Mr. Victor is no longer in contact?
The manager responded with a sorrowful but resigned expression.
“I understand. He must have come to realize it himself—there’s no way to convince Master Reytan. We’ve made several business proposals to him, but every time, he’s flatly rejected them.”
“Hmm…”
I couldn’t agree with the manager’s words.
Mr. Victor is someone who grew up in the slums and became the head of a trading company—his determination is unmatched.
It’s been about a month since the day we conspired together.
‘There’s no way he would have given up in just that time!’
Among all our ventures, the fashion boutique is the most promising way to boost my dad’s performance.
Today again, Trang’s Boutique was packed with customers—so much so that we had to enter through the staff-only corridor.
It’s clearly a guaranteed success. There’s no way he would let this opportunity go.
“Miss Berry even personally encouraged the two of you to get along… I feel so ashamed. If only I had even a toe’s worth of Master Reytan’s insight as a manager… maybe he would have opened his heart…”
“How long has it been since you last heard from Mr. Victor?”
I was sure he was up to something.
The manager, who had been quietly blaming himself, straightened up at my question.
“Let’s see… I contacted him the day after Miss Berry spoke to me, and he replied two days later, so we met then…”
He counted the days on his fingers, recalling the details.
“Today marks the start of the fourth week.”
***
Meanwhile, at the owner’s office of Yossel Boutique in Hispoth Town—
‘Hmm.’
Yossel looked at the man before him. The clothes he wore were far from his taste.
Victor Stings, head of the Blue Trading Company.
A solid navy suit with no pattern at all. A plain white shirt without even a stiff collar. Just a single necktie.
His tall, solid build made the clothes look good on him, but still—so dull.
“As the head of a boutique, I normally have the decency not to be rude to someone right in front of me.”
Yossel finally said.
His attitude was starkly different from when he had fetched Victor on a previous errand for Hevant.
And rightfully so—Yossel was the third son of Count Travel, while Victor was a mere commoner merchant.
Sure, Victor had plenty of money for a commoner—but Yossel’s noble family had far more wealth.
Even so, this had to be said. Yossel spoke sincerely.
“If we’re going to do business together, we need to be on the same page when it comes to fashion sense. I can’t have someone without a pattern by my side.”
“…..…”
“The children’s clothing business sounds promising. Kids grow so fast, so clothes will sell fast, too. And when they stop growing so quickly, they’ll look for a new tailor. Right? That’s when they’ll recall the simple clothes they wore as children. Wouldn’t they want to return to a shop in the same style then?”
Yossel beamed with pride at his heartfelt advice, casting a glance at the merchant leader. But the man only cleaned his ear with his pinky, as if he hadn’t heard a word. Yossel asked in disbelief.
“What… what are you doing right now?”
“Ah, sorry. My ear’s been itchy for a while.”
Victor replied with an easygoing smile.
“They say your ear itches when someone talks bad about you. As a merchant leader, this happens all the time. Seems I’m going to live a long life.”
Victor’s sharp eyes curved into a sly smile, then he scanned Yossel’s outfit.
‘A jester?’
He had noticed before—Yossel Cornelian Travel dressed more extravagantly and oddly than anyone he had ever met.
A top of green fabric with bold black stripes, balloon-like puffed shoulders, a stiffly raised shirt collar, a cravat stacked in layers wrapping around his neck, a large pin holding down a voluminous lace, and trousers that clung tightly to his calves…
Victor quickly looked away. It felt like he was hurting his eyes just by looking.
“I understand your advice on fashion as well. I may not reach your level, but I’ll try to dress with some flair.”
“With flair? That’s called having taste. If you can pull together all the trends, you’ll be ahead of the curve.”
“I see. I didn’t realize. Speaking of which—your older brother, Master Reytan, also has an excellent sense of fashion, doesn’t he? He’s highly praised among our clientele.”
At Victor’s comment, Yossel’s gaze sharpened. He raised a finger in warning.
“There’s one more rule you’ll need to follow if you want to work with me, when it comes to Reytan, don’t speak unless it’s to badmouth him.”
“So not praise—only criticism, is it?”
“And who was it that came to me, wanting to start a children’s clothing line under the halo of my boutique?”
Victor stared at Yossel in silence for a moment, then smirked.
“That would be me.”
It all began with an errand from Hevant. Victor Stings had been deeply grateful for the warm hospitality he’d received that day, and sought Yossel out.
From there, the business idea came up, Yossel would open a boutique specializing in children’s clothing, and Victor would provide the initial investment.
Due to the large sum of money involved, a co-signer was required for the contract. Yossel had stamped the guarantor section with the seal of the Count Travel family.
“The Count family is backing this as a guarantor?”
“That’s how our family operates. I’m a direct heir running a business—of course the family would support me.”
Yossel spoke as if it was no big deal, but in truth, it was a bit of a bluff.
In the Count Travel family, a direct heir who owns a separate estate could designate the family as a co-signer for loans under a certain amount without the family head’s explicit permission. In that case, the seal could be issued through the steward.
However, if the Count family were to actually become responsible for the debt, twice the amount would be deducted from the heir’s personal credit with the family.
‘Debts are for illegitimate children.’
Still, Yossel was confident. 1 billion from Hevant, a massive investment from Victor Stings…
Even with Marian coming at him like she wanted to kill him, things had been going exceedingly well for Yossel lately.
‘My financial luck is finally turning around.’
Recently, large sums of money had begun flowing his way. Money seemed to gravitate toward him.
Business thrived on momentum. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that success in this new venture was inevitable.
“I’ll keep both of your conditions in mind. And…”
Victor placed a square briefcase on the table.
With a click, he opened it to reveal stacks of tightly packed banknotes.
“Two billion Kona.”
“Really? You could’ve brought a check. Why carry it all in cash? That’s heavy.”
Yossel grumbled, but his eyes gleamed at the sight of the money.
Grinning from ear to ear, he picked up a bundle of bills.
Chrrrkkk—as the 100,000 Kona notes flipped through his fingers, the smell of money filled the air with the breeze.
‘Ahh, that smell…’
Yossel was basking in bliss as Victor reminded him firmly.
“You haven’t forgotten that this is an investment, right?”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
What, does he think I won’t make it work?
Yossel shot Victor a side-eye. Victor grinned.
“I’ll be counting on you, Master Yossel.”
***
‘What is Mr. Victor up to?’
I’d been thinking about it all the way home from Trang Atelier, but I still couldn’t figure it out.
If Mr. Victor had really agreed with the store manager’s idea to expand the business… wouldn’t he have tried to approach Dad at least once?
Now I was back at the Stone House, lying with my head on Dad’s lap. His sofa was so big and comfortable.
“Dad, aren’t you going to Goldport?”
“Goldport? Why would I go there?”
Dad asked while organizing some cards.
“No reason~ I just kind of miss Mr. Damian and Mr. Victor too~”
“Damian’s not in Goldport, and the merchant leader’s probably busy.”
“Ohh…”
Something felt off. Like Dad was dodging the question.
“Dad, Dad. Look at me.”
Dad always caught me when I lied. That meant I should be able to tell when he was lying, too. There were no secrets in our cozy two-story house in Bonwell Village, where the Quartz father and daughter lived.
I straightened up and sat facing him. He put the cards down and looked at me.
“Sir Reytan, I have a question for you.”
“It’s been a while, Investigator Berryberry.”
“Since you last met with Mr. Damian, have you visited Goldport Town again?”
“No.”
Huh. That was… honest.
My real goal was to find out whether Dad and Mr. Victor had met, but saying that outright would’ve sounded suspicious—
“Have you seen Mr. Damian again since then?”
“No.”
“…Then did Mr. Victor contact you at all?”
“No, he didn’t. Berry, what are you trying to find out?”
There was no hint that Dad was lying.
Instead, he started interrogating me. Eek. Better not make eye contact.
I turned my eyes away, searching for a distraction.
Looking down at the table, something popped into my head.
“Ah, right! Dad, I saw someone in Hispoth Town today who looked just like Mr. Peter!”
“…Peter?”
