Two days of rest were given to finalists before the championship match. I changed clothes and went to see my brother. With a hefty bag in tow.
KNOCK— KNOCK—
"Coming in."
"Come in."
I opened the door. My brother must have been expecting me—he was sitting on the sofa in his room and gestured with his chin.
"Sit down."
I settled into the plush sofa. On the low table before it sat fine tea and pastries.
He'd known I'd come around now.
'Good instincts.'
"So, have you made up your mind about doing business together?"
"I need to hear more."
"Can't you just trust your little brother?"
"Pfft. That's exactly what swindlers say."
"I have a great eye for people! I'd never get suckered!"
We both burst out laughing.
"If the North is going to survive, we need to find mana stone veins in the Bukcheon Mountains."
"Do you actually know what that entails?"
"Of course."
The Bukcheon Mountains were a living treasure trove. Rare demonic beast hides, valuable herbs, fine minerals stretching across seemingly endless veins.
But.
Up to now, the North's yield and output had been negligible.
"Then you know why it hasn't worked."
Demonic beasts were a problem, but the real issue was the brutal cold.
Sending workers into blizzard-swept territory, making them work, and transporting goods from there—each step was an enormous challenge.
"I do."
"Why?"
"Because it's cold."
"Well, he knows!"
Sid Karsen shook his head and took a sip of tea. Then he continued in a composed voice.
"You have a solution, I take it?"
"Of course. But first, clear the room."
At Sid's nod, the servants filed out. Just the two of us.
I extended my senses to check for any potential eavesdropping devices.
Once I'd confirmed the space was clean, I opened the bag. A wave of warmth rolled out from the opening.
"Don't tell me—is that?"
"It is. Sun Stones."
An enormous quantity of Sun Stones. Their size and color were anything but ordinary, and my brother pressed his palm against his own forehead with a THWACK.
"If we solve the cold, a huge chunk of the problems disappear."
At my final words, my brother's expression shifted by the second. His face said: 'Where did you get these?'
What came out of his mouth, of course, was something else entirely.
"You're not really my brother, are you?"
I smirked.
"What kind of...... I have twenty times this amount."
My brother fell into thought. I didn't elaborate. He'd know exactly what I meant.
"So. You want to keep the stock for business use as-is, control the volume, and sell selectively to build capital."
He seemed to be running an abacus in his head.
"We could definitely sell to Northern nobles. No—nobles would pay a premium to have them. They've never seen Sun Stones this size."
He planned to exploit the nobility's sense of superiority to turn a profit.
"Then, one question. In exchange for providing all this, what do you want?"
Right. He should be making at least this kind of calculation—that's what made him my brother. And I had my answer ready.
"Let's create a company where you and I are the majority shareholders. Then we launch various ventures. I'll provide the capital and the ideas. You handle the actual operations."
"Other nobles and corporations won't sit still."
"Brother. Why should House Karsen give a damn about people like that?"
"What?"
"If we waste time worrying about every last one of them, the North falls apart."
"......"
My brother's eyes went wide at my bluntness. But I pressed on without a care.
"I'm going to make the entire North stronger than it's ever been. Even if it means sweeping away every noble and business that isn't sound."
"......And the Special Investigation Unit is for that purpose."
"Too many of the nobles and corporations monopolizing distribution are rotten to the core. The territory residents are poor. There are plenty who throw money parties among themselves. And plenty more with connections to the Central Empire, funneling bribes upward."
"......"
My brother looked stunned.
"I plan to change a great many things. So tell me once you're sure. I'm certain Father will approve."
My brother made an inscrutable expression. Was he moved? I couldn't tell. But.
"You're insane, you know that?"
"Maybe."
"Ha. Fine."
He ran his fingers through his hair and spoke.
"I don't know what exactly you're seeing. But let me ask one more thing."
"Ask."
"What are you looking at?"
I answered that question with force behind every word.
"The future."
"Confirmed insane. Completely, certifiably insane. Do you really need me for this plan?"
"Of course. I can't do it without you."
This had been the plan from the very beginning. I'd thought about it since before the regression. I had never once intended to handle everything alone.
My responsibilities beyond business were already overflowing. So I needed my brother. And not just him. I needed far more talent.
I rose from the plush sofa. My brother stood with me. He extended his hand.
"Fine. At this rate I might die of boredom anyway. What the hell. Let's do it."
I clasped his hand.
"Good. Partner."
***
After sealing a verbal agreement(?) with Brother Sid.
I walked the halls of House Karsen's grand mansion alone. Walking slowly, I organized the two remaining challenges in my mind.
First.
The Golden Star Tournament finals.
As expected, my opponent in the finals was her—the girl I'd grown up with. Silvia Maier.
There was a time I'd had feelings for her, but not anymore.
The problem wasn't that. It was that her talent was on a level sent from the heavens, and she was currently stronger than most Intermediate Knights.
'I'd have to rate her at near-Advanced Knight.'
Second.
Before properly launching business with my brother, there was one essential talent I needed to recruit.
"......Hm."
In contrast to the complexity in my head, the stroll was refreshingly pleasant.
The grand mansion was as resplendent as a celestial palace transplanted whole, and incomprehensibly vast.
"Decided."
With my deliberations settled, I headed to the place I'd avoided most before the regression.
House Karsen's Grand Library.
This had been Mother's favorite space when she was alive. It held such an absurd variety of books that one might wonder if a noble house really needed to own some of them.
A treasury of wisdom, one might say.
I browsed its halls and thought of Mother. All I remembered was "Mother was a Mage"—not what kind of magic she'd used, or what kind of life she'd led.
What would Mother think if she could see me now?
Then. I found the book I'd been looking for.
"The Advancement of Magical Engineering and Humanity."
More a thesis than a proper book. I tucked it inside my coat and returned to my room.
CREEEAK—
I opened the door to find Roman sitting at the desk, diligently working an abacus.
"Oh, Young Master. Welcome back."
Roman shot to his feet to greet me, but I raised a hand to stop him.
"Stay seated. More importantly, did Brother transfer the funds properly?"
"Yes, Young Master."
"How much?"
"Exactly 15 billion zeni. He said it was in return for the Sun Stones you sent and for setting him up with the tavern Igwen Luna."
"......His math is sharp."
"Ah, and we have made some progress on the Kroem Mountains ownership."
Roman unfolded a map across the table. Red pen markings dotted it—circles, triangles, and X's.
"I've identified the owners of this area, this area, and that area. They said if they could sell at all, they'd take even a bargain price. But the rest...... most owners are either dead or unaccounted for, making it difficult to trace."
"Dead land, then."
"......Yes."
"That kind of problem will be easy to solve once I obtain the status of 'Inspectorate Knight.' For now, just purchase the parcels you've identified. And don't buy at bargain prices—pay fair value."
"Yes! Understood!"
After sending Roman off, I sat for a moment to think. Finding the veins and building mines. Running factories and developing the mountain range.
All of it would strengthen the North. But doing so required more "technology," and the best engineers I knew were the Resistance's engineers.
"It has to be him."
Now seemed like the perfect time to recruit that eccentric magical engineer.
Our first meeting before the regression hadn't gone well, but something told me this time around, I could at least avoid the worst.
"Doctor Krombell."
A man famous for developing peculiar magical engineering tools.
Currently dismissed as a crackpot by most magical scholars, but destined to be recorded as a legend of magical engineering in the not-so-distant future.
I would invest in his future. And right now, he was in the thick of financial trouble.
I unrolled a sheet of paper and took out a pen. I poured my heart into drafting a letter to Doctor Krombell.
SCRATCH— SCRATCH—
Partway through, I didn't like how it sounded, so I crumpled it and started over. The sincerity didn't come through, so I crumpled it and rewrote it again. And again.
"......My writing is terrible."
I should hire a skilled writer someday, too.
To prevent the extinction of humanity, I intended to use every means at my disposal.
And politics was essential to that process.
What does it take to be good at politics? Reading human desires, grasping the interests at play, and compromising at the right moments?
That might work for others, but not for me. I had a purpose that allowed no compromise.
So what mattered was image. Image was the easiest way to build persuasive power.
Making speeches before the public was important for image, but shaping perception through the written word was equally critical.
Before the regression, politicians who'd dealt with rivals that way were a dime a dozen. Now it was my turn.
At any rate.
I labored over the letter.
To persuade Doctor Krombell.
He was undeniably a genius. When the world was in crisis, his brilliant magical engineering had kept humanity alive.
So I needed him. But how do you persuade an eccentric magical engineer?
After long deliberation, the letter I composed:
『To the genius magical engineer, Doctor Krombell.
They say the scholars call you a madman. But I know the truth. The era simply could not keep up with you.
However.
Doctor.
An uncut gem that no one recognizes is no different from an ordinary stone. So let me ask you. Will you rot away in a corner of your laboratory for the rest of your life?
Will you end your days without your work ever being recognized, mocked by everyone around you?
Or will you join me and make the world know your name?
I have the backing of House Karsen. I have the funds to support you. If you come here, I promise you room and board, a laboratory, and an initial research budget of 5 billion zeni.
Now, only a simple choice remains. Take the hand I offer and etch your name into history.
Or reject it and fade into oblivion as a madman.
I will be waiting at the House Karsen estate.
-Sion Karsen.』
I couldn't claim it was well-written, but I'd mixed praise and provocation in equal measure, so it should be enough.
The research investment wasn't a waste either. If his research and business ventures took off properly, the money would pour in like a waterfall.
I sealed the letter immediately and wrote the address on the back.
The author of "The Advancement of Magical Engineering and Humanity," the book I'd taken from the library, was Doctor Krombell.
It was an odd thing to do, but he'd written his laboratory address on the back of his book. I'd copied it from there.
I went straight out and posted the letter. Express delivery, highest priority. If all went well, he'd receive it by tonight.