Translator: Nox

Chapter 25

Eh?

The old lumber merchant's face turned utterly baffled. He'd assumed I was jacking up the wood price, as expected. But that wouldn't fly from the start.

The merchant leaders who'd come before me must have desperately hiked the price to pass the test...... only to fall right into the trap.

'The royal aunt said to secure a proper contract.'

If you inflate the wood cost that much, how do you plan to price the Music Box? Just snag the contract and call it a day? The numbers wouldn't add up at all.

Can't raise the purchase price. But that doesn't mean denying him a taste of money.

This time, I prepared the spicy version.

I sat in a chair and crossed my legs.

"Benjamin, who am I? Aristina Bianca Rosen. The only daughter of a mega-rich ducal house. A money-drunk villainess who gets sick if she doesn't blow cash like crazy. I was gonna splurge on this 'useless Music Box' business like the old man said. But can't get materials—driving me nuts! Gotta dump this cash I hauled here somewhere else......"

I unfolded the Elf Cult protest flyer I'd picked up off the floor.

"This place looks perfect."

"......!"

The old man recoiled in horror.

The protest flyer detailed every crazy stunt the Elf Cult pulled.

Marching with just leaves covering private parts. Chanting curses at lumberjacks and wood merchants in the square. Terrorizing stacked wood with paint. Stalking passersby for signatures on petitions to expel the wood processing industry until they caved......

All their terrorism packaged as proud achievements below.

Donations welcome:

Imperial Bank 338-575465-xxxxxx.

This account is always transparently open to all donors.

There it was, the donation account bold as brass.

My fingertip tapped right on it.

"N-No......"

The old man, who'd ignored everything I said, finally cracked.

"What the hell? You saying you'll donate 100 million to these lunatics?"

"Why not?"

With the face of that brainless rich heiress, I shot back.

"I like trees too! Spending on this or that—it's all tree money anyway, right? My dad always said donate plenty when bored."

I tapped my ring, and a magic circle summoned my account in midair. I inputted the Elf Cult's donation number below and opened it.

<17 phel>.

That was their entire 'transparently public' balance.

Of course. Who'd donate blood money to these nuisance zealots?

"Donate now. The Elf Cult needs your support."

As the message blared, I tapped the floating donation account to prep the transfer.

"Aaaah! Merchant Leader!"

Benjamin screamed.

"Old man! Please stop our Merchant Leader! Why rain money on those damn cockroaches! Sign this contract quick and redirect this twisted rich girl's urges to legit business! Sell the wood and snatch back the cash headed to the Elf Cult scum!"

"Uh, uh......"

As the old man floundered, 100 million whooshed away.

The balance jumped from '17' with a jingle.

To '100,000,017'.

"Received 100 million phel in donations. Thank you."

A video popped up of leaf-clad Elf Cult followers dancing gleefully.

"Th-This......!"

The old man's face turned purple. Nostrils flaring, steam hissing out. He looked ready to pop from the pressure.

"Ah, spending money's the best. Guess I'll donate the remaining 900 million too."

I leisurely reached for the account.

That instant, the old man kicked his chair and shot up.

"Wait!!!"

* * *

The next morning.

Silver Dove Palace, the interview venue set by the royal aunt, buzzed with people.

"What the hell! They didn't mention this at yesterday's conference!"

Those late to realize they needed wood samples flushed red and protested.

"Did you get it?"

"No! One place had it but chased me out flat-out!"

"Me too!"

Despite scouring everywhere, those who failed to snag walnut maple wood vented frustration.

They mobbed in protest, but the royal aunt's attendant was firm.

"No entry without samples. You should have read the guide. It clearly states wood samples required for admission."

"This is ridiculous!"

Into that noisy chaos, I appeared.

Head to toe dolled up imposingly as always, clacking down the gravel path, radiating intimidation everywhere.

People hushed briefly to stare, then resumed gossiping.

"Bet she didn't read the guide."

"Sigh, wonder how big a scene she'll make."

Frowning on one hand, eyeing me with grim anticipation on the other.

But......

"Do you have your sample?"

"Of course."

To the attendant's question, I replied confidently and turned.

My trailing servant hurried forward, silver tray in hand.

Eyes bulged at the item on the tray.

The exact walnut maple wood sample causing shortages nearby.

"Eh? Th-that...... Duchess Aristina?"

"What! Unfair! Money buys everything?"

"Hold on—if she threw money at it, she'll get booted anyway. Like that merchant leader with the imported wood black market deal earlier."

"Right. Securing it isn't enough. Unit price matters."

They murmured.

However......

"Duchess, may I see the contract with the purchase price stated?"

"Here."

The attendant reviewed my contract and nodded.

"Excellent. You'll enter right after the current interviewee finishes."

What?

Mouths gaped.

"She passed?"

"How? What trick did she pull?"

Yeah, I did throw money at it.

Shocked stares poured over me proudly displaying my 100-million-phel wood sample.

My nose aimed for the sky.

'Duke Karnel, you watching?'

Last night, arriving home late, I'd been terrified.

Worried he'd misunderstand I'd gotten blackout drunk partying again and drop the hammer.

But the whole mansion was dark?

'Seriously no interest in you.'

The entire estate screamed it.

Still, I hoped he'd see this. Didn't the ducal advisors come? Need proper reports to the Duke's ear.

Still holding my haughty head high, I rolled my eyes at lightspeed, scanning around.

Zikren hogged all the buzz, but spectators lurked here too.

Under a tree shade, apart from the gawkers, someone in a hooded robe caught my eye.

I startled.

'Luellian?'

Tensed for a second, but thankfully a woman.

Glancing closer, the lips and jawline peeking from the hood looked familiar.

Who was it......

Pondering, it hit me.

'Unis!'

Duke Karnel's chief aide. Intellectual, composed, hair always tied to one side—that was her.

Perfectly hidden, but stepped forward briefly to check me out when I appeared. Then vanished quick.

'Too late. Already busted.'

Acted indifferent, but sent her top aide undercover for reports. Gotta nail this without flaws.

"Duchess, you may enter now."

"Oh, alright."

Hoping Unis reports my triumph well to the Duke, I stowed the wood sample in my bag and strode in confidently.

The attendant led me to a room at the corridor's end.

Big desk and chair—like a chairman's office.

"She'll be here soon."

"Got it."

Nothing more nerve-wracking than interview wait time.

Realizing how bad I wanted this contract, tension surged.

'No, don't get nervous.'

I deep-breathed hastily.

'How to handle marketing if we win? New product development?'

Reviewing answers to last night's brainstormed questions......

"......?"

Sudden queasy rumble—head up, floor shook violently.

"What? Earthquake?"

Hoped my imagination or nearby construction, but the tremors were no joke.

Following evacuation protocol, huddled under desk arms over head—vision darkened. Not from shaking.

'What about my interview......?'

To me, the interview trumped any quake.

Already envisioning the notice.

<Today's interviews canceled due to earthquake. Rescheduled later.>

'No!'

If I were a likely reject, I'd cheer ancestral aid.

But top contender now, it'd crush me.

Quakes don't time themselves, but why now?

Zikren, you?

No. Even he'd not quake the royal aunt's palace......

"Ah! The royal aunt!"

I jolted. She was en route!

"Royal Aunt! Royal Aunt!"

"Aaah...... Here! Here!"

Panicked voice from outside.

"Huff! Are you alright?"

Top fool question of the year.

The precious interviewer and future contractor was a frail elder who'd blow away sleepless. Must escort safely.

"Wait! I'll come to you!"

Gathering courage, I gripped the desk and stood. Bag over head for shield, wall for support, headed out.

But......

"Eh?"

Stepping out, I froze in shock.