CHAPTER 144: It’s truly a great opportunity, I’m telling you! (2)

The nobles, who had been fighting moments ago, stopped and grumbled amongst themselves.

"What in the world is going on here!"

"Tch, let's just head back for now and try again later."

"Ugh, so rude. Typical northern bumpkin manners. If it weren't for Marquis Branford…"

The same people who were drawing swords outside someone else's property were now acting dignified, lamenting about manners.

After some time, most of the crowd dispersed. With the doors firmly shut and no communication from inside, they had no other choice.

Once the commotion died down, Ghislain casually asked Claude.

"Are they all gone?"

"For the most part, yes. But what's the plan now? If we reopen, it'll just turn into another madhouse."

"We'll make sure it doesn't."

"And how exactly are we going to do that?"

"By appointing a proxy. Might as well sell everything off quickly and be done with it."

There was no point in staying in the capital any longer than necessary.

Having made his decision, Ghislain strode off confidently.

Claude hurriedly chased after him, asking,

"Didn't you say you didn't want to hand this over to someone else? Isn't it just chaotic because it's the beginning? It might stabilize after a few days."

"How long will that take? Unless we set up branches in every territory in the kingdom, people will keep flooding in. Even some of the most famous merchant guilds are already knocking on our door."

"…So returning to the territory immediately is out of the question."

"Exactly. At this rate, I'll be stuck here until the stock is completely depleted."

Ghislain had underestimated demand, basing his calculations on the popularity he observed in his past life.

His original plan was to adopt a luxury strategy, selling exclusively to a small group of wealthy nobles before gradually expanding his market.

This would have allowed him to control demand and establish a steady revenue stream. But rumors about Rozalin's miraculous recovery spread far faster than anticipated.

While the booming business was a good problem to have, it couldn't take precedence over more critical matters.

As much as it pained him to share profits, the current situation made appointing a proxy the better option.

Understanding Ghislain's reasoning, Claude spoke with a dramatic resolve.

"Then I'll stay behind and manage it somehow! My lord, you should return to the estate."

"You'll just slack off if I leave you alone. Do you want to die?"

"Apologies…"

Claude's ambition was quickly shut down by Ghislain's unyielding retort.

"Then who are you planning to hand this over to?"

"Let's see…"

The proxy needed to be someone with enough power to keep the nobles in check and competent enough to manage operations effectively.

The list of suitable candidates was short.

'Countess Ailesbur wouldn't be a bad choice, but since I'm already tied to the Branford family, it's better to hand this to them.'

With that thought, Ghislain made his way to the Branford mansion, swaggering as he went.

When the Marquis Branford saw him arrive unannounced, he rubbed his temples to suppress a headache.

'This isn't some friend's house you can just drop by…'

Hiding his thoughts, the marquis maintained his usual stoic expression and asked,

"What brings you here?"

"I'm here with good news."

A line often used by swindlers.

The marquis narrowed his eyes, scanning Ghislain up and down. But Ghislain remained unbothered, meeting his gaze confidently.

"…Speak."

"You're aware of the growing popularity of my cosmetics, correct?"

"And?"

"I'd like the Branford family to take over the sales operation."

The marquis raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued.

"Why would you hand it over when it's selling so well?"

"There are too many customers for us to handle with our current staff. I'm offering you 10% of the profits in exchange for an investment of 300,000 gold."

The marquis's mouth fell open in disbelief.

Three hundred thousand gold was enough to buy a small territory. To mention such a staggering amount so casually was absurd.

The cosmetics were indeed wildly popular, but exchanging 10% of the profits for 300,000 gold was ludicrous.

'Does this kid think I'm a fool just because I've humored his requests a few times?'

It had been a long time since the marquis felt this level of indignation. Scowling, he curtly replied,

"No."

The outright rejection caused both Belinda and Claude, who had followed Ghislain, to nod in agreement.

'The young master went too far this time. Three hundred thousand gold? You could live like a king for decades with that kind of money.'

'Why is our lord's scale always so ridiculously massive? Did he really think this was a fair deal? Even an idiot wouldn't accept such terms.'

Before the awkward atmosphere could settle, Rozalin, self-proclaimed supporter of Ghislain, interjected.

"Father! I'll cover half the cost. Accept the deal. This is an excellent opportunity."

Startled by her sudden declaration, the marquis raised an eyebrow and asked,

"Opportunity? How is this a good opportunity?"

"Cosmetics are consumables—they'll keep selling. The investment will be recovered eventually."

"And how long will it take to recover that money? Ten percent means a mere ten gold per hundred. After accounting for operational and management costs, even half of that won't remain."

"That's only because it's being sold in the capital right now. Once Deneb's name spreads across the kingdom, the profits will far exceed expectations."

While her argument wasn't wrong, spreading the brand's name and establishing distribution channels would require even more time and money.

Clicking his tongue, the marquis reprimanded her.

"Do you think that's as easy as it sounds? Selling in the capital and building branches across the kingdom are entirely different challenges."

"I'll manage it."

Her confident response made the marquis hesitate.

"You will?"

"If you entrust it to me, I'll recover the principal without any issues."

"If he fails to supply the products properly, you'll face significant losses."

At this, Ghislain, who had been quietly listening, grinned and reassured him.

"Come on, it's in my best interest if the products sell well. Do you really think I'd sabotage that? There's no need to worry."

Rozalin chimed in enthusiastically.

"That's right. Baron Fenris isn't that kind of person. You've seen that for yourself, haven't you?"

Ghislain had intended to keep his distance from Rozalin, but her active support was changing the dynamic.

"Eventually, I planned to establish branches gradually. With Miss Rozalin's help, it'll happen much faster, benefiting both your family and mine."

The combined effort of the two left the marquis momentarily flustered.

Taking advantage of this, Rozalin pressed harder.

"This is also an opportunity to elevate our family's influence. All the nobles will have to buy this product through us!"

This point was undeniable.

Monopolizing a highly sought-after product was a form of power.

If that product was wildly popular, the influence gained from it would be even greater.

For a moment, the marquis almost felt convinced, but he quickly shook his head.

'No, no. It's ridiculous to spend 300,000 gold and take on the work just for that. I'm no fool!'

It was common sense in investments to expect equity in return for funding.

Being asked to do the work for free on top of that? No sane investor would agree to such terms.

As the marquis prepared to reject the offer again, Rozalin quickly signaled to Ghislain and spoke.

"Think about it, Father. Imagine branches spread across the kingdom, all bearing the Branford family's flag. It won't be a loss for our family. We'll recover the principal quickly, and after that, it's pure profit. Let me handle it."

The marquis eyed Rozalin suspiciously, puzzled by her fervor.

'Why is she so adamant? Could she really have been inspired by that fool's words?'

A sudden thought struck him, and he pointed at her, saying,

"You don't have much time before your marriage. You can't afford to take on another responsibility."

But Rozalin had anticipated this objection and countered smoothly.

"Now that I'm cured, is there any need to marry into such a family? Surely there are better options for me. Wouldn't you agree it's a waste?"

"Hmm…"

The marquis' resolve wavered slightly.

Her illness was cured, and her personality was returning to its former vigor. Sending her to such a family now did feel like a waste.

Seeing this, Rozalin realized now was the time to push harder.

"Father, you know I've successfully managed organizations before. Entrust this to me, and I'll make sure the 300,000 gold seems like a bargain in hindsight."

The marquis couldn't refute her words.

Indeed, Rozalin's managerial skills surpassed his own.

Before her illness, she had run multiple organizations simultaneously without complaints or losses. She could be trusted with this.

'It sounds reasonable… but something about it still feels off…'

The marquis glanced at Ghislain, who smirked confidently.

"Long-term, I'll be the one at a loss. I'm only offering this deal because I urgently need funds and can't handle the management burden alone. Opportunities like this don't come often."

It took a peculiar skill to deliver lines like a swindler's with such poise.

The marquis frowned slightly.

"But the amount is still too much…"

"Father!"

Snap!

Rozalin opened her fan dramatically, covering her face except for her sharp eyes that stared directly at the marquis.

"Why are you hesitating, Father? This will elevate our family's influence and generate profits! You know the value of this opportunity!"

'What does it mean to act like myself? Selling cosmetics? Is that what's supposed to be me?'

The marquis felt a wave of indignation.

'Why… am I hearing this? Why… do I have to sell cosmetics? Why… do I have to give him money?'

The truth was, he understood Rozalin was right. That was the problem. Knowing the value of the proposal made him waver.

It was a viable opportunity, but for some reason, it was giving him a stomachache.

Clutching his throbbing head, the marquis closed his eyes.

Ever since that Ghislain showed up, every event felt like it was spiraling out of control.

First, he'd been asked to be a guardian, which led to full-fledged support. Now, he was being asked to sell cosmetics and fork over money.

'Ah, I know why this hurts.'

Upon reflection, it was clear: Ghislain always managed to get what he wanted.

A look of inner turmoil crossed the marquis's face.

Seeing this, Belinda and Claude clenched their fists in anticipation.

'He's really wavering! Is that truly the Marquis Branford?'

'Could this actually work? I hope it does! It'll be incredible! And I might even have less work. Please, please!'

While the marquis struggled to reach a decision, Ghislain prepared to deploy his ultimate card.

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