So, how was our friend Leo doing these days?
He had somehow become quite popular. Specifically, with middle-aged men!
With the support of Claire—or rather, Lady Claire—I was holding a remote meeting with the President of the Empire Trading Company.
The President was a Marquis. He wasn't just some high-ranking noble; he was a figure so far "above the clouds" that I never should have crossed paths with him in my life. You might think, "Wait, aren't you from a Marquis House too?" but we were in different leagues entirely.
He was a monster who had survived for generations without being crushed by the Duke Association. His sheer competence was beyond imagination. He’d even absorbed companies related to the Duke Association into his own firm just to protect the employees' jobs.
Usually, those at the bottom were the ones left holding the bag, but he made sure that barely happened. Those caught in illegal activities were arrested, of course, but the collateral damage to the rest was minimal.
For employees of small businesses that didn't make the cut, the military was always an option. Thanks to the Zork War, the military was suffering from a severe and chronic manpower shortage.
Between that and the option of relocating to the countryside, jobs were everywhere. The unemployment rate wasn't even being reported anymore. The last time I’d seen a report on it was a year ago...
The only ones who really got screwed were the people who held stocks in the Duke Association-affiliated firms. Even then, the damage to banks and insurance companies that managed those stocks was limited because of the mergers. The funds were mostly fine, too—he’d released news flashes about the acquisitions early enough for them to react!
As for the individual shareholders... well, there was no saving them. People who treated the market like a casino or panicked and sold at a loss were beyond help. Legally, nothing could be done. The Empire was, after all, a nation ruled by law.
I felt a bit bad about staging a de facto revolution. Even if we were technically on the government's side, we had completely purged the group that used the Imperial Family as a shield to do whatever they wanted.
So, for better or worse, I was currently in the middle of taking responsibility for turning the economy upside down.
"Good morning! I look forward to working with you today!"
It wasn't actually morning, but I gave an energetic "Good morning!" anyway. It was a common habit in occupations with irregular working hours. I wondered if it was the same for trading companies.
Technically, as an Archduke, I held a higher status and shouldn't have been the one to greet a Marquis first, but I didn't care about that. I was just the son of an Agricultural Cooperative Association President who happened to have the title of Marquis. It was fine. The one with real authority was my wifey. I was content just being the wall that took the hits for her.
"Good morning. I look forward to working with you as well."
The President smiled as he replied. He seemed to have grown used to my antics. At first, he used to get quite flustered by my lack of etiquette.
He sent over a report analyzing the materials I’d provided and shared some mid-to-long-term management guidelines. I’d already reviewed the final draft, so I pressed the [Approve] button with my electronic seal.
"I must say... I never imagined these loss-leading products we made solely to preserve tradition would sell so well," he remarked.
"Right?"
Cinnamon Sweets and Licorice Sweets were already selling with enough momentum to practically wipe out the illicit drug market. Then there were the Strong Mint Sweets, radishes, and Pickled Plums. Anything with a sharp, stimulating flavor was flying off the shelves. They were selling so well that the Trading Company had to hold emergency strategy meetings just to keep up.
"Even the spicy-flavored Fish Sauce Chips—which are unpopular in the Empire—are a hit. They're so popular that people are practically fighting over them."
"I guess we really do have to turn the Proone holy city into farmland..."
We’d finished swapping out the soil that had been contaminated by the waste produced by the Proone. That dirt was being sent off for research. It wasn't uncommon to find microorganisms in places like that that could be used to create useful medicines, so we stored and studied it.
Honestly, I’d assumed that no matter how many Gates we had or how safe travel became, no one would actually want to come to outer space. I just wanted to go home, after all. But the world was full of surprises.
Daredevil trading company employees, reckless researchers, and private organizations with absolutely zero sense of safety were arriving in droves. Whenever we opened applications for volunteers, the lottery slots were filled the moment the recruitment started. There were even groups claiming, "We want to educate the children of the Proone."
Even the Imperial Government was stuck in a state of "...What do we do?" and couldn't make progress on that front. Trying to get them to stop eating meat while partially maintaining the Proone Faith was a total Impossible Game. For now, we put those requests on hold.
That said, encouraging herbivory and introducing Algae Powder had reportedly caused the death rate to plummet. Their previous diet really had been unsustainable.
I was still rejecting any inquiries about "sightseeing." I could only see a future filled with trouble between tourists and Latarnians. Latarnia was a nation founded by loan sharks, yet they allowed gambling! People would be stripped of everything they owned in a heartbeat.
However, because Latarnians valued promises to an extreme degree, match-fixing was strictly illegal. The maximum penalty was death. There had even been a news report about people being executed for fixing a race involving motorcycle-like vehicles. Terrifying!
Furthermore, when I asked about the specs for their equivalent of slot machines, the complexity gave me a headache. In short, their philosophy was "Death to all fraudsters."
It made me realize I couldn't put any Probability Machines in our bowling alley. If the prize game rewards seemed a bit lackluster or focused too much on food, it was because of that... but the response was surprisingly positive. People were saying, "As expected of the Empire. They get it."
The Medal Games passed inspection as they were. Since you couldn't exchange the medals for cash, it was fine. Apparently, they were seen as having an educational effect, showing the players "what a world without promises is like."
That was one concept I still couldn't wrap my head around. It wasn't that I thought it was wrong or unforgivable; it was just the kind of thing that left me staring blankly like a cat in space.
Thus, there were endless things to discuss. The President also seemed to be living a fulfilling life, his face looking healthier by the day. I, on the other hand, was a complete amateur. Usually, you’d need to graduate from a top university in the Imperial Capital and spend decades working in various regions before you could grasp the big picture of this kind of work. There was no way I could understand it all on my own!
Without Lady Claire, I would have been nothing more than a bug. I’d assumed they were mocking my ignorance behind my back, but then Claire told me otherwise.
"He praised you," she said. "He said, 'To have such insight at such a young age... I am truly impressed.'"
I didn't get it. I didn't get any of it. I couldn't even tell how much of that was just lip service.
Anyway, while I was busy thinking about how peaceful things had been lately—no combat, and both the pirates and Ghouls were staying quiet—a message arrived from Latarnia.
It was a detailed data file investigating the truth behind that Assassination Incident. The sheer file size, which I wouldn't even dream of trying to print, sent me into a state of total panic. The ambassador was sweating like a waterfall, so I found myself blurting out the first thing that came to mind.
"There’s no way I can finish reading all of this right now. Can we discuss this at a later meeting?"
"Y-Yes!!! Of course!"
I really didn't want to read it. But I had to at least get through the summary. The sheer thickness of the digital report was a testament to the terrifying nature of a Civilization that Doesn't Break Promises. They’d probably documented every single thing they found out.
It wasn't that I doubted them, and they didn't have any ill will. They were just... incredibly serious.