Chapter 74

Chapter 74
The team moved like ants—fast, efficient, and joyful. Miss Agnes held a clipboard, noting every item placement. Butler Raymond adjusted the angle of the silk banner that read:
“ROBINSON GOODS GRAND LAUNCH — TOMORROW”
And then… the nobles arrived.
Drawn by the laughter, lights, and tantalising smells, elegantly robed aristocrats, wealthy merchants, and dignitaries from foreign lands strolled into the plaza.
A noblewoman in a feathered hat eyed the fried chicken greedily. “Is that… poultry cooked in oil infused with mana? What sorcery!”
“That cup—what’s that smell? Beef stew?” asked a foreign merchant, leaning too close.
“This cloth!” said another, rubbing his fingers over the cold-silk towel. “Is it magically preserved?”
The murmurs grew louder. More nobles gathered, their guards in tow. Some even brought out coin pouches.
“I’ll take ten of those bottles!”
“I want a crate of that spiced meat!”
“Name your price for the glowing yogurt!”
I stepped forward, waving both hands up. “Easy now, lords and ladies! I appreciate the interest—truly, I do.”
All eyes turned to me.
“But this—” I motioned to the glittering stalls and sizzling food trays, “—is a preview. The real sale starts tomorrow morning, after the opening ceremony.”
Disappointed gasps spread like wildfire.
“Can’t we reserve in advance?” a bejeweled noble asked.
“No preorders either,” I replied with a teasing grin. “Fair trade. First come, first served. And besides…” I gestured behind me where the workers were still adjusting signs and samples. “My team needs tonight to finalise everything.”
Reluctantly, the nobles nodded, some pouting like children denied sweets.
As they slowly wandered off—still eyeing the tables—Elvie leaned closer to me and whispered, “You do realise you just made them want it twice as much, right?”
I grinned. “Exactly the plan.”
Felix chuckled as he bit into a leftover chicken wing. “Boss, tomorrow’s going to be chaos.”
“Controlled chaos,” I said. “And we’re going to be the storm.”
After the nobles and merchants finally dispersed from the plaza, the scent of fried chicken and cup noodles still lingered in the air like an invisible ribbon of triumph. But there was still one last thing I needed to do before tomorrow's grand opening.
“Alright, everyone!” I clapped my hands and gathered the whole team—Felix, Karl, Kael, Ella, Elvie, Miss Agnes, Butler Raymond, Igor, the guardian team assigned to guard the plaza and even the guild volunteers who’d stayed behind to help. “Line up. It’s time to suit up for tomorrow.”
They gathered around me, a little sweaty from the day’s hustle but buzzing with excitement. Behind me, I pulled out a thick case I’d requested from the Guardian Screen earlier, paid for with a chunk of our celebration budget.
“What's that, boss?” Felix asked, wiping his hands on a towel.
“This,” I said with a grin as I unlocked it and threw open the lid, “is our uniform. We’re not just merchants—we're representatives now. We need to look like a unit.”
Inside were neatly folded sets of clothing:
But the most striking part?
Each set came with a dark grey cap embroidered with the Elven Kingdom’s crest—a silver tree with outstretched roots and stars above it.
I tossed the first set to Kael. “You’re the head of intelligence. Look sharp.”
“Damn, this is nice,” Kael muttered, holding the vest up to his chest.
Ella gasped as she ran her fingers along the shirt’s hem. “Wait, this stitching is glowthread. You got this imported?”
“Crafted directly through the system,” I winked.
Butler Raymond looked over his spectacles. “A military cut, yet refined. Stylish and tactical. Lord Dirk, you’ve outdone yourself.”
Even Miss Agnes, ever the stoic, gave an approving nod. “This will make a statement.”
“I want people to see us tomorrow and remember what unity looks like,” I said. “We’re not some ragtag merchant crew anymore. We represent something bigger. Every piece you wear tells them: Robinson Town is here—and we’re not to be ignored.”
Felix was already pulling the shirt over his head. “Boss, can I wear mine tonight?”
“Not yet,” I said, laughing. “Tomorrow, we debut together—first thing, with the sunrise.”
Karl saluted dramatically. “Ready to flex for the noble ladies!”
“You’re lifting tents again in the morning, Karl,” Elvie rolled her eyes.
The mood was light, teasing, and warm—exactly what we needed after the long day of preparation. One by one, they tried on their uniforms, some twirling, others giving thumbs-up. Even the volunteers clapped and cheered.
As they laughed and posed under the mana-lamps, I took a step back and looked at my team—my family.
We were ready. Tomorrow, we wouldn’t just be opening a stall.
Meanwhile, Atop the Royal Balcony...
King Ernest himself stood flanked by dignitaries and visiting royals. The balcony buzzed with murmured awe as the convoy finished setting up. His daughter leaned over the rail, eyes wide at the rainbow shimmer of the mana ice cream cart.
“They built a kingdom within a town,” one noble muttered.
“They brought another era,” said another.
The King gave a soft smile. But it was strained.
I will meet him soon.
Later that evening, I entered the throne hall not in formal robes but in my merchant gear—clean and practical, enhanced with defence charms and a small enchantment gem glowing on my collar.
The King looked up from his dais, the golden dragon crown faintly tilted on his greying brow.
“You've turned my kingdom into a stage,” he said, voice amused. “And you’ve done it without asking anyone's permission.”
“I asked yours,” I replied, bowing slightly. “And I brought receipts.”
He chuckled—a weary, but honest sound. “The people haven’t laughed like this in years. Even my daughter smiled again. I should be mad at your gall... But instead, I find myself envious. You made them believe again.”
I met his gaze. “That’s what I promised them.”
He gestured for me to stand beside him, looking down over the plaza as the sun dipped low and the lights from my stage shimmered like the first stars of dusk.
“Tell me, Dirk,” the King said quietly, “how much gold do I need to bring your wares into my city walls—permanently?”
I looked down at the cheering crowd, the families eating fried chicken, nobles buying yoghurt milk, and the music starting from my enchanted speakers.
Then I said, “No gold. Just fair laws. Equal work. And no chains.”
The King stared at me for a long moment—then nodded. And the future shifted.
The grand banquet hall of the royal palace gleamed under the warm glow of enchanted chandeliers. Gold-trimmed drapes, silver candelabras, and a long row of delicately prepared meals awaited nobles, dignitaries, and royals from across the continent. The atmosphere buzzed with subtle tension—fine conversation mixing with unspoken suspicions. It was a royal dinner that marked the beginning of the Feast Week… and my team’s presence made it anything but ordinary.
I entered with my group at my side.
Miss Agnes wore a flowing, formal version of her usual military coat—crimson lined with silver threads. Elvie, elegant in a deep blue gown embroidered with mana-threaded patterns, had her usual sharp-eyed watchfulness hidden behind a soft smile. Behind us, Felix and Kael walked in full tactical gear—vests strapped with weapons, comms units tucked in their collars, visors up just enough to show they meant business. A subtle statement.
Whispers rippled through the noble crowd as my presence sent waves across the hall like a rock tossed into still water.
"That’s him?"
"That’s the merchant lord?"
“He brought soldiers… armed.”
“Guns… are those the weapons from the border rumors?”
I let them talk.
King Ernest rose from his chair at the royal table and smiled.
“Lord Dirk! You grace our court once more,” he announced, waving a hand warmly. “Please, sit here—by my side.”
A few nobles stiffened.
With respectful nods, I moved toward the king’s table, Elvie and Miss Agnes flanking me. My guards took position near the back, their silent vigilance reinforcing our message: I wasn’t here to play court games.
The Queen greeted me with a graceful nod. Saintess Athena, radiant in white, leaned forward. “The nobles are uneasy,” she said under her breath, amused. “Your presence always stirs the quiet waters.”
I smiled faintly and replied, “Better they feel a ripple now than a wave later.”