Chapter 12: We Are Waiting For You

After flatly refusing Sister Elena and Father Gabriel’s proposal.

I headed to the Renly Mana Stone Exchange.

Befitting its reputation as the center of global finance, the Renly Mana Stone Exchange was enormous and overflowing with energy, almost to the point of being scalding hot.

Under a high, arched ceiling.

Countless brokers and investors were frantically exchanging information and closing deals.

Shouts erupted from here and there.

Papers flew in all directions.

A unique fervor mixed with desire and tension.

It was a scene perfectly described by the phrase ‘a battlefield without gunshots.’

In this commotion, I was probably the only one feeling calm.

Thinking that the unfair treatment I had endured due to ‘Midas’s Hand (tentative name)’ would end right here, my heart naturally felt at ease.

The investment I was about to make was different in nature from my previous ones.

This was because it was an investment based on future information contained within the novel.

If the novel’s plot unfolded as written, Poila and Davia would soon go to war.

The Valentia region, the best mana stone production area, would become a battlefield filled with soldiers instead of miners.

As a result, supply would decrease while demand would surge due to the expanding war, causing the price of mana stones to skyrocket.

Knowing that, and still betting on the price of mana stones falling?

It was something no one but a madman wanting to lose money would do.

And I was precisely that madman.

I immediately presented the documents I had brought to an exchange employee.

They were documents proving my affiliation with the Amelia Kingdom’s Royal Assets Management Bureau and documents delegating authority for fund management.

Although the Amelia Kingdom lagged far behind the Bransia Empire, it was still undeniably the royal family of a nation.

And due to a series of events, I was managing the largest amount of funds within the bureau.

What that meant was.

“I will escort you to the VIP room inside.”

It meant I could be treated as a VIP even at the world’s largest mana stone futures exchange.

I followed the employee’s guidance to the VIP room.

“I would like to invest all the funds I have to sell futures.”

As I blurted out the main point before even sitting down, the employee stared at me with wide eyes.

An exchange like Renly’s would naturally have some inkling.

That the relationship between Poila and Davia had been unusual lately.

They might even be considering the possibility of war.

That’s probably why they were openly giving a customer a look that said, ‘Is this guy crazy?’

I told you, I am a crazy guy.

The employee, quickly returning to their previous professional expression, replied affirmatively and immediately brought the documents for contract signing.

They didn’t bother asking for reasons, nor did they try to persuade me to reconsider.

The swift and clean processing was nice.

I read the contract brought by the employee, took a pen from inside my clothes, and signed.

The moment the pen tip, which had been moving elegantly across the paper, stopped.

A sense of relief washed over me, as if I had finished a long-overdue homework assignment.

Now, all preparations were complete.

‘Finally! I can be free from this official post, from Amelia, from the future of being executed…!’

My steps leaving the exchange were lighter than ever.

If I went by my feelings, I already felt fired.

My successful escape was practically confirmed, my official duties were finished, and all that remained was to enjoy the sweet vacation given to me under the pretext of a business trip.

Having received a generous amount of money, I strolled through the streets of Renly with a light heart.

I visited a top-class restaurant and enjoyed an expensive course meal, and watched the most popular play at a renowned grand theater.

At night, I also enjoyed wine at a bar overlooking the city.

The stress I had accumulated from being unfairly treated felt like it was melting away like snow.

“You seem to be alone?”

If a ‘handsome’ man comes alone and sips wine, there’s bound to be at least one woman who casually approaches and strikes up a conversation.

There were quite a few women who approached me like that.

“Ah, yes. I wanted to drink alone today.”

I didn’t let any of them sit next to me.

It was because Sister Elena’s face kept lingering in my mind.

‘Was the Saintess illustration that well-drawn……’

In the novel, the Saintess was a minor character.

‘I Will Start a Revolution’ wasn’t a harem story in the first place, so there was no need for many heroines.

Therefore, I hadn’t put much effort into her illustration.

But Sister Elena, whom I met today.

She was as beautiful as the main heroine’s illustration, which I had retouched and put effort into countless times.

To the point where, even while thinking, ‘It can’t work out since she’s a nun, so why am I thinking about it,’ I unknowingly kept picturing her face.

‘Did her looks get upgraded in the process of going from 2D to 3D or something……’

Because of that, all the women who approached me looked like squids.

‘My standards have unnecessarily risen because of Elena.’

Then, a thought suddenly occurred to me.

‘Just how beautiful would the main heroine, whose illustration I put effort into, be…?’

Crown Princess Katarina.

The main heroine of ‘I Will Start a Revolution’ was her.

Though it was only for Part 1.

Moreover, Crown Princess Katarina was officially the most beautiful woman in the world according to the setting.

Thinking about that, a slight regret washed over me.

‘Should I have met Katarina before getting fired…?’

***

Eastern Eos Continent, Poila Kingdom.

In the King’s bedchamber, the most private place in the royal palace.

Though the night was deep, King Jorge VIII could not sleep, lost in deep sorrow.

Just as the candlelight, faintly illuminating the room, flickered in the wind blowing from outside the window.

His heart too was greatly shaken.

‘Queen Larissa… My son Eduard… Whose hand should I take, and whose hand should I abandon…’

Poila and its neighboring country, Davia, were long-standing rivals.

It was said that throughout history, nations sharing a border rarely had good relations.

Poila and Davia had a particularly bad relationship.

Wars broke out frequently, and each time, the people of both countries suffered unspeakable pain.

What ended that dreadful cycle of bad blood were two peace treaties, especially the second one.

The core of the second peace treaty, signed during the previous king’s reign was the marriage between Jorge, then Crown Prince of Poila, and Larissa, then Princess of Davia.

By forming a marriage alliance, peace came to both countries for the first time in history.

And peace seemed to last for a long time, perhaps forever.

This was because although Jorge and Larissa’s marriage was political, they got along well and had six children.

However.

As a series of tragedies that no one dared to predict unfolded, the situation began to change.

Of the six princes and princesses born between Jorge and Larissa, two died shortly after birth, and three died after living only a few years.

Only the second princess survived safely into adulthood, but even she died during childbirth a few years ago, along with the child in her womb.

They had six children, but all of them passed away before their parents.

Having lost all his children, Jorge was gradually consumed by the anxiety of having no heir to inherit the throne.

And that anxiety led to coldness and resentment towards Larissa, who was now too old to bear more children.

Then one day.

A ray of light found Jorge.

His mistress, Julie, gave birth to a robust son, Eduard.

Watching his son grow up healthy without any significant illnesses, Jorge was seized by a strong desire.

‘I want to pass the throne to this child…!’

But Eduard was merely an illegitimate child, and illegitimate children had no right to succeed the throne.

There was only one way to make him legitimate and, furthermore, the heir.

To divorce Larissa and make his mistress Julie the new queen.

However, that meant the peace treaty with Davia, specifically the marriage alliance at its core, would be broken.

An era of war could dawn again.

What if he didn’t divorce Larissa?

His beloved son Eduard would have to live as an illegitimate child for his entire life.

And the throne would pass to a distant collateral relative.

“Ha…”

Jorge let out a pained groan.

The weight of the crown felt unusually heavier today.

After agonizing for a long time at the crossroads of a cruel choice, he made a decision as dawn approached.

Jorge, who had his chamberlain summon the Prime Minister for breakfast, said to the Prime Minister in a resolute voice after finishing the meal.

“Prepare the divorce proceedings with the Queen.”

“Your, Your Majesty…!”

“Also prepare for war with Davia. As secretly as possible.

It is as clear as day that if I separate from the Queen, peace with Davia will also be broken.

I intend to turn that crisis into an opportunity. An opportunity for our Poila to swallow the entire Valentia region!”

***

Wellington Port, Amelia Kingdom.

Upon returning to the country after finishing my business trip to Renly, I immediately hailed a carriage.

When I told him my home address, the coachman nodded silently and cracked the whip.

I took a newspaper out of my bag.

It was a newspaper from the Bransia Empire that I had purchased on the ship.

[Jorge VIII of Poila and Larissa Divorce]

The situation was unfolding exactly as in the novel.

‘Hehehe… What should I do first after I get fired from my official post…? I’ll have to stay in Amelia while the war rages on the Eos Continent…’

Inside the rattling carriage, I smiled, imagining my life after the impending dismissal.

First of all…… huh?

Glancing out the window, the scenery was unfamiliar.

This wasn’t the way home.

The carriage was entering a deserted, secluded place.

“Hey! Where on earth are you going?!”

I asked sharply, but the coachman said nothing. He just kept racing somewhere.

Eventually, the carriage stopped.

From outside, someone yanked open the carriage door.

Turning around, I saw two men in black suits standing there.

Disciplined posture.

Straight backs and broad shoulders.

Expressionless eyes and a strangely palpable, cold sense of intimidation.

I could easily tell that they were well-trained active or former soldiers.

But I couldn’t figure out what this situation was.

‘Don’t tell me…! Did someone send them to assassinate me? Who on earth?’

As noir movies I had seen before transmigration flashed through my mind, all sorts of thoughts arose.

One of the men spoke in a surprisingly polite voice, contrary to my expectations.

“They are waiting for you inside. We will escort you, Mr. Dominic Rosenfeld.”