—and secondary crops like imported southern rice and maize. Root crops, legumes, preserved meats, flour mills, bakeries, seed distribution, transport barges, and underground silo networks across Sylvaris and its 6 satellite towns."
Naelor's brows twitched faintly.
"Are you here to recite my own monopoly to me?"
"You hold a monopoly not just over food, but over calories," I continued smoothly, resting 1 hand casually against the edge of his oak desk.
"Every single calorie that 2 million citizens consume passes through your ledgers. You set the price, you decide the supply, and because you control physical storage, you could easily hold grain off the market during shortages to drive prices through the ceiling. A classic scarcity exploitation mechanism."
Naelor's eyes narrowed coldly.
"And if I do?"
"Except you never did that," I said, cutting right through his defenses.
Naelor went completely still.
"You, Naelor Varethiel, are a man of dignity and quiet conscience. You grew up during the Asura Crisis. You watched entire villages starve because decentralized supply chains collapsed, and you built this monopoly because you genuinely believe centralization is mercy. You've consistently provided grain to the destitute at low rates across the eastern borders, and you quietly donate tons of flour to Celestine relief efforts."
I offered him a respectful nod.
"And that is why I came today with a humble business offer."
Naelor stared at me for several quiet seconds, the aristocratic frost in his eyes cracking under genuine bewilderment.
"Who are you even?"
"My name is Kaiser Everhart. Just an average, normal human being. Nothing special."
I gestured toward the chair again.
"Can I take a seat now?"
Naelor exhaled a slow, measured breath, waving his hand toward the chair.
"Go ahead. And make it quick. Don't waste my time like your seeds did, dying after just 1 day."
I sat down, crossing 1 leg over the other with a low chuckle.
"Oh, that was just a kill-switch to get your attention so I could secure this meeting. My real intention is offering you a way for us to cure world hunger."
Naelor froze, staring at me like I had just grown 2 heads.
"World hunger? What, are you a comedian now?"
"No. But I have some things you'd love to see."
I reached into my crinkly white plastic shopping bag, pulled out my thick, worn notebook, and flipped it open to the agricultural schematics. I slid it across the polished oak desk, right in front of his hands.
"Here. Take a read, sir."
Naelor looked down, his lips tightening into a skeptical line.
"This better not be a waste of paper."
He picked up the notebook.
He turned to the 1st page.
Then his eyes locked onto the genetic diagrams. The soil-enrichment algorithms.
The root architecture equations for Iron Stalk wheat, Eternal Tide rice, and Stone Root potatoes.
His pupils contracted. His breath hitched in his throat. His slender fingers tightened on the parchment as his pale amber eyes widened in pure shock.
I leaned back into the leather cushions, watching the color drain from his face with a quiet, lazy smirk.
Checkmate.
Naelor didn't speak for 3 full minutes.
The only sound in the massive, granite-walled office was the frantic rustle of turning pages. His pale amber eyes darted across the handwritten formulas, tracing the genetic crossing diagrams between ancient Dwarven mountain grains and Elven river grasses.
"This... this is impossible," Naelor whispered, his voice trembling as he traced the root architecture diagrams for the Stone Root potato.
"Dwarven agronomists spent 4 centuries trying to engineer a tuber that could survive high-altitude permafrost without rotting. You... you bypassed the seasonal dormancy suppression entirely. Double yield? Half the maturation cycle? And it grows in alkaline gravel?!"
I twirled a stray thread on my cuff, completely unfazed.
"Ancient Dwarven farmers were brilliant engineers, but they lacked basic cellular genetic theory," I said casually. "They tried to force magic into the skin rather than editing the cap-binding protein markers. Fix the transpiration rate, and potatoes will happily grow in frozen gravel."
Naelor snapped the page over, his breath hitching as he landed on the Iron Stalk wheat schematics.
"And this wheat... Triticum Aeternum. How on earth did you achieve a C4 photosynthetic pathway in a baseline C3 grain?!"
"Simple gene insertion," I replied with a shrug.
"I borrowed the carbon-fixation enzymes from highland maize. Standard wheat chokes and bleeds water when temperatures climb in midsummer. By forcing the bundle-sheath cells to concentrate carbon dioxide, the plant fixes carbon twice as fast, retains 40% more moisture, and packs double the nutrient density into every grain head."
Naelor abruptly pushed his chair back, the heavy petrified oak screeching against the polished stone as he shot to his feet.
He stared across the desk at me, his gaunt, aristocratic face completely pale, his hands shaking as he gripped the edges of my notebook.
"Who are you truly!?" Naelor demanded, his deep voice cracking with raw, unadulterated awe.
"Are you a high elf in disguise who has roamed this world for thousands of years? An arch-scholar from the sunken academies of the Nether Realm? A master agronomist of the Great Dwarven Bastions? In the 80 years I have spent governing the granaries of Sylvaris, I have never laid eyes on agricultural genius of this magnitude!"
I leaned back into the leather chair, waving a hand with a lazy grin.
"You flatter me, sir. Honestly, you're the person who deserves all the praise. Long before I walked through that iron gate, you were already feeding the destitute at low rates and quietly funding disaster relief out of your own pocket. I came here today because you're the only monopoly leader on this continent I can actually trust with this."
Naelor slowly lowered himself back into his seat, exhaling a shuddering breath as he smoothed down his golden-embroidered waistcoat.
"The Central Granary Exchange controls the food supply for Sylvaris and 6 satellite towns," I said, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees.
"A combined population of roughly 2 million citizens. Can you tell me your annual revenue, Naelor? We're about to become business partners, so there shouldn't be any secrets between us."
Naelor pulled a thick leather accounting register toward himself, though he didn't need to look at the numbers. He knew them by heart.
"Our gross annual revenue fluctuates around 5 million gold coins," Naelor said quietly.
"Our net profit margin sits near 20%. That leaves us with roughly 1 million gold coins in annual profit."
"And that 1 million gets chewed up instantly, doesn't it?" I pointed out, arching an eyebrow.
"Cold-stasis enchantments, repairing draft wagons, replacing silo insulation, compensating contract farmers after severe frost, and buying off bandit guilds on the mountain roads. Your actual free cash flow is razor-thin."
Naelor's jaw tightened.
"Yes. Marginally, we spend almost everything we earn just to keep the supply chain from collapsing."
"Which is why you need to turn the page." I said with a smile.
Naelor turned the parchment.
His eyes scanned my financial projections, his pupils dilating once more.
"Your current agricultural infrastructure feeds 2 million people at capacity," I explained cleanly.
"With Iron Stalk wheat, Eternal Tide rice, and Stone Root potatoes, your physical crop yield doubles while input costs drop by 35%. That raises your regional caloric capacity from 2 million to 4 million people overnight. New trade corridors open up. You can export surplus flour and grain to the southern duchies, the western kingdoms, and across the eastern sea. Your projected annual revenue will increase by at least 2.5 million gold coins."
Naelor swallowed hard, looking up from the figures.
"This is... civilizational transformation," Naelor murmured, his voice hushed.
"What do you want in advance for this, Kaiser Everhart? A discovery of this magnitude commands an astronomical price."
I leaned back, resting my chin on my palm.
"Standard market valuation for proprietary seed monopolies usually demands 30% of total revenue. That comes out to roughly 1.5 million gold coins per year.
Or about 125,000 gold coins per month." Naelor's breath caught in his throat as he said it.
1.5 million gold per year!?
125,000 gold coins every single month... Bro I would've be WAYYY TOO RICH!
Once I am rich I can't make homeless jokes, Lucas gonna beat me in humor!
"Woah, woah, calm down," I chuckled, raising both hands to wave off his panic.
"Back off the maths, Naelor. I don't actually need that much money. In return for the seeds and formulas, you can keep 99% of my calculated royalty share. Just pay me 1% of that monthly income this month, and I'll be completely satisfied."
Naelor blinked, thoroughly bewildered.
"You mean... you only want 1,250 gold coins?"
"Yeah. Exactly 1,250 gold coins," I said, nodding comfortably. "I have a specific target in mind for this month, and 1,250 gold hits the mark. That's all the cash I need right now."
"Then... what do we do with the rest of your revenue share?" Naelor asked, leaning across the desk in sheer disbelief.
"What happens to the remaining 1.49 million gold per year?!"
I tapped my finger against the bottom corner of the notebook.
"Turn to the final section, Naelor. I have 7 demands. I want you to sign them and implement them immediately. And not just here in Sylvaris—I want you to coordinate with the other 14 regional grain monopolies across Celestine and enforce these conditions continent-wide to systematically cure hunger."
Naelor frowned, shaking his head.
"Coordinate with the other 14 monopolies? Kaiser, the Western Granary League and the Southern Agricultural Cartels are notoriously cutthroat. They would never agree to external demands—"
"They will beg to agree," I cut him off with a cool grin.
"Because I didn't just engineer wheat, rice, and potatoes. Flip the leaf."
Naelor turned the page.
His eyes widened until I thought they might pop out of his skull.
"Turnips, carrots, barley, rye, oats, pickled cabbage, lentils, dried beans, and chickpeas," I listed off with casual satisfaction.
"Every staple crop grown in every province of Celestine, re-engineered for double yield, disease immunity, and rapid harvest. You offer the other 14 monopolies exclusive regional sub-licenses for their territories. Their profit margins will explode by 200%. But to receive the seeds, every single monopoly must sign and uphold my 7 Demands. If they break a single rule, their crops undergo programmed genetic collapse after 1 harvest."
Naelor stared at me as if I were a god who had descended from the heavens to rewrite the laws of nature.
He slowly lowered his gaze to the parchment, reading the 1st condition aloud:
"Demand 1: Every grain monopoly must distribute a minimum of 10% of total production free of charge to the destitute, homeless, and unemployed in their region."
"Hunger is not caused by a lack of food," I said, my tone turning steady and serious.
"It is caused by a lack of access to food. Celestine produces more than enough grain to feed every living soul on this continent, but distribution is choked by profit-hoarding merchant boards."
Naelor nodded slowly, his amber eyes shining with deep understanding.
"By establishing a mandatory 10% free distribution floor, you create a guaranteed caloric baseline independent of purchasing power... genuine food sovereignty. The needy receive nutritious, culturally appropriate sustenance without having to beg."
I snapped my fingers.
"Exactly. Demand 2: Every monopoly must hire a minimum of 5% of their regional unemployed population for agricultural labor, milling, and transport, with full on-the-job training provided."
"Unemployment and starvation are 2 sides of the exact same coin," Naelor agreed softly.
"Give a starving man work, and he feeds his family with dignity."
"Demand 3: Monopolies must reinvest 15% of annual profits into local infrastructure—community flour mills, bakeries, and municipal grain silos—ensuring wealth stays inside the farming districts instead of fleeing to noble bank vaults," I continued.
"And Demand 4: Monopolies must fund free vocational academies in farming, food processing, and tradecraft for the impoverished, open to all races without discrimination."
Naelor's finger hovered over the 5th clause on the page. His breath grew unsteady, his throat bobbing as he read the title.
"Demand 5: Mandatory Child Nutrition Programs..."
"Special protection for children across Celestine," I said, my voice dropping to a quiet, uncompromising cadence.
"Every single monopoly must establish permanent, fully funded nutrition centers in schools, orphanages, and community shelters. Daily hot meals provided unconditionally to every child, regardless of race, bloodline, or status."
"Absolutely zero children will starve in my world." I said softly.
Naelor's hands tightened on the desk. A distant, painful shadow crossed his ancient features.
"During the Asura Crisis..." Naelor whispered, his voice thick with raw memory. "I was just a young boy. I watched hundreds of children wither away from malnutrition. A child cannot work. A child cannot buy grain. A child cannot advocate for their own survival. When a child starves, their body cannot grow, their mind cannot learn, and their future is stolen before it even begins."
"I know, Naelor," I said gently. "I've read the historical archives on the Asura and Celestine famine. I know what you survived."
"That's why I know you're the right person to break the intergenerational cycle of poverty."
I leaned forward, tapping the desk with my knuckle.
"And speaking of protecting children... I want an immediate activation of Demand 6 right now."
Naelor blinked, looking up.
"Demand 6?"
"Immediate, unconditional aid to begging children. Zero bureaucratic delays," I said cleanly.
"Call your perimeter guard, Jonathan, into this office right now."
Naelor didn't ask questions. He reached over and rang the brass bell on his desk.
Within 10 seconds, the office door clicked open. Jonathan marched inside, his iron patrol cap tucked under his arm, saluting crisply.
"You summoned me, Master Naelor?!"
I pointed my index finger directly at Jonathan's nose.
"That guy kicked a starving, 7-year-old demon girl in the stomach outside your front gate 30 minutes ago. Which violates Demand 6 and Demand 5."
"So I might just take my notebook and walk out the door."
Naelor's expression darkened to pure thunder.
He rose from his desk like an enraged titan, his amber eyes blazing with fury.
"What did you do, Jonathan?!"
Jonathan turned stark white, stammering frantically.
"M-Master Naelor! It was just some dirty beggar demon loitering outside the gates—"
"That is still a child, you idiot!" I snapped, my eyes narrowing into razor slits.
"We do not wait for paperwork when a child is starving!" Naelor roared, slamming his palm onto the petrified oak with a sound like a thunderclap.
"Jonathan, you will march down to the central kitchens this instant! Tell the executive chef to prepare a piping-hot, nutritious feast—roasted meat, seasoned rice, steamed peas, lentils, and fresh sandwitches! You will carry that food out to that girl yourself!"
Jonathan trembled, his knees knocking together in terror.
"Y-Yes, Master Naelor!"
"And that is not all," Naelor barked, his voice echoing off the vaulted granite.
"Ummm, more, can you tell him to take her shopping for new clothes? Especially her apple scent shampoo." I added.
"You will escort her to the commercial quarter. You will buy her warm winter clothes, the exact shampoo she requests, luxury soap, and secure her a private bath at the washhouse! You will pay for every single copper out of your own personal wages! You will sit beside her and watch her eat until she is completely full! And only when she is smiling will you return to this room!" Naelor commanded.
"Demand 7 is simple," I added casually, leaning back into my chair. "Monthly audited transparency reports of all grain reserves and distribution figures to guarantee accountability. Now go, Johnny boy. Your clock is ticking."
Jonathan looked like he was about to faint, bowing frantically before sprinting out of the office at full speed.
Naelor exhaled heavily, running a slender hand through his silver-threaded hair before looking down at the notebook.
"May I take this notebook to the study while Jonathan carries out his orders? I must review every equation in detail."
"Go right ahead," I said with a relaxed wave.
Naelor grabbed the notebook, bowing deeply before rushing toward his private research annex.
Just as he reached the door, I called out:
"Yo, Naelor! Can you turn the TV on before you go? I'm kind of bored."
Naelor paused, blinking in mild surprise before grabbing a crystal remote from the side table and clicking it toward the enchanted display mounted on the wall.
"Of course. Take your leisure, Kaiser."
The high elf vanished down the hall.
The magical display flickered to life with vibrant colors and clear audio.
Yo! I haven't watched television in ages!
Let's see what broadcast channels they have running in Sylvaris tonight. I wonder if they still broadcast that ancient cartoon I used to watch back during the Asura days...
I flipped through 3 mana-signal channels until my eyes lit up with pure joy.
Oh yo! They actually have Tom and Jam!
On the screen, a goofy grey cat was furiously sprinting with a frying pan, chasing a clever brown rat across a kitchen floor.
I burst out laughing, kicking my feet up onto the leather ottoman.
"Hahaha! Look at that fool run! Classic!"
I leaned back with my hands behind my head, completely engrossed in slapstick comedy, enjoying 1 full hour of pure, peaceful relaxation.
An hour later, the heavy oak doors opened.
Naelor walked back inside, holding the open notebook, followed by a thoroughly exhausted, sweat-drenched Jonathan who looked like he had run a marathon through the snow.
"She has been bathed, clothed, and fed a full banquet," Naelor reported, his voice filled with deep satisfaction.
"And emergency flour rations have been dispatched across the Lower District."
"Thank you, Naelor," I said, turning off the display and swinging my legs down. "With all due respect, you did the right thing."
I slid the formal partnership contract across the desk.
"Here's the agreement. Sign right here."
Naelor didn't even hesitate. He took his quill and signed his name in sweeping, elegant Elven script across the parchment.
He set down the quill, his gaze locking onto mine with profound, searching intensity.
"Kaiser... if you replicate this framework across all 15 regional monopolies, your baseline royalties would exceed 45 million gold coins per year. You could sit in absolute luxury as the wealthiest sovereign on this continent for the rest of your life. Why would you give away 44 million gold just to feed strangers and build schools, orphanages, or shelters?"
I stood up, adjusting the cuffs of my black suit, and offered him a warm, quiet smile.
"Because that's who I am. I don't care about luxury or greed while children sit alone in the snow, crying in hunger. That's not the kind of world she would have wanted. So I don't want it either."
Naelor stared at me in stunned silence.
Then a rich, booming laugh broke from his chest.
"Hahaha! Throughout my 3 centuries of life, I have never met a soul like you. You, Kaiser Everhart, are an extraordinary human being."
"You're not so bad yourself, Naelor," I replied with a wink. "I hope we get along."
Naelor paused, suddenly glancing at the pages.
"Wait... you didn't include the final genetic activation catalyst for the winter crops."
"Oh, my bad," I chuckled. "Remember that pink plush bunny the little girl is holding outside? The micro-scroll formulas are stitched into the inner lining behind its bow tie. Jonathan, go gently retrieve the scrolls and hand the plushie right back to her."
Jonathan scurried out and returned 2 minutes later, handing Naelor 3 tiny enchanted parchment scrolls.
Naelor unfurled the 1st scroll, his eyes scanning the intricate runes before he let out a dazed chuckle.
"Unbelievable. You truly cannot be normal."
"I'm very normal," I laughed. Then my expression cooled as I glanced at Jonathan.
"Anyways, fire this Jonathan guy. He kicked a child. I want him off the payroll permanently."
Jonathan's jaw dropped in sheer outrage.
"What?! Master Naelor, are you serious?! You're going to fire me over a random, filthy demon?!"
I turned around slowly, my eyes locking onto his with an icy, terrifying chill that made the air in the room drop 10 degrees.
"It doesn't matter what race she is," I said, my voice dead and lethal. "You never kick a child. Ever."
"Our founding charter explicitly states that any child seeking aid at our gates must be fed," Naelor said, his voice cold as winter granite.
"You are dismissed, Jonathan. Clean out your locker and do not return tomorrow."
Jonathan stood frozen, clutching his head in horror as 2 guards escorted him out of the room.
I bid Naelor farewell, pocketed my signed contract and my pouch of 1,250 gold coins, and walked down the spiral staircase and out through the heavy iron gates.
Sitting on the dry stone steps by the perimeter lanterns was Lily.
She looked completely transformed.
Her messy hair was washed, dried, and combed, soft silver-white locks framing her cute little face, smelling like sweet, crisp apples. Her little black horns were polished and clean. She wore a lovely sleeveless white dress with delicate black trim, warm leggings, and sturdy little brown boots. In her arms, she clutched the fluffy pink bunny doll tightly against her chest.
The moment her purple eyes spotted me, her face lit up like a festival lantern.
"K-Kai! Kai!" she cried out, scrambling to her feet and running toward me.
She stopped right in front of me, bouncing on her heels, her cheeks flushed with pure excitement.
"That mister came out and took me shopping! He bought me this pretty new dress, apple-scented shampoo, let me take a hot shower, and gave me a mountain of food! Roasted chicken, steamed peas, lentils, and a giant bowl of warm rice!"
I smiled warmly, crouching down to pat her clean, fragrant hair.
"Glad to hear it. Is it alright if you come stay with me for a while, Lily? It's way better than a cardboard box, I promise."
Lily's face turned completely crimson, tears of relief welling up in her big purple eyes.
"R-Really...? E-Even though I'm a demon... you'll let me stay with you...?"
"It doesn't matter to me if you're a demon, Lily," I said gently, looking straight into her eyes.
"And it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. As long as I'm doing the right thing, that's all that matters to me. So come along, please."
Her cheeks flushed so bright she looked like a ripe strawberry, furiously waving her tiny hands.
"P-Please don't say please! I-I should be the person thanking you forever!"
We stepped out through the main gates into the chilly evening streets.
Achoo!
I sneezed hard into my sleeve, groaning inwardly.
Dang it, I really need to buy some cold medicine.
Lily was walking beside me, peeking up at my face every 2 seconds, her cheeks glowing red.
"Something wrong, Lily?"
She fidgeted with the lace of her white dress, her little boots tapping nervously on the cobblestones.
"C-Can you... c-can you hold my hand so I don't get lost...?"
I blinked down at her.
"Huh? You want me to hold your hand?"
"Y-Yeah..." Lily whispered, stuttering furiously as she hid her face behind her bunny's ears. "I-I'm really scared... I-I've never worn a dress this pretty before... a-and it's all so new... a-and I don't know where we're going... what if I get lost in the dark...?"
I let out a soft chuckle, extending my right hand toward her.
"Sure. Give me your hand."
"I've got you."
Lily's eyes sparkled. She eagerly reached out, wrapping both of her tiny, warm hands around my fingers, holding on tight as she happily skipped beside me.
I looked down at her smiling face as we walked through the lantern-lit streets of Sylvaris.
She's an orphan.
Her mother isn't coming back, and there isn't a proper orphanage anywhere in this district. Until my long-term plans are fully established, I'll take care of her just like I look after Ami and Bibi.
Still... I'm way too lazy to cook dinner tonight, and I refuse to waste money on takeout. Guess I'll just eat that leftover sandwich I made 2 days ago and wash it down with some luxurious, free tap water in my room. Sweet and yummy tap water... that's all a man truly needs.
Oh man, I can't wait.
I took a deep breath of the crisp winter air, looking up at the vast canopy of glittering stars above the rooftops of Sylvaris.
I hope you're watching, Elfie.
I'm going to make this world gentler. Just like you once wanted.