MTDIK 24

Chapter 24

The Ability to Read People

If you were to name the most renowned merchant in the Arken Empire, most people would mention Herman Pascal.

Herman Pascal. He was a man who founded the Pascal Trading Company, named after his family name, and expanded it with the ambition of wielding influence not only within the empire but across the entire Serdes Continent.

He had three children—two sons and one daughter—each of whom was called a prodigy as they grew up. However, the one who stood out as the most extraordinary genius was his second son, Stefan Pascal.

At that moment, Stefan was thinking to himself:

“If things keep going like this, I’ll end up dead without a doubt!”

The reason was that the fight for the position of heir had begun in earnest.

Stefan was a man who possessed business acumen on par with Herman Pascal himself. He would invest in anything that seemed profitable, and even if the investment failed, he was an aggressive type who never regretted it.

He had intended to prove himself solely through his abilities as a merchant. Thus, Stefan had focused entirely on honing his merchant instincts under the tutelage of his father, Herman Pascal.

But when his father set the stage for the inheritance battle, Stefan realized that Herman had never taught him the most crucial thing.

“The charisma to dominate people!”

Stefan lacked the decisive charisma that was essential for a merchant. Compared to the influence and charisma wielded by his older brother, Merchet Pascal, and his younger sister, Tilda Pascal, Stefan was no more than a nameless bystander in the crowd. His lack of presence meant he was inevitably falling behind in the inheritance battle.

It was then that Merchet made a proposal to Stefan.

“The real successor will be me, but you’re better at running the trading company. So, you handle the trading company, and I’ll only take charge of the mercenaries under it. At the very least, this way, we can prevent the company from falling into your sister’s hands. What do you say?”

Merchet Pascal, who had struck it big by entering the mercenary business under the pretext of protecting the trading company. A man not only exceptionally intelligent but also trained in personal combat, having hired a former knight as his instructor.

Stefan might lack charisma, but he wasn’t a fool.

“You want to take the company’s mercenaries and leave me with just the trading company? Don’t make me laugh.”

No matter how much money can move people, it’s useless in the face of sheer physical power. Merchet was already building up his military strength, and if he were declared the heir, what would happen then?

“A dog that catches rabbits is always destined to be cooked and eaten.”

There was no way Stefan could ally himself with Merchet Pascal.

“Then should I join forces with my sister?”

The thought made Stefan chuckle bitterly. He’d rather hang himself.

“That sister of mine only knows how to seduce men, swallow up other companies, and then devour them whole.”

His younger sister, Tilda Pascal, was engaged to a major trading company in the empire. She had inherited her renowned mother’s stunning beauty and used it as a weapon to establish numerous connections. Though she acted like an innocent and naive woman, she always carried a metaphorical knife, ready to stab someone at any time. She had a sociopathic streak.

The one thing Merchet and Tilda had in common was their belief that two suns cannot coexist under the same sky.

“If I want to survive, I have to defeat them both.”

But how? Stefan had no network. Even the directors affiliated with the Pascal Trading Company only spoke of Merchet and Tilda, as if Stefan didn’t even exist.

With a groan, Stefan slumped over his desk. He had work to do, but he couldn’t focus. There’s a saying that even if the sky falls, there’s always a hole to escape through—but why didn’t the heavens grant him that escape route?

As he wallowed in such thoughts, groaning in frustration—

“Sir, are you there?”

His secretary entered, opening the door. Stefan quickly sat up and gave a faint smile, acting as if nothing was wrong.

“What is it?”

“We’ve received an urgent report. It seems there’s a demand for the same type of goods across the entire empire, and we need to secure a supply.”

“Goods? Is there some particular item in demand right now?”

“That’s why it’s an urgent report, isn’t it?”

“Fair enough. What’s being requested?”

“Well… it seems wandering knights are asking for monster corpses.”

“What? Monster corpses?”

It was such a peculiar request that it was enough to be considered a top-priority report. There was even a superstition that just being near monster corpses brought bad luck, and intact monster corpses were hardly ever preserved.

“Don’t we have quite a few of those in our warehouses?”

Of course, Stefan was a man whose mindset defied common conventions. To him, monster corpses had potential value as trophies, so he had kept a stockpile just in case they could turn a profit.

“Yes. We’ve confirmed we have about 150 of them.”

“Then just sell them. What else do they need?”

“Well… the quantity being requested is several times more than what we have.”

“What? What are they planning to do with so many?”

Normally, ten monster corpses would already be enough to earn praise. You might not receive a medal, but it’d be enough to leave an impression.

“I thought you’d be curious, so I looked into it. Here’s what I found.”

The secretary handed Stefan a copy of a public notice.

“Apparently, over in the far eastern region, they’re appointing an official. They’re recruiting knights brave enough to fight monsters, and they’re offering the estate and title previously held by Thessalos Wolcher, who was recently executed, to anyone who offers 30 monster corpses. That’s why the wandering knights are ordering them.”

“That’s tempting.”

Wandering knights, who were practically vagrants, would naturally be drawn to the prospect of receiving a title and estate. Though the location was near the cursed lands in the far east, so what?

“Hmm…” Stefan scratched his chin. His eyes remained fixed on the notice as he pondered.

“This clearly isn’t just about what’s written here…”

Stefan turned the gears in his head, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind this notice.

“Asking those kinds of people to bring monster corpses… Does that mean they need people with the ability to hunt monsters?”

The requirement of 30 monster corpses might simply be a minimum condition for the selection process, with more to come afterward.

“That’s one interpretation, but let’s consider it differently.”

Stefan analyzed it with his merchant’s instincts. If you bring back 30 monster corpses, you’ll receive an estate.

“This is clearly an unbalanced deal.”

It’s a difficult task, but not something that warrants an estate as a reward. Excessive compensation usually means one of two things. Either the one offering the reward is catastrophically stupid…

“Or it’s bait to lure people in.”

Wandering knights from all over would flock to this opportunity. What would they bring with them? Their subordinates and monster corpses.

“The Grand Duchy of Valdrova must need monster corpses.”

At this point, Stefan hit a mental block. In a place overrun with monsters, why would they need monster corpses? It was like importing sand into the desert or fish to a seaside village.

“Are they trying to falsify ledgers? Black market dealings? Stock manipulation through chaos?”

Among countless possibilities, there was only one legitimate reason to publicly request such a large quantity of monster corpses.

“Research.”

They were conducting research that required a massive supply of monster corpses and were using the promise of titles to attract people.

“Maybe…”

This could be profitable. His eyes, which had been clouded with anxiety over the inheritance battle, began to shine with excitement.

“Are we currently trading monster corpses?”

“Yes. Wandering knights are swarming in and fighting over them.”

“Got it. Issue a directive to buy up all the monster corpses from other trading companies as well. Make sure we secure them first. Understand?”

“Uh… Is that really okay?”

“Just do as I say.”

“Understood.”

“Good!” Stefan leapt to his feet and grabbed his coat.

“W-Wait, sir, where are you going?”

“I’ll be out of town for a few days on a business trip. You said there was a wandering knight downstairs, right?”

“Yes, there is, but… sir?”

Every second felt precious as he rushed forward.

“Ahaha! You should consider it an honor to travel with this great hero, Lovelus!”

A wandering knight named Lovelus spoke with a greasy grin. His narcissistic tendencies were evident in both his words and demeanor.

Stefan forced an awkward smile.

“Oh, yes. It’s an honor, haha…”

“As long as you’re with me, Lovelus, you’ll feel as safe as if the imperial walls were guarding you. To speak of myself…”

As Lovelus began his self-glorifying story, Stefan sighed inwardly.

“I really have no eye for people, do I?”

Of the ten wandering knights who had stopped by the trading company, this was the one Stefan had thought was the best. And yet, it turned out to be this guy.

For the two days it took to travel to the Grand Duchy, Lovelus did nothing but boast about his achievements. He repeated the same stories over and over, though some parts would inexplicably change each time. Even his repeated stories didn’t stay consistent, showing he couldn’t even be bothered to memorize them properly.

“This is why I can’t stand wandering knights.”

Wandering knights! Eighty percent of the tales that bards sang about revolved around their heroic deeds. Their adventures and achievements were thrilling and provided a catharsis to break the monotony of daily life. But that was nothing more than a fantasy entertained by children listening to bards.

Stefan knew what they were really like.

“They call themselves wandering knights, but they’re no different from bandits or thugs…”

They were essentially a well-trained military force, but without an allegiance or a leader to govern them. It wouldn’t be surprising if they turned into thieves or criminals at any moment.

“Every week, a few of them would come begging to be sponsored.”

And these weren’t just knights of merit. Many couldn’t even prove their skills, yet shamelessly demanded money and credentials. Sponsorship was supposed to help build connections, but Stefan didn’t want to taint his network with such riffraff.

“And what’s the point of helping them?”

They strutted around boasting that they’d do anything for a title, only to run away in their underwear the moment things got tough. There was always a reason why they were wandering.

Suddenly—

Hiiiiiing!

“Huh? What’s going on with these horses?”

The horses pulling the carriage began to rear and thrash about. They had caught the scent of a dragon. While the horses raised in the Grand Duchy were used to the smell, foreign horses reacted as if they were facing a firestorm.

Stefan gave advice to the struggling coachman.

“Put the scented masks on them. The ones we prepared beforehand. They’re in the bag—fit them over their snouts.”

“Oh, those? Got it!”

The coachman fit the scented masks, stuffed with herbal pouches, over the horses’ snouts. Only then did the horses calm down, quietly staring ahead. The carriage, which had come to a halt, began to move again.

Stefan tilted his head back to look up at the sky. The Lonely Mountain, known as the last bastion of the Far East. Atop it stood Valdrova Castle.

A castle built over the lair of a dragon that had not yet abandoned its savage nature.

“The Red Dragon, Valdrova.”

Stefan swallowed hard. A merciless tyrant capable of tearing apart even a prince of the empire. A demon dragon that sought to absorb all the demonic energy in the world to dominate it!

“Who on earth was the idiot who went through with an engagement with that dragon?”

At the same time, he wondered. What kind of person would that fool turn out to be for him?

When Stefan entered Valdrova Castle, he looked around the interior of the fortress. Because the public notice had been directed at wandering knights, many of them had already gathered there.

“Hey, no cutting in line!”
“Oi! Over there! Stop sneaking around my monster carcasses. If you steal them, you’ll regret it!”
“You bastard, are you looking at me funny!?”

Hot-blooded men stood around their carriages, glaring at each other and butting heads. Their appearances were a mess—armor sizes and styles all mismatched, with no real sense of order or discipline.

“Their subordinates are no better than common bandits.”

In contrast, the wandering knights themselves were dressed as extravagantly as possible. Some wore newly forged equipment made by renowned craftsmen to stand out. One even hired a bard to recite his profile as if he were a celebrity. Another had deliberately left battle scars on his gear to subtly promote himself as a veteran knight.

“That guy’s the one who bought 30 corpses from our company, isn’t he?”

Stefan remembered him purchasing exactly 30 monster corpses. The carriage also carried precisely 30. They all walked down the corridor with an air of dignity, like refined and elegant knights.

“Bunch of posers…”

They didn’t bathe, yet drenched themselves in overpowering perfume. The nauseating mix of smells was unbearable. Eventually, they arrived at a banquet hall. The tables had been pushed aside, leaving the center open, which was spacious enough for nearly 50 knights to stand apart from one another.

At that moment, Lovelus struck up a conversation.

“By the way,” he said. “Have you ever seen the one who owns this castle?”

For someone who loved to talk about himself, the fact that he was asking about someone else meant he was nervous.

Stefan shook his head.

“I haven’t seen them, but I hear they’re from the Rosnova family.”

“Ah! The Rosnova family—those are the empire’s protectors, the swords of the empire. But how did they end up chosen as the Grand Duke’s betrothed?”

“I heard they were sickly. Also, they didn’t have the signature eyes of the Rosnova family but instead had blue eyes, so it was almost certain they were born out of infidelity. The family wanted to kick them out and used that as an excuse. Apparently, they accepted the situation and became the Grand Duke’s fiancée and regent of the duchy.”

“Ho… is that so?”

Lovelus scratched his chin at the explanation. A hint of greed, beyond his means, glimmered in his eyes.

“Hmm. If a half-blood kicked out by their family can play the role of royalty as the Grand Duke’s fiancé… then maybe I could snatch that spot for myself?”

The words coming out of his mouth were more fitting for a bandit than a knight. And yet, they seemed completely oblivious to the fact that they were saying such things while standing in the very domain of the person they were insulting.

“To think that this guy is supposedly a descendant of a knightly family once called the swords of the Arken Empire…”

Though the empire’s knights were said to be decaying, seeing such a bottom-of-the-barrel example made Stefan sigh. But Stefan was a merchant. He knew that swords often held more power than laws and was skilled at smoothing things over with flattery anywhere, anytime.

“Haha… Yes, I suppose that’s possible.”

Even as he traveled to this place, Stefan hadn’t expected much from the individual named Ferda. Rumors said they had executed Thessalos Wolcher and brought the eastern lords under their control, but all rumors were exaggerated.

“A nobody kicked out for being useless—what could they possibly accomplish?”

Setting aside any expectations, Stefan simply waited. And when the master of the castle finally appeared, Stefan realized once again—

“I really have no eye for people.”