Chapter 16
*
Once we'd wrapped up the business talk, the guild master slyly changed the subject.
“Where shall we have lunch?”
I looked at the clock.
It was already lunchtime.
“I see. It's time to eat.”
“Would you like to go to the place you said you enjoyed last time?”
“Hmm…”
A restaurant. Sounds good.
The music was nice, and the food was excellent too.
It said something that even those finicky nobles from Sanctum Hill came down to eat at this restaurant.
But there was one thing that bothered me.
I glanced at Erica.
It was a restaurant that even the nobles of Sanctum Hill visited.
I didn't think this child knew the table manners required at such an upscale restaurant.
If I handed her a knife and told her to cut her meat, she might even hold it backward.
The nobles would point and laugh at Erica, and Erica would sense that something was wrong and leave with nothing but bad memories.
I didn't want this child to experience being intimidated in a place like that.
So I casually asked the guild master about somewhere else.
“Unfortunately, we didn't plan for this today, so we aren't dressed for the dress code. It's a shame, but could we go somewhere else? Somewhere comfortable, if possible.”
The guild master hesitated at my question.
I gave a subtle nod toward Erica.
Gustav looked at Erica with a puzzled expression.
Just then, Erica sniffled and casually wiped her nose on her sleeve.
You can't hide the wildness of Limbus Pit even by dressing her in silk.
Understanding dawned in Gustav's eyes.
“Ah! Haha!”
The guild master slapped his knee.
“As it happens, I've been hooked on buffets lately! There's a wide variety of food, and the atmosphere is relaxed! Would that be all right with you, young master?”
“That sounds good.”
Lunch was decided: a buffet.
Erica tilted her head.
She looked like she sensed something strange, but didn't know exactly what it was.
‘She still doesn't know how people around here talk.’
Well, she could learn slowly.
“Then let's go with that.”
Yeah. She's growing, after all.
Today, just eat as much as you want.
***
The restaurant Julian and his party arrived at was called [Gastro&Gusto].
It was one of the budget buffets the Mercure Merchant Guild had contracted for employee benefits.
Jingle.
As we opened the door at the sound of the bell and stepped inside, Erica stopped in her tracks.
….”
Her jaw dropped as if it were about to come loose.
It was far too vast to be called a restaurant.
It was enormous, magnificent, and hot.
It was quite literally closer to a gigantic factory.
Hiss—hissss—
White steam billowed out from beneath the long rows of brass tables.
Hot-water pipes laid under the floor kept the food warm.
Above them, roasted turkeys and thick steaks, still steaming, were piled up like mountains.
On the other side, refrigerators rumbled as they spewed out waves of cold air.
On mountains of ice that didn't melt even in midsummer, colorful fruits and ice cream were displayed like jewels.
And the employees rushed around frantically, constantly refilling the pots so they wouldn't go empty.
“You mean all of this is for eating?”
Erica muttered blankly.
In the slums, people stabbed one another over a single piece of moldy bread.
Here, they kept the place packed with enough food that no human could finish it in a lifetime, throwing it away once it cooled.
The violence of overwhelming abundance.
The girl was so stunned that she didn't even have time to feel deprived by comparison.
“What are you doing? Why aren't you going in?”
“I can really eat anything I want?”
“Put as much as you want on your plate and eat.”
“Is there a limit on how many times?”
“No.”
“Does the owner here actually intend to make money?”
Julian let out a small laugh at her words.
Did she even know how much admission cost here?
Even if Erica sat here for twenty-four hours, chewing like a cow, it would still be profitable.
“Don't worry about that. Eat as much as you want.”
“Ehehe…”
She was led toward the tables with a silly grin on her face.
Julian held her hand tightly so she wouldn't get lost.
All while forgetting that he himself was only a twelve-year-old boy.
The way he looked after Erica was so much like that of affectionate siblings that it was enough to make the adults watching them smile fondly.
He stopped Erica from rushing off to get food before she even knew where their table was.
Then the group settled into a private room.
“…Teacher.”
“What?”
“Do nobles eat things like this all the time?”
Inside the private room.
Before they went out to get food, Erica asked her question.
Julian didn't answer as he lifted his glass of water.
He merely gave her an ambiguous smile that was neither agreement nor denial.
The truth was that the truly wealthy didn't go to places like buffets.
Not needing table manners, put another way, meant not needing to show off one's refinement.
The true upper class ate multicourse meals at restaurants while confirming their hierarchy among themselves; they generally didn't line up to serve themselves food like this.
A buffet was a restaurant for the middling class—people who were somewhat wealthy by commoner standards, but not even wealthy enough to be considered nouveau riche.
But there was no need to throw cold water on a child who was having fun.
“Don't worry about that. Go get whatever you want to eat.”
“…Really? You won't regret it?”
“Yeah. Eat a lot.”
Erica sprang to her feet.
She couldn't understand why he was being so kind to her.
But could she refuse just because she didn't understand? If this happiness might end at any time, she had to enjoy it as much as possible before it did.
She walked briskly toward the food tables with a plate in hand.
But her resolve looked different to everyone else.
“Haha. That's how children that age ought to be.”
The guild master smiled like a proud father as he watched her back.
Erica had stood up from her seat with a certain determination in her heart.
But to the guild master and Julian, she looked different.
In their eyes, she was merely an immature child who didn't know proper etiquette and had run to get food before the host.
As Erica's guardian, Julian lowered his head slightly toward the guild master.
“I'm sorry. She's still a child who has trouble restraining herself.”
“Not at all. I think it's actually lovely to see.”
The guild master lifted his teacup.
“By the way, young master, I have another piece of good news.”
“What is it?”
“You know the Imperial Board of Commerce will be conducting its rank assessment soon, don't you?”
“Yes. I'm aware.”
The world inside the Brass Walls was finite.
The land, the resources, and the people.
In such a world, free competition inevitably led to monopolies, and monopolies led directly to turmoil within the Walls.
The Board of Commerce had been born from the lessons of a long record of mistakes.
The Board of Commerce's job was simple.
It assessed the size and influence of each merchant guild, assigned it a rank, and imposed taxes and obligations according to that rank.
In return, it provided commensurate benefits and protection.
Those who had more gave more, and those who gave more received more rights.
You could think of it as roughly that kind of system.
“Hehehe….”
The moment he brought up the Board of Commerce, Guild Master Gustav suddenly let out a suspicious laugh.
His face was practically announcing what he was about to say, but Julian pretended not to notice and prompted him to continue.
“But what about the Board of Commerce? Did we perhaps miss a tax payment?”
“Hehe. No.”
“Then did we perhaps violate some imperial prohibition?”
“Nooo~?”
Each time Julian offered a wrong answer, the guild master's smile grew deeper.
Then, just as Julian began to get the impression that the guild master was becoming more and more nouveau riche by the day,
the guild master, who had been drawing out the suspense, finally gave him the answer.
“Apparently, we're likely to be promoted to Rank 2.”
“Ah, I see. Congratulations.”
“It's all thanks to you, young master! It would have been unthinkable without quinine and insulin!”
Despite Julian's dry reaction, Guild Master Gustav flapped both arms extravagantly, his double chin wobbling.
Rank 2 meant becoming a major merchant guild.
It meant operating on a scale that did business across multiple cities, not just one.
A guild that had been on the verge of bankruptcy only a few years ago had become a nationwide major merchant guild.
“Once we succeed with insulin too, we'll be able to lead the pack even among the Rank 2 major guilds!”
The guild master chattered excitedly.
Across from him, Julian calmly applauded.
It wasn't that he wasn't happy.
The Mercure Merchant Guild was Julian's guild too.
He was a director, and he also owned fourteen percent of the shares. (For reference, the guild master owned sixteen percent.)
So inwardly, Julian cheered at the miracle of M-vidia's spectacular rise.
But his expression remained as cold as ever.
He had an image to maintain.
“This is truly wonderful news.”
“It's all thanks to you, Director!”
The guild master suddenly burst into tears and tried to hug Julian.
Julian subtly leaned backward to escape the guild master's clutches.
Fortunately, the table between them blocked the guild master from reaching Julian.
The guild master sat back down awkwardly.
Once he had returned to his seat, he took out a handkerchief, wiped his tears, and said,
“But, you see….”
“?”
“When we get promoted, our taxes will go up too, won't they?”
“….”
“Sob, sob. What is a small businessman like me supposed to live on if this country takes everything?”
Julian stared at him in silence.
He desperately wanted to retort that the man was talking nonsense.
In this world, where everything was stratified, a merchant guild's rising rank was not merely empty prestige.
A guild's rank was a sort of noble title.
When a guild rose in rank, it could gain some of the rights of nobles despite having no noble blood.
A Rank 2 guild was roughly equivalent to a baron or viscount.
In other words, the guild master had now gained the right to enter and leave Sanctum Hill freely without permission.
In the first place, even doubling his taxes was hardly harsh treatment.
Considering the privileges and monopolies granted to Rank 2 guilds, even tripling his taxes would only warrant a performance of weeping.
That was why Julian looked at the crying Guild Master Gustav with a thoroughly unimpressed expression.
No matter how he thought about it, the guild master's nouveau riche image didn't seem to be entirely due to his appearance.
*
Meanwhile, Erica.
She had reached the crossroads of the most important choice of her life.
“Lamb or pork….”
There was a tiny bit of space left at the edge of her plate.
The question was what kind of meat to put there.
At that moment, a voice came from behind her.
“Excuse me, miss.”
When she turned around, an elderly man with white hair was standing there.
A neat black suit. His back was slightly stooped, but even that was eclipsed by the dignity emanating from him.
It was a face she had seen before.
The old man who had seen the young master off at the Sanctum Hill manor.
He was the head butler of the Nihirit family.
“…Huh?”
Erica blinked.
“You're the head butler, right? But why are you here…?”
The old butler bowed with a benevolent smile.
“I couldn't overcome my curiosity about the person the young master had chosen to keep at his side, so this old man took the liberty of paying you a visit.”
“Were you following me?”
“Let us call it guarding you.”
Erica was left speechless.
“I am Wilhelm, the head butler. It is an honor to meet you.”
“No, no. Please don't do that.”
Erica hurriedly waved her hands.
Until a few days ago, Wangcho had been the highest person in her world.
That was the limit of what people living in those dark alleys could imagine.
But with the young master who made even Wangcho seem like ‘nothing,’ followed by the guild master and now the head butler, she couldn't keep her head straight.
“You shouldn't greet me like that. I'm just… just an assistant.”
At her denial, Wilhelm's eyebrow moved ever so slightly.
“If you don't mind my asking, where are you from?”
“…Limbus Pit, Tannery Street.”
Erica answered honestly.
There was no point in hiding it. It would show sooner or later anyway.
Besides, she didn't dare lie in front of such an experienced butler.
But the old butler's reaction was different from what she expected.
“I see.”
Instead, he bowed even more deeply.
“Then all the more reason for me to show you proper respect.”
“…Pardon?”
Erica was bewildered.
The old butler quietly continued.
“Miss, do you know who it was that chose you?”
“Teacher Schnabel… No, the young master.”
“The young master, you say… Haha.”
The butler's gaze turned toward the private room in the distance.
Through the window, Julian could be seen talking with the guild master.
Unlike the nouveau riche guild master, Julian across from him radiated an untouchable dignity even through the window.
“It may be rude to describe that gentleman with the mere word ‘young master.’”
At the old butler's subtle admonishment, Erica closed her mouth.
Her gaze reached Julian beyond the window, his expression impassive as he held his teacup.
He looked like a noble who had been born that way, dealing with the nouveau riche who was chattering excitedly.
“…I know that too.”
Erica lowered her head and mumbled.
“That's why I understand even less. The young master is a genius, isn't he? He's like a wizard who can whip up medicine with a touch, so why did he have to take me of all people…? How could someone like me be allowed to stay by his side…?”
An excessive stroke of luck granted to a slum orphan.
It felt less like a blessing than thin ice that could shatter at any moment.
But the old butler shook his head.
“You are mistaken, miss.”
His voice was low but firm.
“When I said it was rude to call him ‘young master,’ I meant that it is not his bloodline that makes him noble.”
“What?”
“For the same reason, it may also be rude to call him a genius. That word makes it sound as though you are praising him based only on his results, without knowing what efforts he has made behind the scenes.”
The old butler paused and stared at Erica.
Erica nodded blankly.
The old butler gestured for her to follow and slowly walked toward the food tables.
His steps were as natural as if he were taking a stroll.
Erica followed him without realizing it.
“Do you know how many times that gentleman has failed?”
“…No.”
“Of course not. People always see only the finished result. They do not know how much blood and sweat it took to create it.”
The old butler stopped in front of the heated meat section.
He cast a sidelong glance at Erica's plate.
There was still some empty space left.
“Ah, I recommend the lamb. The rosemary aroma here is exquisite. There is no better way to begin eating lamb.”
“Ah… yes.”
Clink. The old butler picked up the silver tongs and placed some meat directly onto Erica's plate.
“…!”
When Erica flusteredly tried to draw back, he continued gently.
“Miss. Would you answer this old man's question?”
He gazed at the steaming steak and spoke as if reciting a verse.
“A noble born with nobility etched into their bloodline.
A genius granted talent by God who changes the world with ease.
And….”
The old butler's gaze slowly settled on Erica.
“A person born with nothing, yet who bears a noble mission alone and walks a thorny path.”
His gaze grew solemn.
“Of these, which do you think is the most radiant title?”
Erica held her breath.
She wanted to answer, but her lips would not easily part.
The butler smiled in satisfaction, as though her reaction itself were the correct answer.
“Then let me ask one final question. If you wished to stand beside such a person, what kind of person do you think you would have to become?”
“….”
Erica's lips moved, but no voice came out.
It wasn't because she didn't know the answer.
It was because she instinctively understood the weight she would have to bear the moment she spoke it aloud.
Perhaps he had read her hesitation.
The old butler's eyes softened.
“You don't have to answer right away. If the clothes are too big, you simply grow until they fit. I can see that you have more than enough potential for that, miss.”
“….”
“Now, shall we go? The meat will get cold.”
As if he had never said anything heavy, the old man turned toward the dessert section with his benevolent smile restored.
Then, as though he had suddenly remembered something, he stopped and whispered softly enough for only Erica to hear.
“By the way, did you know?”
“?”
“This old man once hated nothing in the world more than getting a cricket's hind leg stuck in his teeth while eating a No. 13 budget ration block.”
“Huh?”
A No. 13 budget ration block.
It was a cricket nutrition bar provided to the poor so the city could maintain its minimum labor force.
And the fact that the head butler of Sanctum Hill mentioned it meant…
Erica's eyes went wide.
But the old butler put a finger to his lips, winked, and gestured for silence.
“There is no reason you can't do the same, miss, so hold your head high.”
“…!”
He bowed politely and turned his back to her.
“Please enjoy your meal, miss.”
Erica was left unable to move for quite some time.
In the middle of the buffet's bustling noise.
The plate in her hands felt unbearably heavy.