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RWBY:Granite heart

Jacques Schnee, you built with your own hands a business empire that spanned the globe. You were Remnant's richest man, whose fame, influence and reputation rattled the four kingdoms. And you fell. Died a pitiful and helpless death. You will only be remembered in history as a terrible tyrant, a vile man, and a disgusting father. But what-- What if you get a second chance? What would you do? Will you right all your many wrongs or will you turn your callous heart to granite for good? Notes: Nobody likes Jacques. That's okay. I'm not used to getting under the locomotive of mass opinion. (words by fanfic author Micky_Furious) Dedication: To Monty, for his peace, to my muse - a can of cider in the cold. And to me, as the Great Lazy Seal. (words by fanfic author Micky_Furious) Warning to readers:This is a translation of the fanfic from Russian to English I am only a humble translator Boosty and Patreon links: Fanfic author's Boosty link https://boosty.to/furious_miki Translator's Patreon link patreon.com/Kotvslape

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6 Chs

Part 6 Merry Misfortune

His unknowingly surviving shoes stamped a stiff and whip-like step.

Both hands slammed against the wooden doors, and he found himself in a spacious dining room with long tables covered with snow-white tablecloths and set with exquisite silverware.

It looked like a slave den.

Accompanied by his escort, or rather by Ironwood's men assigned to protect him, Jacques made his way to the separate rooms that were separated from the main hall, now completely empty.

A new door and a familiar face again.

" James," Mr. Schnee said dryly, taking a seat at the round table directly across from the general.

The soldiers remained outside.

"Jacques," Ironwood smiled tiredly, at the same time nodding to the adjutant who poked his head into the doorway, "I dared to order food from the cook before you arrived.

"I don't mind in the least. I'm starving," Jacques replied a little more cheerfully, clasping his hands together and resting his chin on them.

His back still ached like a murderous pain, like a myriad of ants scrabbling under his skin, relentless and without hope of stopping the torture.

But he kept silent, clenching his jaw and trying to sink into mundane thoughts and distract himself from the permanent agony.

After all, the ninth rule in Jacques Schnee's rule book said, you dare not show weakness. Not to anyone, not ever. You will be cheated.

Betrayed and cheated.

As his past life had proven.

However, the time was now indeed demanding that he act immediately.

Although he was used to pulling the company out of crisis. The only difference was that now he could act more boldly and proactively, not the way he was used to making decisions before.

Afterknowledge was a sharp weapon, and a double-edged one at that. It could bring both good and ruin.

If he relied on it too much, at some point he would be outplayed just as he had been in his previous life.

So even now Jacques Schnee was in no hurry to throw away his trump cards, looking for even the slightest ways to do without them, hoping to get a new card in the ongoing fight.

In his past life, he had been accused of trying to eliminate competitors and many important people of Atlas.

Was he guilty of such a thing? No, of course not! It would be too stupid and naive, as well as dangerous to himself.

But public opinion, which was initially not in his favor, very easily leaned towards the supporters of this opinion, which prompted the Council to take action.

And if anyone had thought they had chosen to side with Jacques, they would have been sorely mistaken.

Pompous turkeys.

Those business-suit-clad twaddleheads had always taken the path of least resistance and greatest profit.

In which he couldn't help but praise their own venality.

The Kingdom Council is obliged to keep the level of negativity at an acceptable level, otherwise it attracts more grimm and forces more money to be spent on defense measures.

It's pure arithmetic, isn't it?

And thus it is more profitable to direct this negativity somewhere, in this case at someone, and let it spill out.

And it just so happens that he's become too convenient a whipping boy.

And almost everyone in Atlas' upper class had been able to cash in on his past mudslinging.

Even a lion gets crushed by the crowd.

So he had to give up promising ash deposits right under his nose.

Now everything was both different and at the same time events were shifting exactly along the beaten path.

His rescue of his wife from under a bomb had become sensational news, and rare individuals on the forums of the kingdom had repeatedly praised his courage and bravery.

Though it would be worth honoring his calculation than some ephemeral character trait.

Would Willow have died in that explosion? The probability of such an outcome hovered around 10-15% and no more, which was almost a negligible risk to be honest.

Her aura should have covered all of the incoming damage, or at least most of it, thus allowing the woman to survive the most uncertain moment, specifically the very moment of impact with the blast wave and shrapnel.

But Jacques had her back, throwing her own health onto the game board.

A huge, exorbitant chance of dying here and now or being left disabled.

But Mr. Schnee, setting aside all arguments of rationality, decided to take this step into the abyss.

It was a gamble worth taking. And it was worth it. In the echoes, of course, still sounded a three-stage maternal construction on his own haste and folly, but the tooth-crushing pain in the body immediately sobered and led to more pressing topics.

Returning to the masses that sided with the wounded hero - their number seemed insignificant against the background of the general negativity, but already bread.

After all, at the same time, the overall situation never changed so dramatically. Yes, Jacques managed to avoid accusations of behind-the-scenes organization of the terrorist attack, at least open accusations, but only by his actions he provoked something equally rotten and sticky ...

Gossip and a jaundiced press.

One of the methods of the main influence on human views, except for official sources, was precisely these unreliable sources.

Only their influence could sometimes even surpass all the others, forming in advance the necessary point of view in the reader or viewer.

And after all, one could think that he had not done something super cardinal....

But this is if you look at what is happening and analyze each act separately. As a result, a completely different opinion was formed by a person from the outside when pointing out the necessary details, as well as silencing the "unnecessary" ones.

His unexpected "switch" with Duffo, that's one.

The second is the fact that he insisted on sitting away from the stage, as well as soon leaving the crowd in chaos.

Then, of course, the heroic rescue of his spouse from an explosion that killed a dozen people.

Just a marvelous list of mistakes he had made on such a busy evening.

Perhaps he could have been more careful, arranged his "absence" in some other way, or gotten the hell out of the event.

But Jacques thought his crazy plan was more promising in terms of giving the contribution of his own efforts.

The only thing left to do was to live to see the fruits of his efforts, and not get an even more painful slap from an agitated public than in his previous life.

That's what Ironwood was for.

The incident at the hotel came at just the right time. Jacques could profit handsomely from the misfortune of poor slaves...

Now, on a side note, don't think like an evil overlord. For it's too tempting to become one in the future.

All this time while he was immersed in constant analysis of the public backlash he was experiencing so far, James was having a "nothing" conversation with him, which was actually a kind of analogous report on the work done and the mess going on everywhere.

"The terrorists are hiding in the poorer parts of Mantle, with no way to smoke them out because of the dense development and some support from the locals," Ironwood gritted his teeth, nearly splintering his plate in front of him.

"The poor will always resent the current government, no matter what measures it takes. You can't make everyone rich, and you can't make everyone happy," Jacques replied indifferently, watching the general sigh heavily.

The man was looking more and more like his future self every day, which made the businessman uneasy.

What a thing to do! Almost a direct rebellion against the new power of Atlas!

But he didn't need that bloodsucker and paranoid, who in the future would certainly make a mess in the kingdom.

At least, not now...

"Now, this investigation has also fallen on my head, just out of the blue. I don't have enough experts to sort it all out," the man couldn't contain his anger, but at the same time it was as if he were trying to burn a hole in a fish fillet.

Oh, how Mr. Schnee was sometimes glad that he had been taught early in his life the skill of thinking about his own thoughts and at the same time being able to discern the information that was coming in.

This was the moment to hook that fish.

It was not for nothing that he was already twenty minutes of full-body agony with the would-be assassin, rather than lying in bed and giving instructions to his subordinates.

"James, you know as well as I do that you can't catch two birds with one stone," the bloody steak was barely perceptible under the point of his knife, and he was grateful to the local chef for that.

Or is it one of Ironwood's guys? And he, as it turns out, knows a thing or two about small pleasures.

" What do you suggest?" - The man asked bluntly, staring fixedly and frowning at the pale Jacques.

His opinion had risen a little after the ceremony, but not to the point of trusting his "partner".

But Mr. Schnee had had enough of this amount of trust that he had managed to lay by his reckless prank.

The calculation had worked out well and the solution to the slave den issue would be another brick in his bright future.

Or his first step into Tartarus.

"You can concentrate on the surviving members of the action. They're the priority right now. Besides, they are the biggest threat at the moment, as well as carrying a certain degree of surprise. And the Council won't be happy if another series of explosions occurs among the slums of Mantle."

Against such arguments "iron-hearted" will not be able to go against, purely out of principle can not.

For him, it was always an objective assessment of what was going on in the absolute. Which he eventually began to forget, but it is not worth mentioning now.

The duo was silent, absorbed in their meal, each with something to think about.

Jacques was still working through the moves available to him right now.

James was weighing the pros and cons of the businessman's deal.

To give him the right to solve the issue of the slave den? It was not in Schnee's power originally, and who else but the Atlas general was supposed to solve such issues...

However, he had a more important task at hand. namely, to scour nearly a third of the city for a handful of bombers.

And he only now realized that the choice had been made before Jacques had even made his offer.

Mr. Schnee had taken everything into account. Because in this life, one rash move would instantly put him back on the old path. Especially now, when the critical mass of deviations in Remnant's history has not yet been reached.

" What will it take for you?"

A satisfied smirk blossomed on the businessman's lips.

"Oh, James, nothing-just a little dirty laundry on a couple of media personalities."

Rivals trying to sink him again? Well, he'll know how to respond in a way that won't bother Jacques and his SCD.

***

In front of the main entrance of the hotel, numerous journalists, photo reporters, videographers, and the curious crowd behind them.

The square where all these spectators of the show were gathered was guarded by the SCS and Atlas military, forming a tight ring around the hastily assembled platform on which Jacques strode.

The crowd whispered, dozens of lenses flared with quiet clicks and a series of habitually blinding flashes.

All the cameras were aimed only at him and no one else.

And he was once again able to enjoy such a blissful state.

When a hundred or more pairs of eyes are focused on you, the feeling is intoxicating.

It gives you an amazing charge of vigor, excites you, awakens something unknown and dark deep inside.

Power corrupts. And Jacques is no exception.

But it feels so damn good! To be on the horse, to lead, to feel all the attention, the awe, the expectations, the fears, and all the other emotions directed to him and him alone.

The monotonous pain in my back and limbs even receded somehow against the background of the endorphin release into my bloodstream.

Ah, how wonderful it was to be a narcissistic asshole sometimes!

Walking to his designated podium, he leaned heavily on its edges with his palms and addressed the audience.

" My fellow citizens..." - Outwardly, Jacques was still as gaunt as ever, with wrinkles on his forehead and drops of sweat on his temples from the unpleasant sensations of his wounded body.

This played even more to the audience and set the mood more quickly.

A somber tone, bandages visible from underneath his blue shirt, and a weary sigh.

That was it. Portrait created, atmosphere set, cameras and microphones ready!

"Two days ago, a truly shocking tragedy occurred that came as a complete surprise to all of us..." - the people fell silent, absorbing his every word, "the good people of Atlas were viciously attacked. But you already know all about it, for the event has not gone unnoticed by our excited and precious public."

He took a pause, surveying the square with a steady gaze.

"But despite all the hardships we have had to endure in recent times, the people of Atlas have not succumbed to the threat of terrorists and already our brave General Ironwood is in the final stages of catching these murderers and criminal elements! " - the people cheered at such news.

Great, we're getting a reaction.

"But, not twenty-four hours later, our fair city is found to be full of rats and traitors! Enemies of Atlas, liars and accomplices to the recent terrorist attack!"

The people looked at each other in confusion, not understanding where Jacques was leading.

And the more effective the strike would be.

"Behind me is the hotel whose landlady made a planned attempt on my life while I was bleeding to death!" - Jacques struck the podium and the crowd fell silent.

" I, exhausted and barely breathing was assigned to be killed by some girl on the local staff. And okay if it had been customary practice and bona fide employment, so my pride would not have been so stunned... But no! Slavery, my fellow citizens! The hotel owner sent a defenseless girl to slaughter! She's not even eighteen years old! Do you hear me, ladies and gentlemen? Under your very noses, the slave den that has poisoned Mantle for years has flourished and grown. Your children have been kidnapped, forcibly shock collared, and forced under threat of death to serve the rotten scum of Atlas! Do you think I'm talking out of my ass? Well, please! If you go online, you'll see the official SCD statement on the slave lawlessness within our Kingdom. There is also a list of rotten officials and businessmen who have used the services of this establishment. For years! Molesting and defaming your children for whom you mourned, not knowing if they were even alive!"

In some places he lied and understated. Almost all of the staff, if not all of the hotel were orphans who had been picked up by the landlady herself. But in the course of the investigation James discovered that a couple of the girls were just children, that they had run away from their parents, that they had treated them abominably.

He was left to play on this story, barely embellishing it.

That's all. It was still for the good of the victims and him in particular.

Oh, it was worth it to look at the crowd, whose emotions were changing so abruptly and smoothly.

Shock, surprise, awe, outrage, and finally... Rage. The pure and untainted righteous rage of the masses, emotionally pumped and wound up.

All that's left is to channel it...

"And all of this has to do with the recent terrorist attack, my fellow citizens! This tragedy has opened like a scalpel a huge pustule on our society! All that's left to do is to remove it. So I'm asking you to get involved! Don't let the perpetrators escape justice and a fair trial in the person of our loyal General Ironwood. If you don't trust me, I dare say no one can doubt the general's honesty. Don't let this scum continue to poison Mantle. And I'll-- I'll do my part to help you. As head of the SCD, I will do everything in my power to make sure this disaster doesn't happen again! And my first step will be to replace this slave den with a boarding school for the children and youth of Mantle. They will be taught by the best teachers in Atlas, paid scholarships and grants for good studies. They will have the opportunity to join the SCD and become part of it," Jacques kept broadcasting, and the people responded with louder and louder applause.

Children.

Every parent's weakness. And when your child is given a way into high society, the gratitude to the benefactor....

Oh, it was an easy trick. One he rarely resorted to, however, considering the inhabitants of Mantle extremely uneducated and unprepared for the professional workload of his corporation.

But children...

With proper training, they would become his army, his hands to whom he could entrust his life and the future of his legacy.

Yes, today he took the first but one of the key steps to the top.

On this day... He will create his own army.

Loyal. Loyal. And obedient.

"Trust me, people of Mantle. Trust me with your future, and I will answer you in full," he made a formal bow at the waist, feeling the wild agony in his back.

But it worked.

For the people of Mantle cheered, rumbled. Applause, whistles and shouts.

They thanked him, shouted praise, cheered and rejoiced in the moment.

And only Jacques.

hid behind his lowered head a barely traceable smirk.

"Gotcha..."

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