Chapter 75

Chapter 75
As dinner was served, nobles from neighbouring kingdoms offered polite smiles and measured questions.
"Lord Dirk, I heard you've brought miracle products from a land of wonders. Are the rumours of mana-enhancing milk true?" asked a merchant duke with a silver monocle.
"They are," I replied, sipping the sparkling wine. "Tomorrow, you'll see for yourself—along with nutrient-rich snacks, healing lotions, enchanted utility gear, and more. I do not bring fantasy—I bring function."
Several nobles whispered among themselves, clearly intrigued.
One lord with an eagle-emblem cloak leaned forward. "But these weapons... these soldiers. Why the display of force at a peaceful feast?"
I met his eyes, calm but firm. "Because last month, demons crossed into our lands and killed over two hundred of my people. We responded. I won't be caught unaware again."
Silence.
The Queen nodded softly. "And rightly so. Dirk's town is no longer just a trading post—it is a pillar of strength in the realm."
Kael stepped forward subtly and whispered in my ear. "Three nobles from the Kingdom of Baroch have dispatched spies. They're trying to measure your strength, maybe more."
I nodded.
"Let them watch," I murmured. "Let them wonder how deep the river flows."
As the music resumed and dessert arrived, more nobles approached—now cautiously respectful, eyes lingering on my guards' weapons and the unwavering confidence of my team.
King Ernest leaned close. "You've shaken their foundations. I don't know whether to thank you or fear the storm you bring."
I smiled. "Just be ready to sail with me when the tide rises."
He laughed—genuinely this time. And from the shadows of the hall, I could feel it: the weight of the world shifting. The game had changed. And I was no longer a pawn on their board—I was the new piece they couldn't define.
The next morning, the city buzzed like a stirred hive.
It was the day of the grand Market Fair.
From the palace balconies and high towers, you could see the crowd already gathering near the heart of the plaza, where the massive Robinson Pavilion had been set up like a shining jewel. With brightly coloured fabric awnings, smooth wooden booths, and sleek modern tables and chairs unfamiliar to most of the kingdom, it looked more like a piece of another world than a simple merchant tent.
I stood just outside the entrance, arms crossed, surveying the bustling crowd. My team moved like clockwork—disciplined, clean, and proud in their new uniforms: deep crimson and forest-green long-sleeved shirts with reinforced modern pants, matching vests, and sturdy rubber-soled shoes that were a rare marvel here. The Elven Kingdom emblem stitched in gold shimmered on the back of each hat they wore.
People gawked. They .
"That's... That's his team?" someone whispered.
Even some knights turned their heads, their finely tailored but traditional cloaks suddenly seeming outdated compared to the sleek practicality of our setup.
Baron Weslin arrived early, dressed in his finest blue silk robes. His eyes widened the moment he laid eyes on my crew.
"Dirk!" he called out, striding across the plaza with urgency. "By the stars, these uniforms—are they... for sale?"
I smiled, amused. "Good morning, Baron. They are – but only in Robinson Town."
His face fell slightly. "Only there? But I need two hundred for my estate staff. No—make that three. I'll even pay double."
"You're welcome to visit anytime," I said with a chuckle. "We'd be happy to accommodate. But fair trade, Baron. No special favours."
Weslin huffed and shook my hand. "Then I'll send my steward tomorrow."
Behind him, the line grew longer by the minute. Dozens... then hundreds of people lined up, winding through the plaza and spilling onto the surrounding streets just for the chance to step inside the Robinson Pavilion.
Inside, Elvie, Ella, Miss Agnes, Igor and my other staff moved with practised ease. Colourful signs labelled each section: Foods, Clothing, Household Goods, Tools, Mana-Enhancing Products, Children's Treats, and more.
I watched people gasp as they were handed cotton candy on sticks, bit into steaming hotdogs, chorizo, pizza, bread and mamons, or sipped yoghurt milk that glowed faintly with blue mana lines. Our food court was alive with scent and song, and laughter echoed as children tugged their parents toward a table selling fried chicken and crunchy chips in sealed bags.
Nobles cautiously approached the tables with more refined goods—clothing woven with hidden magic threads, beautifully designed cutlery, and even jewellery enhanced with minor enchantments. Their initial scepticism gave way to fascination.
"This... this knife peels fruit without wasting any of it?" asked a noblewoman from a nearby territory.
"It does," said Miss Agnes smoothly, smiling. "No mana required."
By noon, the line still stretched halfway through the southern gate. Felix came to my side, adjusting his tactical vest and sipping coffee.
"We've got nine noble houses placing orders in bulk," he said with a grin. "And the noble dwarves just offered a joint trade route with Robinson Town."
"Good," I replied, tapping my screen and confirming deliveries. "Let's keep the flow steady. Prioritize Robinson products and no under-the-table deals. We keep things fair."
As I glanced around at the full plaza—nobles haggling, commoners laughing, even visiting dignitaries from distant kingdoms marvelling at plastic basins and spice racks—I couldn't help but feel a ripple of pride.
What started with a humble backpack and a dream was now a movement.
This wasn't just a market fair anymore. It was a revolution. And Robinson Town was at the heart of it.
The sun hung high above the capital's plaza, casting golden rays over the jubilant crowd and the towering Robinson Pavilion that now dominated the heart of the market fair. The scent of fried chicken and grilled chorizo wafted through the air, mingling with the sounds of cheerful chatter, clinking coin purses, and delighted gasps.
And right in the middle of it all, I stood with a coffee in one hand and nobles surrounding me like buzzards drawn to gold.
"Lord Dirk, surely we can negotiate," a highborn merchant from the Wind Kingdom pleaded, his silver-embroidered cloak billowing slightly in the breeze. "If you set up just one of these pavilions in my duchy, I can guarantee exclusive rights to your goods. We'll split profits. Sixty–forty."
"Sixty–forty?" snorted Baron Weslin, who still hadn't left my side. "I already offered double, and he said no."
A noblewoman from the Earthen Kingdom, her braids woven with jewelled vines, stepped forward next. "We'll fund your infrastructure, Lord Dirk. Just bring Robinson products to our land. Our capital has no innovations like this."
I took a slow sip from my cup, letting their desperation stew for a moment.
Then I smiled.
"I appreciate the enthusiasm," I said evenly. "But I didn't build this to be a travelling circus or a noble's toy. Robinson Town is where it all began, and that's where it'll stay. If you want these goods—come and get them. Invest in Robinson. Trade with us. Bring your merchants, your artisans, your coins. But the heart stays where it belongs."
There was a murmur, part dismay, part begrudging respect. King Ernest, standing nearby with Queen Mara and Saintess Athena, gave me the faintest nod, as if to say .
"And one more thing," I added, stepping onto a small platform near the edge of the tent, where townsfolk and visitors alike had begun to gather. My voice projected over the crowd with ease. "Starting next month, Robinson Town will be home to our newest venture."
A hush fell.
"A full-scale restaurant. A place to sit, relax, and taste dishes from my homeland—real ramen, sweet and spicy wings, chicken adobo, lechon, hotpot, grilled samgyupsal, kimchi fried rice, even milk teas, coffee and mana-boosting dessert jellies and even smoked salmon and Irish stew."
Gasps followed. Someone clapped. Then more joined in.
"This restaurant," I continued, "won't just be about food—it'll be about sharing. Culture. Stories. Peace. And anyone is welcome... if you make the trip to Robinson."
Felix gave me a thumbs-up from the side, and Kael, standing behind the nobles in his tactical gear, smirked knowingly. Elvie and Miss Agnes stood near the decorative pillars, pride shining in their eyes.
A noble behind me muttered, "We'll be booking carriages to that town now."
The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of sales, negotiations, and exciting rumours about the new restaurant. The air smelt of roasted spices, baked sugar, and magic. Beneath the fluttering banners and the colourful canopy of enchanted lanterns, the royal capital danced in joy. Music echoed across the plaza. Children ran wild with cotton candy, couples strolled arm-in-arm, and merchants cried out their wares beside stalls adorned in silks and garlands. The Kingdom's Festival was in full swing—and Robinson Pavilion stood at the heart of it, towering with pride.
I stood on the central festival stage, dressed in a ceremonial black coat stitched with the Robinson Town crest—gold thread over my shoulder like a medal of survival. Beside me, Miss Agnes radiated elegance in a silver gown, her voice warm as she addressed the crowd. Elvie and Ella ran the booth to the side, handing out cups of noodles and fried ice cream. Felix and Kael stood nearby in semi-formal tactical gear, scanning the crowd with trained eyes. All looked right. All felt right.
Then I felt it. That subtle shift in the air—like a heartbeat I didn't recognise. A vibration that didn't belong.
My fingers tightened on Ruinfang's hilt. The music faltered. The crowd fell quieter.
Kael stood to my right, arms crossed, eyes constantly scanning. Flare lay coiled nearby, his scales glimmering faintly under the lights. Everything felt... right.
Until it didn't.
A strange ripple crossed the air, like the shiver that runs up your spine when you know something is wrong—but can't explain why. That's when I saw it.
A nobleman in a blue coat stiffened mid-laugh. The smile froze on his lips—then cracked. Literally cracked. His face shimmered like smoke. The illusion peeled away like wet parchment from a wall, falling in strips of translucent magic. I stared in horror as his skin turned bone white, and his eyes sunk and darkened into pools of obsidian. Then another. And another.
A whole of them—guests I'd passed earlier, people who'd laughed, danced, and shared wine—all convulsed as the illusion magic that cloaked them unravelled violently. Their true forms surged forward like a nightmare breaking the surface of a dream.
Beasts. Goblins. Demonic orcs with tusks and snarling teeth. Men and women in jagged black armour etched with red runes pulsing with sickly light. Dark mages whose hands dripped with shadows.
My heart slammed into my ribs.
"What the hell—?!"