Arc II – Agrarian Revolution
Chapter 12 – Deal with a Psychopath
1 month and 12 days since the summoning
Alan stood in the small throne room, but instead of the old peasant clothes, he was wearing a dark blue doublet, trousers, and tall black boots.
Kamelia stood opposite him, adjusting his doublet.
“I do not know why he suddenly…
but Tsinker immediately agreed to a meeting with you, and asked for a…
private conversation.”
Alan looked down at his new clothes.
“Interesting.
And when will he arrive?”
Kamelia finally straightened his collar and stepped back.
“Around now.
Alan.
I am begging you.
Do not say foolish things to him, do not provoke him…
just carefully try to find out if it is possible to get iron through him.
Do not take risks, or it will end badly for both of us…
okay?”
Alan sighed.
“Okay…”
Kamelia nodded.
“Good.
Good luck.” She turned and left.
Alan slowly sat down at the table.
His palms were slightly sweaty, and his heart was beating a bit faster.
‘Alright…
the main thing is not to screw up…
the main thing is not to screw up.
This isn’t Kamelia and it isn’t Lorgi, this is the fucking son of a baron on whom the entire agricultural evoluti…
ugh, revolution depends.’
He sat there for a few more minutes, when suddenly the door opened.
Tsinker.
He was a man slightly taller than Alan, with an athletic build; his black hair was neatly, almost too neatly combed to the side.
He was dressed in a simple white doublet, white trousers, and black boots.
His black eyes looked straight ahead, and his face was completely blank.
Alan immediately stood up.
“Greetings, Lord Utew.”
Tsinker simply stared straight ahead for a few seconds, and then nodded.
“Greetings, Lord Gothwald.” His voice was high, slightly higher than is usual for men.
He walked over to the table.
“Permit me to sit?”
“Ah…
yes, of course.”
The nobleman sat in the chair, his back perfectly straight, simply placing his hands on the table.
Alan sat back down in his chair, hiding his hands under the table.
“So what did you wish to speak about, Lord Gothwald?” Tsinker asked.
Alan licked his lips.
“Yes…
I would like to speak with you regarding iron; we are in great need of it for our smithies right now.”
Tsinker remained stony.
“As my father said, we are currently experiencing great difficulties in the iron mines, therefore, we lack iron for ourselves,” he replied in a monotone voice.
Alan narrowed his eyes.
‘Oh really?
Alright…
how are you going to deal with this?’
“I understand.
If you would be so kind, could you tell me what the cause of the iron problems is?”
Tsinker didn’t even bat an eye.
“The cause is that we have dug out almost all the iron in the old mines, and excavation of new ones is only just beginning.”
Alan placed his hands on the table.
“Then why didn’t your father say that directly?
Don’t think I’m trying to accuse him…
but why didn’t he just explain the situation?”
‘You’re lying, you bastard.
And how are you gonna answer that, eh?’
“I do not know,” the nobleman said evenly.
Alan’s jaw dropped slightly.
“What Her Grace’s father said does not concern me, it is not my responsibility, Lord Gothwald.
You asked, and I stated the reason.
I do not personally conduct business with Lady Armenas.”
Alan simply stayed silent, blinking.
‘Who are you, you fucking warrior?’
He remained silent for a few more seconds, then sat up slightly straighter.
“I understand…” he frantically thought of what else to say so as not to remain silent.
“Any other questions?” Tsinker asked calmly, without changing his facial expression or posture.
Alan cleared his throat.
“Yes.
Then I’ll be honest with you, Lord Utew, I need iron.
Is there some way we can come to an agreement about this?”
‘Fuuuck…
idiot…
just backed yourself into the position of a beggar.
Alan, are you by any chance the son of Lelouch?
Great, now he’s either going to start busting my balls or tell me to go screw myself.’
“Depending on what you can offer,” Tsinker said.
Alan froze for a second, then something clicked in his head.
“Since you came to this meeting, that means there is iron, right?”
The nobleman remained as motionless as possible.
“So what can you offer?” he repeated.
Alan leaned closer.
“Since you agreed to a personal meeting, asked for a one-on-one conversation, and aren’t leaving after the questions are exhausted…
that means there is something you’re interested in.
Correct?”
Tsinker’s face remained as usual.
“Perceptive.
Exactly so, Lord Gothwald.” For the first time, he changed his posture, leaning back in his chair slightly.
“I perfectly understand that you, let us say, have a very great influence over Lady Armenas.
I will very soon receive the title of baron, and connections with the countess will be very useful to me.”
Alan blinked.
“Wait…
but you’re the youngest son, how will you…
become a baron at all?
That’s impossible.”
“Is the iron more important to you right now, or how I intend to take the title of baron?”
“The iron,” Alan replied evenly.
‘This is a fucking…
genuine psychopath, or just a complete madman.
How is he going to become a baron?
He’s the youngest son!
Unless…
he plans to kill everyone.’
He swallowed almost imperceptibly.
‘There are no other options for how the youngest son could inherit the title…
considering there are three sons.
He clearly plans to kill them all.
This is a classic.
Wait…
if he kills everyone, that means…
the eldest too?
And what if…’
“Lord Gothwald, are you listening to me?”
Alan flinched.
“Ah, yeah…
I’m listening.”
“Unlikely,” he replied.
“Then I will start over.
I can give you as much iron as you need, but on the condition that for the next three years, after I inherit the title, the tax on my domain will be reduced from a third to half of a third.”
Alan blinked.
“Isn’t that a bit much?”
Tsinker merely gave a slight shrug.
“I presume you have something important brewing, so why beat around the bush?
I see that you need this very badly.
And besides, it will bring benefit to both in the future.
I heard that you stopped the sickness, not just burned the village, but truly stopped the sickness.
I heard that you found something to feed the duchy with, to stretch the existing supplies.
You are not a foolish man, you know an incredible amount of things, so I dare assume that whatever you need the iron for will bring you a greater profit in the future than some tax reduction for a single barony,” he said absolutely monotonously.
Alan closed his eyes.
‘Fuck, the bastard is logical…
yeah, the four-field system will yield such a massive return it’ll blow their minds…
but reducing taxes on the only barony that mines iron is…
a tough pill to swallow too.
Alright, I need to clarify a couple of details.’
“And when do you…
plan…
ahem…
to receive your title of baron?”
“And why do you need to know that?”
“It’s an important part of the deal.”
“And why is it important?”
Alan’s eye twitched slightly.
‘You are so meticulous.’
He took a deep breath.
“Because I want you to…
to…”
‘Fuck.
I can’t do this…
this is…
fuck…
this is wrong…
this is…
for Kamelia’s sake.’
“For you to kill your older brother after the engagement,” he forced out.
Tsinker’s eyebrow rose slightly, and clearly not from the talk of murder.
“You already know about the engagement?”
Alan swallowed.
“Was I not supposed to?”
The nobleman shook his head.
“Well, since you know, there is no point in hiding it.
Lady Armenas asked me not to mention the fact of the engagement in front of you.
Nevertheless, I understand your logic.
You want me to kill the eldest specifically after the engagement, because if I do it before, the countess will simply have to choose another candidate.
Correct?”
Alan’s face turned white.
‘A psychopath…
a genuine…
fucking…
psychopath…
how is he talking so calmly about murdering his older brother?
Alright…
not the time right now.’
“Yes,” the young man replied quietly.
Tsinker nodded.
“Understood.
I planned to kill them all one by one, and start with the eldest in two months, but since I will have to postpone my plans for a whole half a year, there must be an additional payment for that.”
Alan pressed his lips together.
“What payment?”
Tsinker did not pause.
“I want to be constantly by your side throughout your journey and actively participate.”
Alan was simply dumbfounded; he opened his mouth, closed it.
“You…
what?”
“I wish to participate…”
“Yeah, I got that.” Alan interrupted.
“The point?
Which is?
What for?
Why?
Why does a person like you suddenly want to…
stick around?
You’ll already have your reduced tax and lands.
So why?”
Tsinker yawned.
“Because I see that you are an unusual hero.
As I already said, regarding the sickness and the food, it is astonishing.
You are capable of a great deal, but you simply lack resources.
And what if you had enough?”
Alan closed his eyes.
“You’re a genuine psychopath.
You know that?”
The nobleman narrowed his eyes slightly.
“A who, forgive me?”
“In my world, there was a name for people like you.
Psychopaths.
People who hardly feel any emotions.
If you were born that way and always have been, then you’re definitely a psychopath.”
Tsinker leaned slightly closer.
“Yes, I have always been like this.
Tell me more, who are these…
psychopaths?”
Alan sighed.
“I’ll list them, and you compare them to yourself.
They feel no guilt, feel no pity, feel no shame, have strange habits…
and all that.”
The nobleman was silent for a few seconds, then nodded.
“Yes, that is definitely me.
I am a psychopath.”
Alan blinked.
“And that’s it?
Topic closed?”
“Yes.
So, do you agree to this condition?”
Alan just looked at him.
‘Fucked up.
“I’m a psychopath” and that’s it.
Of course, man, this isn’t Earth where he’d just laugh it off, just…
alright.
But as far as I know, psychopaths are genuine dopamine junkies.
They can’t set goals for decades; they get by on…
momentary complex tasks.
I bet he doesn’t really have a clue what to do with his lands five years from now, and hasn’t even thought much about it.
Interest…
advanced knowledge from another world…
unprecedented reforms…
that’s what interests you, buddy…
actually, why not?
Keeping a psychopath around is actually quite convenient.
You just have to maintain his interest.
It’s a paradox…
but he could become the most loyal assistant.
He won’t betray out of resentment, emotions, convictions, or anything else…
but fuck, it’s a double-edged sword.
If he gets bored, he’ll betray me without a second thought.
What to do?
Hmm…
if I give him knowledge about my world and tasks in doses, instead of dumping it all at once…
I can keep him around much longer, plus even though he’s crazy, he’s very predictable in terms of logic.
I might regret this someday, but alright.’
“I agree.”
Tsinker nodded.
“Excellent.
I assume you agreed so quickly because Lady Armenas is dear to you?”
Alan nodded.
“Yeah, exactly.”
‘True.
Half of it is for Kamelia.
And you don’t need to know the rest.’
The nobleman looked at Alan for a few more seconds.
“Then I will postpone the murder of the eldest until right after the wedding; however, we will discuss this again.
But before I leave, permit me to receive something right before the deal?”
“And what is that?”
“Those contraptions you used to purify water.”
“The filters?”
Tsinker nodded.
“Yes, exactly those.
I want to find out if they truly make water fit for drinking, and if so, I will be even more convinced that this is a profitable deal.”
Alan snorted.
“It’s no miracle device for you.
Yes, a filter cleans water of small debris and makes it safer, but…
it’s not a guarantee.
After that, it absolutely must be boiled, and then you’ll get clean drinking water.
I’ll ask someone to write down how to make it for you right now.”
“And why do you not write it yourself?”
Alan exhaled through his nose.
“I don’t know how to write in your language.”
Tsinker slowly nodded.
“Understood.
Then is that all?”
“Yes.”
Tsinker stood up.
“Excellent.
Inquire with Lady Armenas if she agrees to the tax reduction, and then we will speak further about the details.
I will send my man to you in a week.
Until we meet again.” He did not bow, as manners dictated, but simply headed for the exit.
When the door closed, Alan just leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds.
Then he raised his hands and ran them down his face.
‘I just ordered a hit on a man and I’m working with a psychopath.
What am I becoming?
Fuck, every day I control fewer and fewer things…’
He moved his hands away from his face and let them hang.
‘Alright, I get it!
I’m becoming a bastard who’s willing to trade in lives!
Okay!
Great!
Wonderful!
But maybe it’s time to start thinking with my head?
Okay, what do I get out of this?
One: iron, I can finally make plows, get closer to the agricultural revolution, and keep my promise to Golna.
Two: I’ll save Kamelia from the wedding, and she won’t have to lie under some bastard.
Three: if I cooperate with a psychopath who works like a Swiss watch, ending this shit and sorting out the problems in the county will become easier.
This is fucking necessary.’
He got up from the chair and walked toward the doors, but stopped.
‘And I’m also lying to Kamelia, playing psychological games with her, acted like a total asshole with Golna back then, Lorgi thinks I’m a piece of shit…
maybe…
could I have done something differently?’
He shook his head, driving away the thoughts, and finally walked out of the small throne room.