*
Once the business talk wound down, the guild master quietly changed the subject.
“Where shall we eat?”
I checked the clock.
It was already lunchtime.
“I see. It's time for a meal.”
“How about going to that place you said was good last time, young master?”
“Hmm…”
A restaurant, huh.
The food was excellent, and the music was nice too.
Just the fact that those picky Sanctum Hill nobles came all the way down here to eat at this restaurant said enough.
But there was one thing that bothered me.
I glanced at Eri for a moment.
A restaurant visited even by Sanctum Hill nobles.
I didn't think this kid would know the table manners for a place that fancy.
If I handed her a knife to cut the meat, she might even grip it backwards.
The nobles would point at Eri, and she'd feel something was wrong and leave with nothing but bad memories.
I didn't want her to have that kind of humiliating experience in a place like that.
So I casually asked the guild master about somewhere else.
“Unfortunately, I hadn't prepared for today, so I couldn't meet the dress code. I'm sorry, but could we go somewhere else? Preferably somewhere comfortable.”
At my question, the guild master paused.
I gave Eri a slight glance.
Gustav looked at Eri in puzzlement.
Just then, Eri sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve.
Even silk couldn't hide the wild streak of Limbus Pit.
Gustav's eyes glittered with realization.
“Ah! Hah hah!”
The guild master slapped his knee.
“I've actually been hooked on buffets lately! Lots of variety, and the atmosphere is relaxed! Would that be all right, young master?”
“Sounds good.”
Lunch was decided: buffet.
Eri tilted her head.
She seemed to sense that something was odd, but she couldn't quite tell what.
“She still didn't know how people talked around here.”
Well, she could learn slowly.
“Then let's go with that.”
Yeah. She was still growing.
Today, just eat your fill.
***
The place Julian's party arrived at was a restaurant called [Gastro&Gusto].
It was one of the budget buffets Mercure Merchant Guild had contracted for employee welfare.
Ding.
As the door opened with a chime, Eri's steps came to a halt.
“...”
Her jaw dropped as if it were about to come unhinged.
It was too vast to be called a restaurant.
It was enormous, grand, and hot.
It was, quite literally, closer to a giant factory.
Hiss— shhh—
White steam was pouring out from under the long brass tables.
Hot-water pipes laid into the floor were keeping the food warm.
On top of them were mountains of steaming roast turkey and thick steaks.
On the other side, coolers hummed and released cold air.
On ice mountains that didn't melt even in midsummer, colorful fruits and ice cream were displayed like jewels.
And the staff hurried around, refilling the food so the pots would never run empty.
“This is... all for eating?”
Erica muttered blankly.
In the slums, people drew knives over a single rotten piece of bread.
Here, they were piling up enough food for a human being to eat all their life and still throw away what went cold.
The violence of overwhelming abundance.
The girl was so stunned she didn't even have time to feel deprived.
“What are you doing? Why aren't you coming in?”
“Can I really eat anything?”
“Take as much as you want onto your plate.”
“Is there a limit on how many times I can go?”
“None.”
“Does the owner of this place even want to make money?”
At her words, Julian let out a snort of laughter.
Did she even know how much a single entry fee here cost?
Even if Eri camped out here for twenty-four hours chewing like a cow, they'd still come out ahead.
“Don't worry about that stuff. Eat as much as you want.”
“Ehehehe…”
She was led to the table with a goofy grin.
Julian held her hand tightly so she wouldn't get lost.
He had forgotten that he himself was only twelve.
The way he looked after Erica made them look exactly like a pair of close siblings, enough to bring warm smiles to the adults watching them.
So he even had to stop Erica from heading for the food before she even knew where the table was.
The party settled into a private room.
“...Teacher.”
“What.”
“Do nobles eat this kind of thing all the time?”
Inside the private room.
Before heading out to get the food, Erica asked a question.
Julian lifted his water glass but didn't answer.
He only gave an ambiguous smile that was neither yes nor no.
In truth, real rich people don't come to places like buffets.
The fact that table manners aren't needed means, conversely, that there's no need to show off your refinement.
True high society dines on course meals in restaurants, quietly reaffirming their hierarchy among themselves. They don't line up and serve themselves like this.
Buffets are for the middle class—fairly well-off compared to commoners, but not even rich enough to count as nouveau riche.
But there was no need to pour cold water on an excited child.
“Don't worry about that. Go on and take whatever you want to eat.”
“...Really? You won't regret it?”
“Yeah. Eat as much as you want.”
Eri sprang to her feet.
She couldn't understand why he was being so good to her.
But just because she couldn't understand it didn't mean she should refuse. If happiness might end at any time, she ought to enjoy as much of it as she could before it did.
She trotted off to the food tables with a plate in hand.
But to everyone else, that resolve looked entirely different.
“Heh. That's how they should be at that age.”
The guild master smiled like a doting father at her back.
Erica had risen with her own resolve.
But to the guild master and Julian, it looked different.
All they saw was a reckless child who didn't know etiquette and rushed to get food before the host did.
As Erica's guardian, Julian gave the guild master a slight bow.
“I'm sorry. She's still a child and has trouble with self-control.”
“Not at all. If anything, it's nice to see.”
The guild master lifted his teacup.
“By the way, young master. I have one more piece of good news.”
“What's that?”
“You know there's a grade assessment coming up soon from the Imperial Commerce Bureau, right?”
“Yes. I'm aware.”
The world inside the brass walls is finite.
Land, resources, and people.
In such a world, free competition inevitably leads to monopoly, and monopoly leads to chaos within the walls.
The Commerce Bureau was an institution born from that long trail of wrong answers.
What the Commerce Bureau does is simple.
It evaluates each merchant guild's size and influence, assigns a grade, and imposes taxes and obligations according to that grade.
In exchange, it provides matching benefits and protection.
Those who have more give more, and those who give more gain more rights.
That's roughly how the system works.
“Heh heh heh…”
Once the keyword 'Commerce Bureau' came up, guild master Gustav suddenly let out a suspicious laugh.
His face was practically advertising what he was about to say, but Julian pretended not to know and kept drawing the answer out of him.
“But what's the Commerce Bureau got to do with this? Did we maybe miss a tax payment?”
“Heh. No.”
“Then did we perhaps violate some prohibition?”
“Nooo~?”
Each time Julian gave a wrong answer, the guild master's smile deepened.
By the time Julian got the impression that the guild master's behavior was getting more and more nouveau riche by the day...
The guild master, who had been dragging it out, finally gave the answer.
“It looks like we'll probably be promoted to Rank 2.”
“Ah, I see. Congratulations.”
“It's all thanks to you, Director! Without quinine and insulin, it would've been a dream!”
Despite Julian's dry reaction, guild master Gustav flapped both arms extravagantly, his jowls wobbling.
Rank 2 meant a major guild.
A scale of business that spans multiple cities, not just one.
A guild that had been on the brink of bankruptcy only a few years ago had become a nationwide major guild.
“If insulin succeeds too, we'll be able to call the shots even among Rank 2 major guilds!”
The guild master chattered excitedly.
Julian calmly clapped from across the table.
He wasn't exactly unhappy.
The Mercure Merchant Guild was Julian's guild too.
He was a director and held 14 percent of the shares. (For reference, the guild master had 16 percent.)
So Julian silently cheered, thinking of the miracle of Mvidia stock soaring.
But his expression stayed as cold as ever.
Because he had to keep up his character image.
“That's really wonderful.”
“It's all thanks to you, Director!”
The guild master suddenly burst into tears and tried to hug Julian.
Julian leaned back slightly and escaped the guild master's clutches.
Fortunately, the table between them kept Julian out of the guild master's reach.
The guild master sat back down, looking awkward.
Back in his seat, he took out a handkerchief and wiped his tears before saying,
“But, you know…”
“?”
“When you get promoted, the taxes go up too, don't they?”
“...”
“Sniff, sniff. What are small business owners like me supposed to live on when this country takes everything away?”
Julian stared at him in silence.
He desperately wanted to tell him to cut the nonsense.
In this world, where everything is stratified, a merchant guild's rise in rank isn't just a hollow honor.
A guild's rank is a sort of noble title.
When a guild's rank rises, it gains some of the rights of the nobility even without noble blood.
A Rank 2 guild is on par with a baron or viscount.
In other words, the guild master now had the right to come and go freely through Sanctum Hill without a permit.
All things considered, doubling the taxes isn't even that harsh.
Considering the privileges and monopolies granted to a Rank 2 guild, even triple taxes would only be worth a few mock tears.
That was why Julian looked at the crying guild master Gustav with cold, jaded eyes.
Thinking that the guild master's nouveau riche image might not be due only to his looks.
*
Meanwhile, Erica.
She found herself at the crossroads of the most important choice of her life.
“Lamb or pork…”
A tiny space remained in the corner of her plate.
The question was what meat to put there.
Then a voice came from behind her.
“Excuse me, young lady.”
When she turned around, a white-haired old man was standing there.
A neat black suit. He was slightly stooped at the waist, but even that was overshadowed by the dignity that radiated from him.
She recognized his face.
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.
“Head butler... right? Then why are you here...?”
The old butler bowed with a kindly smile.
I couldn't resist my curiosity about the kind of person the young master had first kept at his side, and I ended up being rude.
“Were you tailing us?”
“Let's call it an escort.”
Erica was at a loss for words.
“I am Wilhelm, the head butler. It's an honor to meet you.”
“No, no. Please don't.”
Erica waved her hands in a hurry.
Until just a few days ago, the only sky she knew was the local kingpin.
That was the limit of the sky the people living in those dark alleys could imagine.
But now, with the young master, the guild master, and even the head butler—people who made even that kingpin look like a nobody—she couldn't keep her head straight.
“You can't greet me like that. I'm just... just an assistant.”
At her denial, Wilhelm's eyebrows twitched slightly.
“If you don't mind my asking, where are you from?”
“...Limbus Pit, Tanner Street.”
Erica answered honestly.
Hiding it would be pointless. It would show anyway.
Besides, she couldn't even bring herself to lie before that seasoned butler.
But the old butler's reaction was different from what she'd expected.
“I see.”
Instead, he bowed even deeper.
“Then all the more reason for me to show proper respect.”
“...Pardon?”
Erica was bewildered.
The old butler continued quietly.
“Miss. Do you know who chose you?”
“Teacher Schnabel... no, the young master.”
“The young master, huh... heh heh.”
The butler's gaze turned toward the private room in the distance.
Through the window, she could see Julian talking with the guild master.
Unlike the nouveau riche guild master, Julian on the other side carried an unapproachable elegance even through the glass.
“Calling that man merely 'young master' might itself be rude.”
At the butler's subtle admonition, Erica fell silent.
Her gaze fell on Julian beyond the window, calmly lifting his teacup with an indifferent expression.
He looked like a noble born to it, facing an exuberant nouveau riche.
“...I know.”
Erica mumbled with her head bowed.
“That's why I don't understand even more. The young master is a genius—a wizard-like man who can whip up medicine with a touch—so why did he take me in of all people... and is it really okay for someone like me to be beside him...”
An undeserved stroke of luck bestowed on a slum orphan.
Rather than a blessing, it felt like thin ice that could crack at any moment.
But the butler shook his head.
“You are mistaken, young lady.”
His voice was low, but firm.
“What I meant was that calling him 'young master' is rude because it isn't his bloodline that makes him noble.”
“Pardon?”
“For the same reason, calling him a genius may also be rude. That would sound like praising only the result, without knowing the effort he put in beneath the surface.”
The butler paused and looked at Erica.
Erica nodded blankly.
The butler motioned for Erica to follow and slowly walked toward the food tables.
His steps were as natural as if he were taking a stroll.
Without realizing it, Erica followed behind him.
“Do you know how many times that man failed?”
“...I don't know.”
“Of course. People always see only the finished result. They never know how much blood and sweat went into making it.”
The butler stopped in front of the warmed meat station.
He glanced at Erica's plate.
There was still empty space left.
“Ah, I recommend the lamb. The rosemary scent here is exquisite. There's nothing better when you're getting into lamb.”
“Ah... okay.”
Clink. The old butler lifted silver tongs and placed meat directly onto Erica's plate.
“...!”
As Erica flinched back in embarrassment, he continued gently.
“Young lady. Would you answer this old man's question?”
Looking at the steaming steak, he said softly,
“A noble born with nobility etched into his bloodline.
A genius blessed by God with talent, able to change the world with ease.
And...
The butler's gaze slowly settled on Erica.
“Someone who was born with nothing, yet shoulders a noble mission alone and walks a thorny path.”
His gaze deepened.
“Which of these, do you think, is the most radiant title?”
Erica held her breath.
She wanted to answer, but the words wouldn't leave her lips.
The butler smiled with satisfaction, as if her reaction itself were the correct answer.
“Then let me ask one final question. What kind of person do you think you must be to stand beside someone like that?”
“...”
Erica parted her lips, but no voice came out.
It wasn't because she didn't know the answer.
It was because she sensed the weight she'd have to bear the moment she said it aloud.
Had he read her hesitation?
The butler's eyes curved gently.
“You don't need to answer right away. If the clothes are too big, you just grow into them. I can see you've got plenty of that kind of potential, young lady.”
“...”
“Come now, let's go. The meat will get cold.”
As if he'd never said anything heavy at all, the old man turned back toward the dessert corner with a kindly smile.
Then, as if something had just occurred to him, he stopped and whispered so softly only Erica could hear.
“Oh, and did you know?”
“?”
“This old man used to hate nothing more in the world than getting a cricket's hind leg stuck in his teeth while eating No. 13 ration blocks.”
“...Huh?”
No. 13 ration block.
It was a cricket nutrition bar provided to the poor so the city could maintain a minimum labor force.
And the fact that the head butler from Sanctum Hill mentioned that means…
Erica's eyes went wide.
But the old butler shushed her, pressed a finger to his lips, and winked.
“There's no reason you can't be a young lady, so hold your head high.”
“...!”
He bowed politely and turned his back to her.
“Please enjoy your meal, young lady.”
Left behind, Erica couldn't move for a long while.
Amid the bustling noise of the buffet.
The plate in her hands felt unbearably heavy.