The day after the family meeting, those with keen noses for power began arriving with their congratulations.
Neither Isaac nor Lucia had spoken a word.
Melinda and Nathan had not breathed a hint either.
Curious, Isaac asked his grandfather.
It seemed the guests had guessed the truth because Morgan had been summoned to the Royal Palace alongside Count Lancaster.
――If the Marquis of Wellrod was called with Lancaster,
and since this was the season of appointments,
and with Lancaster's failing health widely whispered,
then surely the marquis was next in line for foreign minister.
Following that chain of thought, they came bearing gifts.
It was precisely such instincts that allowed nobles to survive in the Royal Palace.
Isaac listened and thought: "The nobles of the capital truly are sharp to the scent of power."
No wonder.
A noble with title but no office lived little better than a wealthy commoner.
Though the royal family paid stipends based on rank, it was not enough to sustain a "noble lifestyle."
For courtiers without land, an official post meant wealth.
Diplomatic posts in particular were lucrative.
The Reed Kingdom, being larger than its neighbors, sent ambassadors abroad.
A single posting could make a fortune on "gifts" alone.
With no telephones or email in this world, an ambassador's reports were vital.
Everyone sought to curry favor, and bribes spread like wildfire.
Appointments, however, were the foreign minister's prerogative.
So with Morgan soon to take that seat, gifts already flowed his way.
Morgan accepted them selectively, but still accepted them.
That, Isaac realized, was simply "how the world worked" here.
It shocked him—a cultural blow.
But not everything about it was bad.
(If nobles flock to power, then when I seize the kingdom, not all will abandon me. Enough will remain, enough bureaucrats to keep the country running. That is enough.)
At present, with Morgan and the others in the capital, the Wellrod lands were run by bureaucrats.
In times of foreign unrest, kin might be appointed as acting lords, but with peace holding steady, that was unnecessary.
In this world, only royal houses, great nobles, or the wealthy could afford education.
Better men who shift like weathercocks than ones who resign on principle, Isaac thought.
If everyone with "noble ideals" stepped down, the nation would collapse while replacements were trained.
So long as bureaucrats worked, he cared little for lofty resolve.
(A little early for me, but this is a fine field trip. I'll learn what I can.)
Isaac still hated corruption.
But what counted as corruption in his previous life was not always so here.
"Gifts" were a prime example.
Once they would have been called bribes and led to arrest.
Here they were simply grease for the wheels of state.
Not crime, but custom.
So there was no need to rage.
He only had to accept it as "the way things are."
This was a perfect chance to study how nobles operated.
He listened to his father and grandfather, storing away knowledge.
He needed no monstrous cunning like his great-grandfather's.
Knowledge gained through effort, and applied well, would be his path upward.
Isaac had begun his first step.
"I'd like to watch Father work up close. Would that be alright?"
"Ah, of course."
Randolph, now acting as Lord, was full of vigor.
Many came to visit him, and he handled not only greetings but negotiations.
To have his son watching filled him with energy.
Nathan had refused with a simple, "I want to play with friends," which was a shame—but Randolph's spirits remained high.
* * *
A week passed in this way.
On days without visitors, Isaac sat quietly, observing his father at work.
Guests assumed, "Ah, the child is being made to watch as training. Harsh, to start him so young."
Not one realized Isaac came of his own will.
Then one day, trouble arrived.
The visitor was Dennis, head of the Black Merchant Guild, House Wellrod's longtime merchant partners.
The guild had begun in lumber, but a century ago, when the marquis of that era took the guildmaster's daughter as a concubine, the guild was brought under Wellrod patronage.
From there it had flourished, expanding into everything from daily goods to luxuries.
Ordinarily, they would never dare turn their backs on their patrons.
But this time was different.
Though Dennis came bearing "congratulations," in truth he was testing Randolph.
"――And so," Dennis said at last, "today I bring a profitable venture."
After his words of celebration for Randolph's new duties, he revealed his aim.
"Our guild asks that you purchase cheap gemstones from us, for one hundred million Reed. Next month, this man Edgar will buy them back for two hundred million."
"Just the fact that these gems once belonged to House Wellrod will raise their value. Rest assured, Sir Randolph, Edgar will surely buy them back."
Dennis's offer, at first glance, seemed like a small kindness—an easy profit meant to give Randolph an early triumph as Acting Lord.
To earn prestige quickly by showing results... Dennis was presenting himself as a helper.
Randolph's eyes shone at the chance. A first achievement was something he craved.
But Isaac saw straight through it.
"This is fraud! It's fraud, Father!"
(I know this, I've seen this before!)
Isaac was not ignorant. He remembered seeing scams like this on TV and in newspapers in his previous life.
He shouted desperately, trying to warn Randolph.
But Randolph only laughed at his son's alarm.
"What nonsense. The Black Merchant Guild would never deceive me. And even if they took one hundred million Reed, House Wellrod would not be shaken."
Dennis chimed in smoothly.
"Indeed, the young master is still too young to grasp the value of money. He must be imagining a sum that could topple the house."
He spoke as if it were no more serious than lending a friend ten thousand yen.
Perhaps that truly was how little they thought of it.
But Isaac could not sit still while his father was being deceived.
"Then have a contract written! State that if this Edgar fails to buy, the Black Merchant Guild will refund everything!"
At least secure compensation—that was Isaac's thought.
But Randolph shook his head.
"Isaac, our dealings are built on trust. We are House of Marquis Wellrod, one of only four marquis houses in the Reed Kingdom. To waver over such a sum would disgrace our name."
His voice was sharp, scolding.
Until now Isaac's silent observation had been tolerated, but to interfere in a grown man's business was crossing the line.
"But Father, this is fraud, no matter how you look at it! I understand you want results quickly, but—"
Before Isaac could finish, a sharp crack echoed.
Randolph had slapped him.
He too felt pressure to prove himself, and having that weakness exposed by a child made his hand move before he thought.
The blow stung fiercely on a five-year-old's body.
Isaac clenched his teeth, fighting to suppress a cry, though tears still spilled.
"Don't speak as if you know when you've never earned a single coin! You're disrupting this meeting—leave at once!"
The words were harsh, and even Randolph regretted them the moment after.
It was the first time he had ever struck Isaac.
But being lectured by his five-year-old son was unbearable.
Had Isaac been ten years older, Randolph might have listened.
Isaac glared at his father—then shifted his gaze to Dennis, filled with killing intent—before quietly leaving the room.
He refused to let anyone see him bawl.
Though still a child, the memory of his previous life made the thought humiliating.
He chose to go to Patrick's quarters, where he could cry and be comforted.
Running to Morgan or Lucia felt too shameful.
"Strict discipline, as expected from a marquis house," Dennis said smoothly.
"No, I fear I've spoiled him too much until now. Forgive the interruption. Let us proceed," Randolph replied.
The adults carried on their negotiations.
――But a month later, Edgar never appeared.
Dennis offered to return the hundred million Reed.
Randolph refused.
That gesture convinced him: "Isaac was wrong. If this were fraud, Dennis would never repay."
Puffing up with pride, he dismissed it as a "lesson fee" and let the matter go.
Whether Dennis had predicted this reaction or whether it truly was just a test, Isaac could not know.
But one thing was clear.
――Randolph would be taken advantage of again.
Kindness was admirable, but only toward the right people.
If shown indiscriminately, it was not kindness but foolishness.
For now, Morgan still stood above him.
But when next year came, and Morgan left for the capital, what then?
Isaac realized he would have to act.
Not because he feared the house weakening before his own inheritance.
But because Randolph was his father.
He could not watch his father be humiliated—not even after being struck.
The feeling was the same as stopping an old man about to fall for an "ore-ore scam" (T/N: a common Japanese phone fraud where callers pose as relatives asking for money).
(First, I need results. I'll show Father I can earn money myself. Without proof, my words hold no weight.)
Fortunately, he had learned ways to profit in the capital.
He had even found a place to put them into practice.
All that remained was to act.
But that was the hardest part.
Would a five-year-old be granted enough freedom?
He would have to appeal to Morgan—with reason and with emotion.
(Mark my words, Dennis. You'll regret mocking my father. ...A few years from now.)
At least Isaac was calm enough not to demand immediate revenge.
Notes:
• Ran - She is a gentle orphan, appeared as Mobu's close friend, surviving the demon attack in their secret hideout.