Chapter 248: Let’s Go Get Some Investments (2)

Marquis Branford, though willing to accept the proposal since it benefitted the Royalist faction, intended to curb Ghislain's influence, even if only slightly.

After winning the civil war, he wanted to prevent the emergence of a new duchy.

He believed his own position was secure enough to make that unlikely, but when it came to Ghislain, he couldn't make any guarantees.

'The military force is growing too quickly. For now, leaving him alone works in our favor… but the real problem comes after the civil war. I can't let resources keep flowing to him unchecked.'

If the royal family and Branford supported the road project, it would undoubtedly succeed. However, they needed to redirect as much of the profit as possible toward strengthening their military, ensuring that Ghislain couldn't act recklessly after the civil war.

"How much of a share would be acceptable to you?" Lowell asked cautiously.

With a disinterested expression, Marquis Branford replied, "Increase the proposed 20% share from Count Fenris to 40%. If they don't accept, tell them the deal is off. Relay this message and return when they've made a decision."

"There's no need for that. We'll proceed as you suggested."

"…?"

Marquis Branford's expression turned puzzled at Lowell's prompt agreement. Doubling the share, and yet a mere administrator—neither lord nor vassal—agreed so easily?

"Did you bring full authority? Are you saying you have the right to make that decision here?"

"Yes, I was given full authority. We'll proceed as you've proposed."

In truth, Ghislain had already prepared Lowell for this. He had instructed him beforehand to accept any share increase, as long as it didn't exceed 50%.

For Ghislain, the profits weren't the main concern. While income would help facilitate future investments, it was ultimately a secondary factor.

– "What's important is the claim of ownership over the roads."

As long as that ownership was formally declared once, any dissenters later could be dealt with through force.

For now, Branford and the Royalist faction held far more power than Ghislain. Thus, Branford would naturally assume that taking a comparable share of the profits would be enough to control Ghislain.

However, that wasn't the reality. All Ghislain needed was time. Once he had sufficient power, he wouldn't need justification to sweep aside any opposition.

He was merely accelerating the process to prepare for the inevitable confrontation with the duchy.

Unaware of Ghislain's long-term strategy, Marquis Branford eyed Lowell suspiciously.

'It's as if he anticipated how I'd respond and prepared an answer in advance. That man is conceding profits this easily? Why?'

In Branford's experience, Ghislain was obsessed with money—not necessarily for the wealth itself, but for personal gain.

This was why Branford had never believed in Ghislain's sincerity, even when he donated in the name of Forisco.

It was suspicious. Deeply suspicious. And not knowing Ghislain's intentions made it all the more unsettling.

'This is undoubtedly a project that benefits us. It's even better with someone as well-funded as him leading it. So why does this feel so unpleasant?'

It wasn't just the unclear motives; it was the nagging feeling that Ghislain could see right through him. That made Branford even more uncomfortable.

Being involved with Ghislain always left him with this subtle but undeniable sense of irritation.

It felt like he was constantly being dragged along by plans that Ghislain had already laid out.

Still, Marquis Branford wasn't someone who let emotions dictate his decisions. He calculated the circumstances and the potential gains, choosing the most practical course of action.

"Fine. I'll grant the toll rights in the name of the royal family and inform the lords to cooperate. Relay the rest of the instructions and handle the details yourself."

"Thank you. Thanks to your generosity, a difficult matter has been resolved. We'll never forget that you're our greatest guardian and will always act in accordance with your will."

Marquis Branford smirked and added, "You've got quite a smooth tongue. As for the matter of additional investments, consult Rozalin about it."

"I will."

Leaving Marquis Branford, Lowell immediately sought out Rozalin.

She reviewed the business proposal in detail before nodding with approval.

"If the Marquis supports this, it seems like a project with good prospects. Alright, I'll persuade Lady Meriel and the nobles in the investment circle. Is the profit-sharing agreement finalized with my father?"

"Yes, it is."

"Did Count Fenris have anything else to say? I don't mean about the money."

"There wasn't anything else."

"…"

Rozalin felt her face heating up again and let out a deep sigh. Ever since her illness, her face would flush whenever she got angry.

'That bastard really has nothing to talk about with me except money!'

Her simmering irritation was palpable, and Lowell shifted uncomfortably in his seat, instinctively leaning back.

'What's her problem? What didn't she like about this?'

Biting her lip in frustration, Rozalin finally spoke.

"I'll send the investment funds along with the payment for the cosmetics as soon as they're secured. For the capital and nearby estates, we'll recruit workers on our side and begin construction."

This was a project with a 40% profit margin. Moreover, it wasn't a personal venture for Rozalin; it was a project directly involving the Branford household. Slacking off wasn't an option.

Though she deeply disliked that Ghislain only seemed to care about money, she wasn't someone who let personal feelings interfere with her work.

Lowell, relieved by her swift decision, offered a bright smile and bowed deeply.

"Thank you for your prompt decision, Miss Rozalin. We'll begin work immediately as well."

After Lowell left, Rozalin launched a major effort to rally the nobility and secure additional investments.

"Oh my! If it's a project under the Marquis's household, it's certainly trustworthy."

"With backing from both the royal family and Lord Marquis, this is guaranteed to succeed."

"This is a must-invest opportunity! Only a fool would miss it!"

The flood of investment proposals from nobles was so overwhelming that she had to carefully select who to accept.

Even though Ghislain was the main driver of the project, no one saw him as the owner. With Marquis Branford's involvement, it was perceived as the Branford household's venture.

Such was Marquis Branford's reputation and the immense trust he had built over the years. Thanks to this, Rozalin was able to amass a staggering amount of investment capital.

Since it was a project involving the Branford household, there was no one attempting to obstruct or delay the construction process.

Even the lords of nearby estates, though begrudgingly, couldn't outright refuse their cooperation.

"Ugh, that little brat sure is pulling out all the stops."

"Look at him strutting around under Branford's wing. It's so hard to believe."

"We'll have to fix that attitude later. For now, it's an important project, so there's no choice."

Grumbling as they were, they still provided the laborers requested. Since Fenris was covering the wages, the lords didn't have much to lose. In fact, they stood to benefit from the taxes deducted from the laborers' earnings.

Thus, road construction linking Fenris to neighboring estates began, with Rozalin overseeing construction in the capital.

In each estate, administrators and technicians dispatched from Fenris supervised and directed the laborers.

An immense number of workers were mobilized for the simultaneous road construction, and with so much money and manpower poured in, progress was naturally swift.

Most laborers focused silently on their work, but three particular individuals couldn't stop muttering quietly among themselves.

"Leader, what's going on here? We've been working nonstop all day. I've never seen an estate push labor this hard."

"Even Count Desmond didn't drive us this much. At this rate, we won't have the energy to escape if we need to."

Hearing the complaints of the two men, a middle-aged man with an unremarkable appearance sighed and replied with a somber expression.

"Yeah… Why does the work never seem to end? Why are we just stuck working all the time?"

These were spies sent by Count Desmond.

Until recently, Fenris's borders had been tightly sealed, preventing spies from infiltrating.

However, with migrants entering from all over the kingdom, they had managed to blend in successfully and infiltrate during the chaos.

Many of the migrants lacked identification papers, which made it impossible for Ghislain to root out all the spies.

The leader of the spies sighed and spoke again.

"There's a lot of work, sure… but we have no choice if we want to gather information naturally. Let's just focus and keep at it."

"But… we haven't even managed to steal the cosmetics or incubator technology yet. Can we even pull it off?"

"That'll have to wait. We need to find a way to get closer to those technologies first."

As they worked in Fenris, the spies had uncovered a number of astonishing details.

The food supply never seemed to diminish. Rumor had it that this was due to some kind of monstrous grain.

They had also learned about the existence of large incubators capable of mass-producing chickens. Cosmetics were already well-known products and had been on their list of targets even before arriving.

However, they had failed to uncover any production techniques. The most they could ascertain was that the monstrous grain was being mass-produced in the old Fenris region. Beyond that, the details remained elusive.

Even if they wanted to investigate further, reality wasn't so accommodating.

"Escaping later will be a problem, but the bigger issue is that we've gathered no useful information. They never leave us alone for a moment."

"How about we just claim we're too exhausted to keep working and quit? That'd at least give us some time to investigate."

"Ugh, for people like us with no connections, that's way more dangerous. It's better to keep working on the construction. Haven't you seen the unlucky ones who got dragged into the labor battalions? If you end up there, you're as good as dead. They'd have us fight against our own estate's forces. No matter how incredible Count Fenris is, he'll never beat Count Desmond."

Ghislain had implemented a special policy for the incoming migrants after lifting the estate's lockdown.

Those without connections, idling aimlessly, or of dubious backgrounds—especially those who looked like potential troublemakers or had caused incidents—were rounded up and sent to the 'labor battalions'.

Criminals within the estate were also thrown into the labor battalions, ominously named the "Labor Assault Corps."

And the one managing this corps was none other than Kaor, infamous as the "Mad Dog," along with former knights from the Mad Dog Corps.

The spies shuddered at the thought of those consigned to the labor battalions. They absolutely did not want to end up there.

"Ugh… you're right about that… but this is so grueling…"

The spies' top priority was to be recognized as legitimate residents of the estate. That way, they could move freely and gather more information.

When they first infiltrated with the wave of migrants, blending in without suspicion, they had been overjoyed.

But it turned out that simply getting into Fenris Estate wasn't the end of their troubles.

They had learned about amazing technologies—cosmetics, large-scale incubators—but without access, they couldn't uncover any details.

To avoid suspicion, they began working on the construction crews, but that turned out to be a colossal mistake.

"I feel like I'm dying already. My whole body aches."

"Same here. I barely have time to sleep. How are we supposed to gather information? You need free time for that!"

"Can't we just escape now? Ever since we got dragged into this road construction, we've lost all contact with the merchant guilds."

The spies mumbled miserably, their expressions sullen.

Volunteering as laborers had left them no choice but to be assigned to roadwork. Having no prior experience with such backbreaking labor, they found it unbearably exhausting.

Still, their primary goal was to avoid suspicion, so they threw themselves into the work with excessive enthusiasm.

This was a classic case of "a guilty conscience needs no accuser."

"After hauling materials all day, I can barely lift my arms."

"Everyone else seems to be working just as hard. Why are we the only ones so sore and tired?"

Lacking experience, they were simply working harder, not smarter, which naturally made the job more grueling.

As the team members grumbled, the leader glanced around cautiously before whispering.

"What if we just quit being spies and settle down here?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Think about it. We've made good money and even bought a house here…"

"What does that have to do with anything…?"

"Just hear me out. Do any of you have a house back in Desmond territory?"

The leader's question was met with shaking heads from the others.

"No, I used to live with my parents. Houses are too expensive back home."

"I do have a place, but it's just a crudely built log cabin in a tiny village."

Seeing his opportunity, the leader's eyes lit up.

"Exactly! So why not stay here? We've got homes and earn good money. Isn't that better than being a spy?"

"No! What are you saying? Stay here? What about our families?"

"Exactly! If they find out we've betrayed them, they'll never leave our families alone!"

No estate would send spies without precautions. To ensure loyalty, they'd always impose restraints, most commonly by taking family members hostage.

As the other spy raised his voice, the leader waved his hands frantically to calm him down.

"Shh, shh! The families can stay there and live peacefully. We'll just fake our deaths if we're caught. That way, they won't target the families. The estate is likely just monitoring them in case we betray them."

"You treacherous lunatic…"

The team member started to lash out but abruptly stopped. There was commotion nearby, suggesting someone important had arrived.

The leader ducked his head slightly and muttered under his breath.

"Looks like the lord is here. Let's talk about this later. For now, keep a low profile and stay out of sight."

Soon, Ghislain appeared at the construction site. It was well-known that the lord inspected multiple construction sites daily without fail.

Ghislain meticulously examined various parts of the site before noticing the three huddled figures off to one side.

"Hm? They look familiar. Where have I seen them before?"

Hearing Ghislain muttering, the leader broke out in a cold sweat. While they hadn't committed any major crimes yet, they were here to do so, making it impossible not to feel tense.

After a brief moment of thought, Ghislain nodded as if recalling something.

"Ah, you're the ones I saw during the residential construction project, aren't you? Now that I think about it, weren't the three of you always sticking together back then too?"

At his words, the spies turned pale as a sheet.

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