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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 133
Overcoming a vague sense of fear, Wellington adopted a serious expression and gave a positive response.
“Then let’s proceed with the contract immediately.”
Victor opened his bag and pulled out the prepared documents.
The thick sheets already had the general terms outlined, requiring only the specifics and detailed figures to be filled in. There was no need for a heated debate.
Wellington, seemingly satisfied with the new opportunity presented to him, kept repeating his agreement like a parrot. Occasionally, he would ask questions about things he didn’t understand, but he appeared willing to compromise significantly, as if it wasn’t an issue.
Ian, for his part, did not impose any particular restrictions on Wellington’s rights as the head of the merchant group. He simply entrusted everything to him with trust.
After all, before Ian’s regression, Wellington had made a name for himself as a renowned merchant in that bleak world.
Now, the only thing left was to sign the magic-imbued contract.
Holding a sharp needle in his hand, Wellington looked at Ian.
“May I ask you one question?”
“You may ask two if you wish.”
“Heh, one will suffice. What gives you the confidence to invest in me? Aren’t you afraid I’ll ruin everything again?”
“It’s okay if you fail. Just don’t crumble entirely.”
Wellington stared blankly at Ian for a moment before breaking into a grin.
“…That’s a bit of a burden.”
“You’re welcome to feel more pressure. I only believe that you will bring me great wealth.”
Ian pulled out a dagger, pricked his finger, and pressed his blood-mark onto the three copies of the contract.
“I’ll make sure to live up to that trust.”
As faint magic flowed across the paper, Wellington followed suit.
The moment both parties’ blood seeped into the contracts, the embedded magic activated.
Woong—
Although it didn’t bind their souls or curse them for breaching the contract, it served as undeniable proof of mutual agreement under their consent.
“Well done, both of you. One copy of the contract will remain with us for safekeeping. Should any legal disputes arise in the future, feel free to visit Midnight. We’ll gladly assist you.”
Ian also compensated Victor for his help in facilitating the entire process.
This is why people need to learn. Mercenaries risk their lives for their earnings, yet a single contract draft and witnessing can earn money in no time.
However, Victor, showing little emotion, pocketed his payment and pulled out a small box from his coat pocket.
It resembled the kind of box a man might use to propose to a woman.
With a click, he opened it, revealing a radiant platinum coin inside.
Fwaaah—
This wasn’t mere metaphor. The platinum coin truly scattered dazzling light, a product of the Golden Tower’s magic.
Given its value equivalent to a thousand gold coins, this currency was imbued with special magic. Its brilliance encapsulated the very essence of a platinum coin.
“W-What the—!”
Startled, Wellington snatched the box from Victor and snapped the lid shut, as if the radiant glow had been an illusion.
While Wellington tried to calm his excitement, his eyes wide with amazement, Victor casually handed Ian a payment device.
“So this is what you’ve been carrying in your bag.”
“I only carry what’s essential for sealing contracts.”
Ian carefully retrieved the black card he had safeguarded and swiped it.
In an instant, an astronomical sum was deducted. If Verdan knew about this, he would undoubtedly chastise Ian for wasting money.
"Hmm. Knowing my eldest brother, he’ll probably just scold me, right?"
The card might also get confiscated. While the sum might not be significant to Berger, it wasn’t exactly negligible either.
He’d likely be unable to use it for a while, but that was fine. At most, it’d only be a month or two.
Ian glanced at the paper envelope in his hand. He’d probably have to stop by the Magic Tower on the way.
If he’d brought a reliable subordinate, he could have entrusted it to his family. Unfortunately, being alone left him with no one to delegate to.
"Wait a moment, Victor."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Why would you hand this over so carelessly? What if I lost it? You should’ve transferred it to my account instead!"
Victor smirked at Wellington, who was shoving the box back at him as though to rid himself of it.
"And what would you do if I ran off with it? I’ve warned you before, Wellington. Trusting people too much will leave you regretting it when they betray you."
"I’m not trusting you—I’m trusting Berger. Do you think I’d steal Berger’s money for a measly platinum coin?"
"Then take that faith and personally carry it to the bank."
"No!"
"You’ve got plenty to do anyway. Starting tomorrow, you’ll be busy. Once you leave here, I’ll assign you an escort for a while. This harsh world requires protection, doesn’t it?"
"And I’ll owe you for that, too?"
"Let’s settle it over a drink later. Something expensive."
So they were drinking buddies. And close ones at that, judging by Victor’s amiable demeanor toward Wellington.
At that moment, someone opened the shop door.
Startled by the creaking noise, Wellington hastily shoved the box into his pocket and stood, momentarily betraying the composure of his former mercenary self.
He looked nervously toward the door, where a middle-aged man with a heavy aura stood.
The man bore a resemblance to Victor. Ian, casually glancing at him, froze as recognition dawned.
"…Estevan?"
Estevan, the head of Demium Atelier operated by the Inoria Foundation in Ruth, was a secretive merchant selling artifacts to heroes and warriors.
Hearing his name, Estevan rolled his eyes, and upon recognizing Ian, displayed mild surprise.
The creaky old wooden floor protested as he stepped closer. Once near, he greeted Ian with a slight bow.
"I didn’t expect to meet you here. It’s been a while, Young Master Ian."
"Indeed. What brings you here?"
"I have business with Wellington Winters, the shop’s owner. Might I ask which of you that is?"
Perhaps reassured that the man was acquainted with Ian, Wellington covered his bulging pocket with one hand and replied.
"That would be me. What can I do for you, sir? Are you here to inquire about fabrics?"
"Ah, fabrics… Yes, that’s right. Would you mind introducing me to them?"
Though skeptical of Estevan’s genuine interest in cloth, Wellington politely began his sales pitch.
Gone was the timid, bumbling man from earlier. He confidently described the limited materials available in an expert tone.
But Estevan barely reacted, feigning interest and offering occasional remarks. His true focus lay elsewhere—on Wellington himself.
Ian could tell Estevan had been assessing Wellington.
"Impressive. I’ll purchase all the fabrics you’ve introduced. The quality speaks for itself, and though the quantity is a bit lacking, it’s clear you understand what you’re selling. Your diligence is evident."
"…Ah, thank you."
"While I’m at it, I’d like to buy this shop as well."
"Pardon?"
“And you as well.”
“……”
Wellington furrowed his brows, staring at Estevan, who smiled brightly in response.
“There’s no need to be so wary. What I want is your talent.”
“You mean you want to… buy me?”
“Don’t misunderstand me. It’s not anything strange. Ah, I should introduce myself first. I am Estevan, known as the Crown of Victory, recently appointed to oversee the eastern region of the empire for the Inoria Foundation. I’d like to invite you to join the Foundation, Mr. Wellington Winters.”
Wellington stood dumbfounded at Estevan’s sudden proposal.
The Inoria Foundation wielded influence not only across the empire but the entire continent. Backed by the Pantheon, it had amassed immense wealth. Becoming a part of such an organization was equivalent to having one’s future secured.
“Oh.”
Wellington blinked in disbelief.
Was this a dream? He couldn’t understand why such opportunities had come one after another today.
Estevan, exuding confidence, asked him again, “Do you need time to consider?”
“No. Your offer is appealing, but unfortunately, I must decline.”
For a brief moment, Estevan appeared visibly stunned.
The Inoria Foundation—being rejected by the owner of a failing, no, utterly collapsed merchant company—was inconceivable.
“May I ask why?”
“You’re too late. Someone else approached me a few hours earlier.”
“Don’t tell me…”
“Yes, the young master behind me. He has already given me an opportunity.”
“An opportunity?”
“I’ve already received his investment and signed a contract.”
Ian, noticing Estevan’s gaze shifting to him, kindly held up the signed contract as proof.
“Well then, it seems I’m quite late. If you don’t mind, may I take a seat here for a moment, young master?”
“Of course.”
Estevan seated himself where Wellington had been moments ago.
“This is unexpected. I knew you were active as a mercenary, but I didn’t think you were also investing in merchant companies.”
“Likewise, I didn’t expect to meet you here. How have you been?”
“Not great, to be honest. Unfortunately, internal matters have left some gaps in our manpower. That’s why I’ve been rushing to recruit, but I didn’t anticipate losing a candidate to someone else.”
“Well, I’m afraid I have no intention of nullifying this contract.”
Estevan chuckled softly.
“Hahaha, no need to worry. I wouldn’t stoop to such unethical behavior. I’m not sure what prompted you to invest in Mr. Wellington, but from what I’ve seen, it doesn’t look like a poor investment. Success seems likely, assuming his streak of bad luck isn’t genuine.”
Wellington flinched at the remark, while Victor observed with a look of intrigue. Estevan spoke again, slowly and deliberately.
“The reason I’m sitting here, speaking with you now, young master, is that I happen to have a request for you.”
“A request?”
“Yes. I’ll get straight to the point, as I dislike beating around the bush. I’d like to assign you a task on behalf of the Inoria Foundation. I’ve heard that you’re highly skilled in exploration. I also know you’ve previously investigated ruins from the Eyarr and Rogolrod eras. And when it comes to combat, there’s no need to say more.”
“An exploration request, then?”
“Yes. We’ve discovered a new ruin. A mercenary group affiliated with the Foundation was dispatched, but we’ve lost contact with them. We’re at the point of considering forming a rescue team. What do you think?”
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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