Far East Maritime Province Special Tourism Zone Development Project (1) ****
Clatter!
Laura lifted the teacup, which had grown cold, and set it down.
It was a meaningless gesture.
A mountain of documents awaiting approval was placed before her, but not a single page entered her eyes.
Her mind was completely filled with the absurd plan that man had rambled on about.
'I'm going to build a casino. The biggest, most glamorous, and safest casino in the world.'
'We'll build the finest accommodations for the noble sirs to stay comfortably, and we'll completely overhaul the useless beach and lay down white sand.'
'We'll hold spectacular shows every night. Rich bastards hate being bored the most. I know this well because I'm royalty. And their wives or lovers will love useless shopping, so we'll hold a classy auction too.'
Accommodation, recreation, entertainment, shopping, and socializing.
It was a grand blueprint where everything was intertwined.
'The ones who truly win at the gambling table aren't the guys who get lucky, win a hand or two, and walk away.'
'It's always the ones running the game who win.'
'Because the house never loses.'
The reason why the local nobles yearned for the capital so much.
The glamorous culture, the endless amusement, and the specialness of it not being something anyone could enjoy.
What if, at the eastern edge of the empire, in this most distant and abandoned land, one could enjoy all of that, no, even more than that?
What if one didn't have to go all the way to the capital?
The competitiveness was sufficient.
No, it was more than enough.
This business was an opportunity.
An opportunity for the Valeriano Merchant Guild to leap to a higher place.
But....
The thing that churned in her mind the most from the memory of that day was his reaction when she apologized for the doubt and contempt she had thrown at him in her hasty judgment, before hearing all of his plans.
It was a clear act of disrespect.
Other nobles would have rightfully used that disrespect as a pretext to berate her and revise the contract to be more favorable to themselves, or would have tried to drag the young and beautiful her into their bedroom.
But Mikhail didn't even scold her, and just laughed it off as if it were a bother.
As that moment came to mind, Laura clenched her fists without realizing it.
An irritation that went beyond simple shame, and an incomprehensible sense of humiliation.
Laura Valeriano.
Though her family had fallen, she was the descendant of the prestigious Valeriano family of the Republic Federation.
Moreover, due to her beautiful appearance and business acumen, no one dared to disregard her.
Especially since the success with Mikhail.
However, Grand Duke Mikhail seemed to see her as nothing more than a sharp knife.
A tool that was sharp, trustworthy, and above all, well-designed.
Knock, knock.
"!"
At the sudden knocking sound, Laura flinched her shoulders without meaning to.
She cleared her throat once and answered in her usual cold voice.
"Come in."
Kkiiik—
The door opened cautiously, and a middle-aged man entered the room.
It was Tonio, an executive of the merchant guild.
One of the few who had survived without being purged from among her father's old retainers.
He was terribly afraid of Laura.
It was only natural.
All those who were purged had been kicked out after becoming penniless.
"Um, Guildmaster."
Tonio, glancing at Laura's expression, held out a bundle of documents.
"This is the draft of the development project report to be sent to the capital. For your approval...."
"...."
Laura stared at Tonio without a word.
She was displeased.
The reason was unknown.
She was simply annoyed by the fact that this time, while she was lost in her own thoughts, had been interrupted.
'No, that's not it.'
She was confused.
An unknown emotion swirled inside her chest.
"Leave it there and get out."
"Ah, yes, yes! I understand!"
Tonio bowed as if he had been waiting for it and almost fled out of the office.
Kwang!
The door closed, and perfect silence returned once again.
The merchant guild was now entirely hers.
No one could challenge her decisions.
But for some reason, her heart was not at ease in the slightest.
'....'
Thump, thump, thump.
For some reason, the sound of her own heart, beating wildly, was particularly grating.
***
Tumble-Tumble-!
Mikhail was thrashing about meaninglessly on the long sofa in his office.
Warm sunlight came through the window, illuminating his silver hair and dyeing the shimmering dust on the floor gold.
It was a leisurely afternoon.
So leisurely that he was getting fidgety.
'Ah, I'm bored.'
There was nothing to do.
The foundation for the 'comfortable and cozy life' that had been his life's goal had already been laid.
There was more than enough delicious alcohol, and Laura was making money for him.
All that was left was to build his own utopia with that money.
But even that, he had only roughly sketched out the framework and thrown it to Laura and Boris.
He detested complicated and bothersome procedures like blueprints and permits.
Knock, knock!
"Your Highness, it is Boris."
"Come in."
Mikhail found it too bothersome to even sit up, so he answered while lying down.
With a 'kkiiik' sound, the door opened, and Boris, with his ever-erect posture, came inside.
In his hand was a rather thick parchment document, stamped with the imperial seal.
"A letter has arrived from the capital."
"Yeah? What is it."
"It is the permit for the 'Far East Maritime Province Special Tourism Zone Development' that Your Highness requested."
"…Already?"
Mikhail shot up his upper body without realizing it.
His eyes widened.
No matter what, this was too fast.
Going through all sorts of committees, feasibility studies, and even budget deliberations.
If this were 21st-century South Korea, it would have been a massive project that would have taken several years.
But the permit was granted in just a little over a month?
"This quickly?"
"Yes, Your Highness. I also found it hard to believe and checked several times, but it is correct."
Boris politely handed the document to Mikhail.
Mikhail took the document.
An ornate ribbon, and a red wax seal with a clearly stamped double-headed eagle crest.
It was undoubtedly an official document of the empire.
"..."
He looked down at the document silently for a moment, then soon let out a small laugh.
Indeed, who would dare to put the brakes on a project that a member of the royal family was personally involved in?
There wouldn't be a single bureaucrat with the guts to stamp a 'rejected' seal, if only because they wouldn't want to take responsibility.
'Wow, this is really great.'
Mikhail was genuinely impressed.
Democracy? Voting? Public hearings?
None of it was needed.
His status was simply that of a gangster.
'Long live the Empire! Long live His Majesty the Emperor! The class system is the best!'
He cheered inwardly, a satisfied smile on his face.
Now, truly, all preparations were complete.
All that was left was to create his own paradise.
"So, do we just need to gather the workers and start digging now?"
"…Your Highness."
But Boris's expression was dark.
He opened his mouth with a troubled face, like a university student facing a group project.
"There is a problem."
"A problem?"
"Yes. It is a chronic problem of the Far East Maritime Province… but the manpower is severely lacking."
"Manpower?"
"Yes. As you know, this is the most barren frontier of the empire. Even criminals and debtors, now that the resettlement benefits are gone, do not usually come to this land unless they have no other choice."
Boris let out a sigh.
"To proceed with such a large-scale construction, the labor force is absolutely insufficient."
"Hmm."
Mikhail rested his chin on his hand and was lost in thought for a moment.
It was certainly a problem.
But it wasn't a problem that couldn't be solved.
'Is there anything that can't be done with money?'
He came to a very simple and clear conclusion.
"It's simple."
"Pardon?"
"We can just buy them with money."
Mikhail said it as if it were obvious, like saying 'one plus one equals two'.
"Advertise that we'll pay about 30 percent more than the current wages, and provide full room and board. Let's see… since it's a construction site, there will be guys who get hurt while working, so have doctors or priests on standby. They'll work better if you give them time to eat, right? Guarantee a lunch break."
"Your, Your Highness! If we do that, the budget will…!"
Boris shouted in alarm.
There was no place even in the capital that offered such exceptional treatment.
"'Mikhail' has made so much money, we should have some compassion for our people as royalty."
Mikhail laughed as if he found his own joke amusing.
"It's better to spend a bit more money and finish it quickly than to drag out the construction period because we can't find people. I hate waiting. That way, we'll attract investors more easily, won't we?"
"..."
Boris was at a loss for words.
He wasn't wrong.
No, it was an extremely rational and efficient judgment.
It was just that the idea was so far beyond common sense.
'Ah.'
Mikhail snapped his fingers, as if he had just remembered something.
"Come to think of it, it's not just workers we need. We're short on managers too."
He looked at Boris.
"Our own officials and the manpower from the Valeriano Merchant Guild won't be nearly enough. While we're at it, we should also request a dispatch of personnel from the capital."
"Th-Then how many people should we request, Your Highness?"
Boris's voice was trembling.
The matter was getting bigger and bigger.
He felt the weight of responsibility crushing his shoulders increasing exponentially.
Because he was also bearing the responsibility of the noble His Highness the Grand Duke.
Mikhail lay down on the sofa again and waved his hand dismissively, as if it were a bother.
"How would I know something like that?"
He yawned long.
"You take care of that. Hound the officials below you, figure out the number of people needed, and bring me some nicely prepared documents. I'll stamp it for you."
"…"
"I'm going to take a nap. Get out."
Just as the business permit application had been processed in an instant, the dispatch of personnel would surely happen in an instant as well.
'They'll surely send competent talents, right?'
Truly, long live the empire.
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