the cost

The ferry service had officially launched today. Ferry believed this was his chance to become the most influential businessman. After all, he had endured the hardships of political and military affairs, from conflicts to the study of biological specimens. Even though his involvement in the latter was indirect, it was undeniable that his brother's interference had dragged him into it.

"It's been two years since he died," Ferry muttered to himself. "If he were still alive, he'd probably be laughing at me for being even greedier than him."

He leaned back in his chair, flipping through the contract in his hands. Gregor, the Marquess, had drafted it himself—a document detailing the profit transition agreement. But something in the text caught Ferry's attention. A peculiar phrase written

Partes translatio capiet viginti menses, quae cum distributione regali accelerari possunt.

Ferry chuckled. "Hmm… What if we accelerate the transition by distributing the profit from road taxes?"

A loud bang echoed through the room as the Marquess slammed his fist against the table. His hand shot out, gripping Ferry by the collar. "What are you implying?"

"Calm down, Marquess," Ferry said smoothly, raising a hand in mock surrender. "Let me explain. The kingdom has been gathering troops lately, hasn't it?"

The Marquess narrowed his eyes. "Yes. That's correct."

"I hear they plan to launch an attack on the northern kingdom."

The realization dawned on the Marquess. He released Ferry's collar, straightening his posture. "I see… Now I understand your intentions."

Ferry smirked. "That's right, Marquess Gregor. I'm all in."

"Then let's proceed with the troop transfer!" The Marquess barked orders to his men. Then, glancing back at Ferry, he added, "I can't guarantee your plan will succeed… but there's no harm in trying."

Outside the tent, Jissie was waiting for him.

"You know what you're doing, right?" she asked, her arms crossed.

"Of course," Ferry replied confidently.

"Then what about my nephew's issue?"

"Don't worry about it," he assured her.

"You sound pretty confident."

"Honestly? I'm not," Ferry admitted. "But I think it'd be better to hire another noble to educate him instead."

"So you're not confident?"

"Who knows?" Ferry shrugged. "Ideally, I'd want the royalty transfer expedited."

Jissie raised an eyebrow. "So you can read that text?"

"Obviously. I studied there five years ago."

"Is that so? Then…" She trailed off for a moment before shaking her head. "Never mind."

Ferry chuckled. Tch, la, astutior est quam cogitavi.

"Non malum, sed sapientia," he muttered under his breath, a sly grin on his face.

Later that night, Ferry returned home, relishing the comfort of his bed. He poured himself a cup of tea and sighed in satisfaction. "The world is beautiful."

But just as he was about to close his eyes—

Ding-ding!

The sound of a bicycle bell rang outside.

"Who the hell is disturbing me at this hour?" he grumbled, dragging himself to the door.

A courier handed him a newspaper. Ferry glanced at the headlines.

Y.K. Cartography Today – Another intrid cold attack occurred on Old Town Road. Marleyan Stradley suffered severe burns to his face after encountering a towering figure—over fourteen feet tall. He described the presence as menacing, having caught sight of a red tie peeking from a cracked wall…

Ferry scoffed, tossing a coin to the courier. "Another useless piece of news."

He retreated inside, refilled his cup, and finally settled in for the night.

The next morning—

Ding-ding!

The sound rang again, jolting Ferry awake. He shot up, eyes wide. "Shit—I overslept!"

Scrambling, he dressed hurriedly and rushed out the door. The sun was already high in the sky. Panic surged through him as he realized he had forgotten his daily check-in with the Marquess.

By sheer luck, he managed to arrive just in time.

"Hah…" He exhaled in relief. At last, he could enjoy a quiet moment at the coffeehouse.

As his order arrived, he noticed a large sheet of paper placed alongside his meal.

"What's this?" he muttered.

Laughter erupted from a nearby table.

"Look at him! He doesn't know what it is."

"Someone teach him how to read!"

"Hah! He's the perfect example of low-quality human resources!"

Ferry ignored them, sipping his drink. His gaze drifted to the paper—it was yet another news bulletin.

Y.K. Cartography Today – A sorcerer was spotted on Fleet Street, capable of breathing fire…

He sighed. "Why do local papers always publish nonsense?"

Just then, his steak arrived. But something was off.

"Wait… Why is my wrap steak grilled with newspaper?"

"Apologies, sir," the waiter explained. "This is our latest innovation. The printing company sponsored this dish in exchange for brand placement."

Ferry stared at the charred steak, now entirely blackened and dried out.

"Uh… I'll just take this to go. Bring me some fries instead."

Even as he received his takeout, another newspaper was used as the wrapping. More laughter erupted around him.

His mind whirled. What's with all this paper? Why is everything wrapped in newspapers?

He couldn't sleep that night. The thought haunted him. In an attempt to clear his head, he strolled through the city center. But there—on every street corner, in every alley—more newspapers were plastered to the walls. Even as he sat to rest, someone handed him yet another pamphlet.

Frowning, he remembered his meeting. He made his way back to the military tent to finalize the discussion.

Marquess Gregor sat across from him, arms folded. "A 34% road tax increase for a month? That's excessive, Ferry."

Ferry shrugged. "Without it, distribution slows down. You know the costs of transporting goods from the North are skyrocketing."

The Marquess deliberated before nodding. "Fine. But your company must share 2% of the profits during the contract period."

Ferry exhaled. "I'll agree to that—but only if the marketplace tax doesn't exceed 17%."

After a moment of thought, the Marquess relented. "Deal."

With that, the agreement was finalized:

— Road tax would increase by 34% for one month.

— The ferry company would provide royalties to the kingdom.

— Marketplace tax would be raised by 17%.

— The kingdom's distribution contract would be extended by two weeks.

— 2% of total revenue would be allocated to the ferry company.

— A special 67% tax from Northern exports would be absorbed into the new royal profit structure.

The Marquess seemed satisfied, but Ferry knew he could squeeze out more.

"What if we promoted the new recruits?" he suggested.

The Marquess paused, considering the idea before nodding. "Fine. No conditions attached."

Just then, Jissie, who had been observing from outside, stepped forward.

"How about we train Ferry as an inspector?" she proposed.

Ferry froze. "Damn it… She's just piling on more work for me."

Lady Jissie, as always, was terrifying.