NOVEL NEXT Chapter 55
Chapter 55
Sophie
Day 45, Day 5 on the Road
Kronfeldt
The Builder’s Guild is home to many offices. Representatives from masons, carpenters, and teamsters form various groups that bid for contracts. Together, they make up a collective guild, paying dues for the building but still competing fiercely for jobs.
I sat in the office of a Red Fox Construction Company representative. Besides offering contracts, Red Fox Construction managed deeds for unsold, repossessed, or newly constructed buildings in town and the surrounding area. We discussed a lease agreement for an empty lot that Red Fox had repossessed after the previous tenant defaulted on the loan of their construction agreement. And of course, tea would be served during our negotiations—my favorite Thornhill blend, naturally.
After all, you can’t strike a deal without some refreshment, right?
“Twenty Seconds for the month,” the red fox representative said, his tone calm.
I had managed to negotiate him down from 30 Seconds to 20. I wasn’t paying in Seconds. I wanted to use Firsts to take advantage of my Currency Exchange skill. Plus, I had plans to hoard my Seconds. The fox sipped his tea and studied me with a speculative look.
I handed over the two Firsts, and he passed me a deed card, which I slipped into my palm with practiced ease.
Lot Deed - 1 Month Lease
20 x 20
5 - A
Celebration Street
Interesting. Bianca hasn’t unlocked this Deed feature in Thornhill yet.
“I’m curious… how much is it to buy the lot?” I asked.
If there’s one thing I can't stand, it’s renting.
“It’s not a price you can afford, I’m afraid,” he replied.
Sigh. Why do they always underestimate me?
“Try me,” I said, smiling behind my rabbit mask.
“100 Firsts.”
Maybe I can’t afford it yet, but soon.
With the lot lease purchase, the town treasury now held:
8 First Mints
92 Second Mints
75 Third Mints
Total Value: 1795 Third Mints (Fair Market Value)
After another round of Gachapon tonight and more tea sales, we’ll be a bit closer to reaching our goals here.
“Let’s make a bet,” I suggested. “If I can get you 100 Firsts by the end of the day, you’ll sell me the lot for 90 Firsts, minus my lease fee for the month.”
“So you want it for 88 Firsts? Is that what you’re saying?” The fox sipped his tea, studying me with a speculative look. “What’s stopping you from having the 100 Firsts already and just trying for an easy discount?”
I reached beneath the desk, pulling out my contract card to draft a proposal. The fox raised an eyebrow, read the contract, then smiled slyly.
“So, if you don’t earn 100 Firsts by the end of the day, you’ll pay me 5 Firsts?” He scratched his chin, considering. “Fine. I need to get that property off the books, anyway.”
“We have a deal,” I said, watching him sign it with my magical quill before handing it over for me to do the same.
“I must say, this is fine tea,” he remarked. “May I ask where you acquired it?”
“Oh, a little trading establishment called the East India Trading Company. They import the finest products from around the world.”
“Really? I’ll have to send a runner to ask around about that,” the fox mused.
"Pleasure doing business with you," I said, rising and offering a handshake. But in Kronfeldt, handshakes weren’t the usual way to close deals, and he simply stared blankly at my gloved hand.
With a nod, I sent him off to inspect my newly acquired lot. A blue line marked the perimeter of the abandoned space, a few boxes scattered about, but otherwise, it was empty.
At the docks, I found three sailors standing around, looking for work. I paid each of them a Third to clean the lot until it gleamed. After that, I spent 3 First Mints on furniture, flowers, and a lockbox to spruce up the lot. At the general store, I picked up a jar of honey, a scale, and a white fox mask.
The final touch was a sign-out front, which I had a local woodcarver etched and paint: White Fox Exchange and Loans.
Next, I dispatched a runner to several contacts I had made at the Bordello, requesting a meeting over tea. The prominent society women couldn’t resist; at the moment, the only ones with tea bags were one madame at the bordello and me.
My first client was a plump rabbit lady with graying fur and weathered eyes. Age was hard to gauge age among the beastkin, but it was clear she was an older woman.
What surprised me wasn’t her, but her assistant—a human. The first one I’d seen in town. An old butler type, with gray hair and a long gray mustache, wearing a metal collar around his neck. I had a mini freakout inside, but I remained calm on the outside.
What on earth was a human doing here, in a town full of furries?
Control yourself, Sophie. Close the deal. Focus on the deal.
“Oh… is that you, Lois?” the plump rabbit lady, Hazelpelt, said, recognizing me behind my white fox mask. “You have a new mask, I see.”
Lois was the pseudonym I used to keep my true identity hidden. I had worn a rabbit mask before—probably more familiar to Hazelpelt. I’d spent a lot of time socializing with her and her husband at the Bordello, who had a voracious appetite for the place, the food, and the sweets. They owned a horse farm that bred horses for the Duke and the noble folk of the duchy.
“Yes… I find this suits me better. Now, Hazel, I’m here to discuss an investment opportunity.”
“Please, Lois… I’ve been through these scams so many times. My husband and I didn’t get rich by throwing money away on whatever schemes come our way,” she said, eyeing me with suspicion. “But if you want to talk tea sets and tea, I might be willing to pay a finder’s fee for that.”
At the mention of tea, one of my “assistants,” a female otter sailor wearing a white fox mask, came over with one of my C-tier teapots and some boiling water. Hazelpelt stared in a sort of hypnotic daze as I poured the tea into her cup, which I then pushed toward her.
Her fingers shook as she nodded in thanks and took a sip.
Anika’s work always amazed me. The tea was infused with dried firecracker berries and other herbs to boost its effects. The farmers were already grafting new bushes to ensure we could meet future demands.
“Mmm… that’s quite lovely. Quite lovely indeed,” Hazelpelt sighed, her shoulder visibly relaxing. “Soothes the joints.”
“Hazel, the securities I’m offering are guaranteed. By Void Contract. All it takes is an investment of 100 Firsts, and you’ll receive 10 Firsts by the end of the month. A ten percent return, with ZERO risk.”
“Darling… you know what they say about something that sounds too good to be true…” Hazel sipped contentedly, though a flicker of curiosity sparked in her eyes, silently beckoning me to continue.
I pulled out the pre-made contract, ready for her doubts.
Bond Agreement
Title: Bond of the White Fox Exchange and Loans
Price of Bond: 1005 Seconds (5 Second Transaction Fee)
Return on Bond: 10 Firsts, to be paid within 30 Business Days of the bond’s maturity
Repayment of Principal: 100 Firsts
Guarantor: White Fox Exchange and Loans
Holder: _____________
Collateral: 100 units of Firecracker Berry Tea, held as security for the bond
Terms of Agreement:
Issuance: The bond shall be issued upon receipt of the full payment of 1005 Seconds.
Maturity: The bond shall mature 30 Business Days from the date of issuance. At maturity, the Holder will receive a return of 10 Firsts.
Repayment: Upon maturity, the bondholder will be repaid the principal amount of 100 Firsts (equivalent to 1000 Seconds) along with the return of 10 Firsts.
Collateral Assurance:
The collateral of 100 units of Firecracker Berry Tea shall be held as security against the bond.
If the White Fox Exchange and Loans fails to fulfill the repayment of the bond as agreed, the collateral shall be transferred to the Holder as compensation.
Signatures:
_______________________________________
_______________________________________
The White Fox
White Fox Exchange and Loans
[Name of Holder]
Bondholder
Date of Agreement: [Fira(May) 4, 911 IE]
Date of Maturity: [Voss(June) 4, 911 IE]
My client read the contract, her eyes lighting up at the collateral. “100 units of this marvelous tea?”
I nodded toward my assistant, who brought out a large sack of tea leaves scattered with dried firecracker berries from my portable wagon. The otter opened it, letting the rich aroma waft toward the rabbit. Her eyes gleamed like she’d stumbled upon a pile of gold.
“You want it paid in Seconds? Why Seconds?” Hazel asked, sounding suspicious.
“It’s just easier for a bank to lend out money in Seconds and Thirds,” I answered, sounding casual as if it were no big deal.
“Hmm… how many could I buy? This sounds too good to pass up, especially with a Void contract guaranteeing it.” Hazel said, nodding. “Cyric, pay this woman 2010 Seconds.”
“Apologies, Master. We find ourselves lacking in Seconds at the moment. Shall I venture to the Banking Guild to procure some on your behalf?” The human butler bowed his head subserviently.
Master? Between the collar and the title, either this was some kinky sex fetish, or we were in for a whole lot of trouble.
I instinctively pulled my leather gloves tighter and adjusted my face mask, feeling exposed.
“Yes, and stop by the bakery while you’re at it, darling. Pick me up some of those honeybuns I like so much. They’d go great with this tea,” the rabbit said.
Cyric nodded and rode off, leaving me with my client. We spent the next half hour discussing the latest town gossip and events, but my curiosity was gnawing at me. I had to ask about the elephant in the room.
“How did you come to have a Chattel slave?” I asked, bluntly.
Hazel took a sip of tea and smiled knowingly. “Cyric? I purchased him at the Mercenary Guild some ten years ago. He’s been with me ever since. If you’re asking if he’s for sale, the answer is no.”
Just a casual conversation about slavery. Nothing too unusual, I suppose.
“As you can probably tell from my mask and accent, I come from out of town. How does one procure a slave around here?” I asked, feeling like I was about to get an answer I wasn’t going to like.
“You have to wait until the Mercenaries capture slavers and masters. Slavers roam the frontiers, searching for farms and villages where freeborn Chattel roam. Ah, that reminds me—I've heard word that the Guild Hall has a few Chattel for sale as we speak. But be warned, they’re not a fine lot, if I’m to be truthful.”
“So I take it… the rulers here don’t either encourage or discourage slavery?” I asked, guessing that they had a queen given their currency.
“Seraphina? Ah, she cares naught for the Chattel. She’s well aware that the Empire of Auriel sends its agents, disguised as mere raiders, to her lands to seize slaves for the North. But she'll not raise a hand in protest. No, she's content to hunt down these miscreants, reclaiming their ill-gotten spoils. Of course, Auriel will deny any involvement—claiming it's but a band of rogue cutthroats chasing after gold," Hazel said with a quiet chuckle, sipping her tea with a look of satisfaction.
I made a mental note to tell James and Orion about this. Normally, I wouldn’t care much about global politics, but becoming a slave was definitely not on my list of to-dos.
When Cyric returned with the honeybuns and the required Seconds, I sold Hazel two bonds in exchange for 2010 Seconds. She greedily took the Contract cards, and just like that, we were linked. In 30 days, I’d need to hand over 10 Firsts and her initial investment. But by then, it would be chump change for me.
I briefly entertained the idea of running a Ponzi scheme—getting more investors, paying off the first ones with new money. But I knew that wouldn’t work in the long run. Eventually, people would catch on, and the only way to stay ahead was to provide real value.
A strong Kronfeldt meant a thriving Thornhill, and that meant I could thrive, too. Sure, I could be a parasite if I wanted, and people probably already saw me that way, but I needed my commission to push this market forward.
In my previous world, the rich were already well-established. You’d have to have extreme luck—be born into a wealthy family like the Waltons or get in early on some killer tech like Apple or Google—to make billions. Despite that, I’d still made plenty of money, after a nose job, some ambition, and a decent following—but I’d never reached the stratosphere my mentor had. When she showed me her bank account, I realized we were on completely different levels. I was thinking about owning sports cars. She was thinking about owning sports teams.
Here, though? With my exploitative magic powers, I could be whoever I wanted. The next Rothschild, Carnegie, JP Morgan, or Warren Buffett. This world was my oyster.
By the end of the day, I had sold 7 more bonds, bringing my capital to 9045 Seconds, not including the town’s fund. I was on the hook for the same amount, though—borrowed capital. The wealthy ladies who bought the bonds couldn’t help but brag to their friends about the great deal they’d just gotten, and word spread like wildfire. It was like an MLM, nothing empowered people more than bragging to their friends about making “smart” investments, and nothing was more satisfying than seeing the ripple effects take hold. Only this time, the “scam” would actually pay. I would get them their investment back while making a killer profit with the capital.
The first person I approached with this newfound capital was the Fox realtor. His eyes nearly popped out when I bought out the shop for 880 Seconds. That was one problem solved. While I was there, I also bought two more properties from two different representatives to not raise too much suspicion. One would be my main storefront—the East India Trading Company, specializing in the sale and shipping of unique foreign luxuries, purchased for 900 Seconds. A couple of Thirds later, I hired three more free workers at the docks to clean it up and set it up.
The second was a shipping company, Hanseatic Limited. This would be my secret company, conducting business only with the East India Trading Company to keep the links to Thornhill under wraps. The total cost was 1000 Seconds.
When I returned to the bank, several people were waiting outside, all referred by previous clients. After a few more hours of bond sales, I had racked up 17 bonds and 14,305 Seconds in total.
My plan was beginning to take shape. Runners from the Banking guilds were dispatched left and right, searching for places to exchange large sums of Seconds, and soon enough, I would be answering their calls. The rich and the lenders in this town were running out of Seconds, and I was about to reap the rewards of the exchange rate that I set.
It almost felt unfair. No SEC and no Securities Act. Making money would be easy. In a world without securities regulations, all you’d need to do is figure out which rules are enforced in a modern world and then break them here. That and have a magical Merchant class that can tip the scales.
Taking a break, I locked up my stores and flipped the closed sign. My next stop was the Mercenary Guild, having received a tip that they were selling Chattel. The whole human slavery situation still weighed heavily on me, like a guillotine hovering above my head, waiting for the right moment to drop. I had to find out for myself.
I reached the Guild district near the Mercenary Guild halls and found a scene unfolding: a brown-furred rabbit was in a heated argument with a rat guard. The rabbit was in full 'Moses mode,' repeatedly shouting, 'Let my people go!' and demanding freedom for the chattel, whom I knew, beneath his glamor, to be his human kin.
Sighing, I stepped forward to aid James, who was clearly in the middle of the negotiation. Time to work my magic and strike yet another deal—this time, in the murky world of human bondage.