"I want to be clear -- I really didn't do anything."
This wasn't false modesty.
I genuinely hadn't done anything, so I was saying I hadn't.
"An employee had a change of heart and handed me great terms, and the branch chief was already in poor health and just died."
But I should have anticipated it.
How Rang and Mr. Rockwood would interpret this.
"A former Tower Master was nothing more than a sick old man before you! You crushed him effortlessly!"
"A young lamb who witnessed the Saint's greatness firsthand offered everything and resolved to join the faith! Ah! What a deeply moving affair!"
No. That's not what happened.
It was all a coincidence, I'm telling you.
You keep inflating the story, so everyone else starts believing it too. Stop spreading conspiracy theories.
"......I'll reflect on my failings, Boss. I didn't know you at all. Before Boss, be it a former Tower Master or anything else, they were all just insects to be crushed at will."
"......I shall reflect as well, Saint. To think I underestimated your greatness. You are destined to topple the wicked Emperor and become the new king."
A moment ago they'd been at each other's throats over nothing.
Now they bowed their heads in perfect unison, a flawless pair.
I looked at them both and sighed.
"......I told you, I genuinely did nothing special this time. I just got lucky."
"Lucky, you say?"
"The branch chief was an old man who'd lived more than three times the average lifespan. It wouldn't have been strange for him to drop dead at any moment."
At my words, the slum folk murmured among themselves again.
Thank goodness there were people who could be reasoned with.
"Hmm. So it really was just a coincidence?"
"The Saint doesn't seem like the type to lie."
The truth always won in the end.
Rang and Rockwood's conspiracy theories gradually faded, and I'd managed to set the record straight before strange rumors could spread.
I'd stopped the misinformation.
I was certain of it.
......Then the door opened with a creak.
The secretary looked at me and cried out urgently.
"I-I've brought twenty guild members for now! I persuaded everyone who was on-site, and I've sent word to call in the others who aren't nearby!"
The problem was what came next.
"D-don't worry about betrayal. I-I saw with my own two eyes how you took down the former Tower Master without a single scratch. I absolutely do not want to die!"
Rang's eyes snapped wide open the instant she heard.
"I knew it! Boss's combat prowess was enough to effortlessly crush even a former Tower Master!"
And before I could correct the misunderstanding, the next words followed.
"E-every alchemist in the Wizton Branch will submit to you! All are in awe of your greatness and wish to serve you, so please make use of us as you see fit!"
This time it was Mr. Rockwood whose eyes lit up.
"I knew it! Our Saint's greatness struck them so deeply that they realized this is a being sent from the heavens! Welcome, all of you, to the fold!!!"
It was all utter nonsense.
All of it utter nonsense, and yet.
"The Saint really was the real deal......!"
"He truly did descend from the heavens!"
"The Saint of the slums has come to save us! He walks among the lowest of the low to deliver us!"
My attempts at correction were drowned out by the cheering.
It was already too late to turn back.
I was seized by everyone and hoisted into the air in celebration.
Face blank, floating above them, staring at the sun.
A sky without a single cloud, oblivious to my plight.
The sun, beaming down on me with cheerful warmth.
......It was summer.
***
The slum folk waved goodbye to me.
They'd all stubbornly insisted on helping with the workshop renovation, but the specialists said they'd only get in the way.
Alchemical construction formulas were delicate work; having amateurs bustling about in the name of helping would only slow things down.
In the end, they asked to be called back when there was something they could do.
The Saint's troubles are our troubles. And please come visit sometimes even when there aren't any troubles, they said as they left.
And so only Rang, the alchemists, and I remained.
Or so I thought.
"......Mr. Rockwood?"
"Yes, Saint."
"Why are you still here?"
One person had stayed behind.
The man had seamlessly blended into our group.
"My place is at your side, Saint. Where else would your right hand, your first apostle, go?"
"Back to your mercenary company, that's where. With your skills, you must have jobs lined up tomorrow. What are you going to do about those?"
Mr. Rockwood's eyes sparkled as he looked at me.
"I'll hand in my resignation immediately. You're going to build your ideal paradise, a new nation, and I must be there at your side to witness it, Saint!"
"......You're the company's captain, sir."
"Just shut it down! How much should I pay you per month to work here?"
What was I supposed to do with this man?
After a long deliberation, I...... gave up.
He'd dig in his heels and refuse to leave even if I told him to.
There didn't seem to be much point in refusing.
"......Your income from the mercenary company was surely incomparable to a soap company employee's salary. But if that's truly fine with you."
His pay would actually drop from the career change.
I told him as much, and the man still beamed.
"I look forward to working with you, Saint!"
A new employee, hired.
Watching this, Rang sidled over and whispered.
"This is too public a place. We should discuss the plans we've been advancing once we return to headquarters."
Rang, speaking about the Empire purification plan.
"I wonder what that man's reaction will be when he learns of Boss's true purpose and the deep conviction behind it. I can barely contain myself."
Rang smiled with a satisfied "hm hm" and said.
"And when he learns who the first person to hear Boss's ambition was, who Boss's true first comrade is. I'd love to see that reaction too. Hm hm."
......Rang was still a kid at heart, after all.
'She's dying to lord it over Rockwood -- who calls himself the "first apostle" -- that she was actually the first.'
And whether or not he sensed Rang's plotting.
Mr. Rockwood, thrilled to pieces at having just joined, looked ready for his grin to reach the sky. He pumped himself up and bellowed.
"Let's head to the base and get to work! I, Rockwood, shall be your escort, so there is nothing to fear, Saint. Anything that blocks your path shall taste this axe......!"
The axe he always carried at his waist.
He went to swing it around and then -- froze.
"Oh, right. Your axe broke earlier."
"......Hmm. I'll need to find a new one. I hope there's a criminal nearby with a nice axe."
"......Can't you just buy one instead of stealing it?"
"Any money I earn goes straight to the Saint's soup kitchen as a donation! Obviously! I was actually planning to stop by the soup kitchen for dinner tonight since I've got no money for food!"
"I can give you enough to buy an axe."
"How could I take the Saint's money?! I'd go to hell for that! Besides, you should save where you can."
He talked about looting as if it were sound financial planning, yet all the money he saved went straight to donating at my soup kitchen.
A lunatic I couldn't bring myself to hate.
"I'll be quick, so go on ahead and wait for me!"
The man left with a goofy grin, off to do his axe shopping.
I watched him go with a complicated expression.
......Taking him on as a subordinate. Not going to regret this later, am I?
***
We took a carriage for the return trip.
Rang, myself, and the Alchemy Guild secretary.
The three of us departed first, with the rest following after gathering building materials and tools.
"I'd have been fine walking, honestly."
"H-how could I make someone of your stature walk?! I couldn't possibly let those feet touch such filthy ground."
The woman kept watching my every expression and fawning.
It was comfortable, that much I couldn't deny.
And considerably faster than walking.
"So...... what exactly do we need to do? How would you like the workshop renovated?"
The secretary asked questions along the way, partly to pass the time.
I thought for a moment and answered.
"......I'd love to have some dolls that dance around energetically."
"......Pardon?"
The secretary looked bewildered.
'Maybe they don't have those here yet. Those inflatable tube men that dance like crazy in front of shops for promotion. The ones that flail around in the wind. I want one of those.'
We were about to start selling soap for real.
The last grand opening event had been a spectacular disaster. This was a relaunch. We needed a proper promotional event, at the very least.
The goal was to grow big enough to be invited to the bicentennial celebration. Meet the Emperor. Offer our 'greetings.' To achieve that, the business had to succeed first.
"S-so, you want dolls that perform a 'dance' while 'entertaining' guests, is that correct?"
"Yes, exactly. As many as possible."
The secretary nodded and immediately began taking notes.
[......Slaughter puppets. Target quantity: 99 units. Must be capable of massacring intruders in a beautiful dancing motion.]
"What did you write there?"
"I-I'm originally from the Kingdom, you see. I tend to take notes in my mother tongue without thinking."
So the secretary was a foreigner.
I hadn't been able to tell from appearance alone.
Taking detailed notes to properly capture the customer's input. She seemed like she'd be a diligent worker.
Satisfied with that, I continued.
"Oh, could you also prepare a carpet with 'Welcome' written on it? Something guests can wipe their feet on when they come in."
[Entrance trap. Intended to rip off unauthorized intruders' feet. Ideally powerful enough to obliterate the entire lower body.]
......Did she have tremors or something?
Her hand kept shaking as she wrote.
I hadn't even gotten through half my ideas yet. At this rate, she'd collapse before I reached the third item.
I was about to ask what was wrong when.
......The carriage stopped.
"Where are you lot off to in such a hurry?"
A swaggering voice.
Outside the carriage, dozens of men surrounding us. Every single one armed with a sword.
We'd been ambushed by criminals.
In an Empire that collected taxes hand over fist yet couldn't be bothered with commoner safety, bandits were common.
"Hmm...... haven't hit the jackpot like this in a while. No cargo worth stealing, but. People fetch a nice price when you sell them."
The one who appeared to be the leader stepped forward.
He scanned us quickly and said.
"Especially that brat. A little young, which is a shame, but plenty of perverts out there who pay top coin for ones like that."
Looking at Rang, the filth that left his mouth was revolting.
I quickly checked on Rang.
Given the sudden ambush and the bastard's revolting gaze, I wanted to make sure she wasn't scared.
"And there's a bonus!"
But Rang's expression was a little strange.
She was not frightened of the attackers.
"That white-haired guy's got a pretty enough face too. Sell him off to freaks with peculiar tastes and--"
"That mouth."
......Rang was smiling.
More brightly, more radiantly than ever.
"I'll have to start by ripping off the mouth that dared insult Boss."