After breakfast, there was a knock on my door. Six soldiers entered, each pair carrying a chest, three in total. Then Raymond walked in.
"Remy kept his word. Payment delivered. Each chest holds 1,000 solmar."
That made 3,000 solmar in total.
Was this our yearly revenue?
"Maybe he subtracted the payments made during winter from this year's total. Now's not the time to get greedy."
Mnex was right. I was now 3,000 solmar richer than the day before. A smile spread across my face as Raymond opened the chests.
All three were filled to the brim with golden solmar coins.
I dipped my hands in, letting my tiny fingers swim through the gold. It was a historically impossible kind of pleasure. In USD, my annual income was exactly 3,750,000.
Three point seven million dollars in a year, just from selling soap and toothbrush kits.
I was a millionaire.
"I'm glad to see you this happy, but... I've got bad news." Raymond's face was dead serious. That meant it was really bad.
What now? Do I have to pay taxes on this? Is the IRS coming for me?
"What happened?" I asked, hugging the chest in front of me.
"Well… how do I put this..." He paused. "It's a big problem."
"Oh no. Are we in debt? Is someone coming to take my solmars? Over my dead body! I'm not sharing… these are mine!" I growled.
"Easy there, Gollum. Let him explain, my preciouusss," Mnex cut in.
"They're outside..." Raymond said, still staring at the chests. He looked deeply conflicted. "There are another 124 just like these. We can't carry them all in here, and it doesn't look like you've got a safe place to store them. Leaving them out in the open... would be risky."
What?
"What?"
124 more chests?
"Did I hear that right? There are 124 more chests outside?"
I tried to grab Raymond by the collar but could only reach the lower part of his tunic.
"Yes. A total of 127 chests. Remy sent exactly 127,000 solmar."
"You idiot. How is that bad news?" I shouted and burst out of the room.
In the mansion's back garden, wagons loaded with chests were lined up. Soldiers, servants, Sir William, and my grandfather were all inspecting them.
"Stop!" I yelled. "Everyone take three steps back and do not touch the chests!"
All eyes turned to me. I was already calculating.
If 1 solmar was roughly $1,250 USD… then 127,000 solmar… how much was that?
Before I could finish the math, Mnex had the answer in 0.1 seconds.
"One hundred fifty eight million, seven hundred fifty thousand dollars."
Silence.
Neither of us said a word. Everyone was staring at me.
I'd never been this rich in any of my lives.
I could barely breathe from the excitement.
Then one terrifying thought hit me.
Just how rich was that bastard Remy?
I motioned for Raymond to come closer. He leaned in, and I grabbed him by the collar.
"Where did Remy get all this solmar from?" I whispered.
"He had the wagons prepared at his own villa. I just escorted them here."
Mnex? Should we pay his villa a little visit tonight?
My legs started to tremble. I had never been this thrilled in my life.
"Not yet," Mnex said. His voice was unusually calm. But I could feel it, the excitement under his stillness. When he got that serious, it meant he was excited too.
"Young Lord," said William, "this amount of solmar… it's three times more than what Count Godfrey collects in taxes in a year."
So even my father earned less than me.
But now wasn't the time to lose myself in excitement.
I needed to think smart.
Make solid plans.
This kind of wealth would've lasted me a lifetime if I were alone, but…
Why settle for this when I could have so much more?
"Sir William, Grandfather, I need to speak with you. Privately. Now."
And with that, I led them to William's office in the administrative wing of the mansion.
I didn't say a word on the way to the room. Even after we sat down, I remained silent, at least on the outside. Inside, Mnex and I were already forming a plan. My grandfather and William were eagerly waiting for me to speak.
"First of all," I began, clearing my throat, "does my family have any debts?"
William stroked his chin, clearly grasping the weight of the question.
"We didn't have any prior debts, but we had to borrow a bit this winter. And considering the land hasn't fully recovered, I can guarantee the debt will grow in the coming years. However..." he paused for a moment, glancing at my grandfather, "there's nothing to worry about anymore. The treasury is fuller than it's ever been. Even if we pay off everything, it'll still be overflowing."
"Oh, Sir William," I said, giving a small smile. "You've got it completely wrong."
I respected his age but greed doesn't suit anyone. Well, except me.
My grandfather burst into laughter.
William turned to me, confused.
"What exactly did I misunderstand, young lord?" he asked, his deep brown eyes searching for the meaning behind my grandfather's reaction.
"That money doesn't belong to my family," I said, leaning back into the chair. "It belongs to me."
William's jaw dropped so wide I could've fit all the chests right in there.
"B-but... but..." he stammered.
"Don't worry, Sir William. Of course I'll share it with my family but there will be conditions," I said calmly.
No one objected. As expected. Then I laid out my terms.
All the chests would be placed in the family treasury, but no one would be allowed to touch them without my permission. The thirty thousand solmar debt my family took on this winter would be paid from that money. The ventures I had already started would be expanded, and the city guards would be responsible for their security. Everything else would be invested to ensure those projects ran smoothly.
No one raised a single objection.
I left the room with Raymond by my side.
My next destination was the carpenter's workshop.
As we left the mansion, Doyle joined us. Together, we made our way to the workshop. My goal was to finish everything before Uncle Philip arrived, so that when he did, I'd be ready.
The workshop from two days ago belonged to Master Rastlin. It was also where I had commissioned the production of our prototype toothbrushes. No one ever wanted to sell their business, and Rastlin was no exception but thanks to Doyle, we had managed to persuade him. Now, I was here to pay my respects… and negotiate terms.
When I arrived at the workshop, I spotted Rastlin. He wasn't exactly old, middle aged perhaps but his hair had already turned white. Not particularly muscular, but not scrawny either. Short hair, sun weathered skin. A man worn by work, not time.
"Master Rastlin!" Doyle called out.
Rastlin turned toward us. The look on his face made it very clear he was not thrilled.
"I saw you," he said calmly, walking toward us with surprising speed. "I was just pretending I didn't."
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Henry Evan Godfre…"
"Yes, yes, I know who you are. Everyone does. Should I bow before you or something? You're taking my shop might as well take my life while you're at it."
What? Either he genuinely didn't care who I was… or he genuinely didn't care who I was.
"Haha, I like this organic lifeform," Mnex chimed in. "Atta boy!"
I took a deep breath. "I understand you're angry, but I can't open a workshop without a proper master. I'm not taking your job, I'm investing in you."
"Much of a muchness."
"Hahahaha," Mnex burst into a laughter loop in my head. Honestly, Rastlin felt like some kind of Mnex Version 0.1, no filter, no patience.
"I have a lot of plans I intend to bring to life," I continued. "Like it or not, you're working with me now."
"…"
He opened his mouth to say something.
"A-a shhhh. Close your mouth and listen, you miserable snowball. If the next word out of your mouth doesn't please me, you'll lose your tongue then your fingers. Feel free to test me."
I signaled to Doyle, who stepped forward. Rastlin instinctively took two steps back.
"Ha-ha, young lord," he said, forcing a strained smile. "Working for you will be an honor."
"I don't know how much you normally make, but I'll pay you twenty four solmars a year. You'll prioritize my orders. Aside from that, I don't care what you do with your own clients. and I don't want a cut."
With that, I turned and walked away.
"Raymond, finish up the paperwork quickly and meet me at Blacksmiths' Alley," I called over my shoulder.
Mnex wouldn't stop laughing. I told myself to stay calm. I did. But somehow… the words that came out weren't the ones I planned.
My next stop was a certain infamous forge on that street.
Tilda's Temper.
A creative name, no doubt and yes, the forge was run by a woman. Not that I have anything against it, it's just... come on, a female blacksmith? That's peak anime energy. I had to see it for myself.
I wasn't sure what I expected when I stepped into Tilda's Temper, but it definitely wasn't a woman beating molten steel like it had personally offended her.
"Tilda!" Doyle called again.
She didn't even glance our way. Still hammering like a female version of Thor, completely in the zone. Her short, dark red hair stuck to her forehead from the heat.
Oh, boy... If you liked athletic women, then Tilda was…
"Ahem. You're still four years old, mini Chucky. These thoughts are highly inappropriate. Come back in fifteen years, maybe we'll consider it then," Mnex cut in.
"This is just how she is," Doyle explained at the exact same time. "She gets completely absorbed in her work. That's why she's considered one of the best blacksmiths in the city among the soldiers."
"TILDA!" Doyle finally roared.
She paused mid swing and turned her head to look over her shoulder.
"Oh! Doyle, hey there," she said casually.
She wore a short, fitted top that left little to the imagination. Her defined abs, toned arms, everything was on full display. My face flushed instantly. Not just from the heat of the forge… right?
"Nope. Not the forge. That's all you, you hormone fueled hobbit." Mnex was absolutely no help.
"You must be the young lord, ai?" she asked, finally addressing me.
"Yes, Master Tilda. I've seen wonderful things about you. I mean, heard. Not seen," I stammered, trying to keep my eyes locked on her face.
"Ai, an honor to meet you too. And just so you know, don't trust everything Doyle says. I've known him since he was waddling around in cloth diapers," she said, giving him a casual smack on the back of the head.
"When I came to serve your father for military training, Tilda had just left the orphanage," Doyle added.
Doyle? You okay? That heat might've fried your brain.
"So you're older than Doyle. Huh. You really don't look it," I said honestly.
She laughed, loud and genuine, and gave Doyle's shoulder a shove.
"I hear you're here to buy my humble little forge, young lord?" she asked once the laughter faded.
"I wouldn't call it a purchase. More like an investment. You're free to take on your own commissions, but my projects take priority, always."
"Oh, that won't be a problem. It's not like I'm drowning in work. Most folks don't want weapons from a woman. If it weren't for the city guards and Doyle, I'd have shut this place down a long time ago." Her voice lost its humor for a moment.
"You won't get that kind of attitude from me. And I can already tell, just by looking around, you're damn good at what you do," I said, taking in the forge with fresh eyes.
It looked like any classic medieval smithy but that wouldn't last. I had plans. Better metals. Modern tools. Reinforced furnaces. Mnex would handle the blueprints, of course.
I explained just enough to get her curious, no more than she needed for now. Right then, Raymond arrived. We went over her new salary, the heavier workload, and the need to hire more workers. She wouldn't be able to handle everything on her own and I didn't care if the new hires were inexperienced. In fact, that was better. They'd learn how to use our custom tools from scratch.
Once everything was settled, I left with a promise to return. For business, obviously.
After that, I dropped by to see Charles.
It was time to expand.
The soap workshop had served us well, but we'd outgrown it. I instructed Charles to purchase several buildings around the existing one. Raymond would handle the budget with him. I told Charles I'd send him a new layout in the next day or two.
Then I hurried back to the mansion.
It was nearly noon and the guest we'd all been waiting for was about to arrive.