I Flooded the Romance Fantasy with Dopamine – Chapter 5

Mikhail (3)

***

Warm sunlight poured through the window, dyeing the dust in the reception room gold.

The fragrant aroma of black tea and the sweet, buttery smell of freshly baked scones drifted faintly in the air.

Clatter!

The sound of a teacup being set down echoed with unusual clarity.

Mikhail, who was practically lying down, his body buried in the plush chair, opened his mouth to speak to the woman sitting rigidly across from him.

“How is it? Does the tea taste alright, Guildmaster Valeriano?”

Wavy blonde hair, sharp yet languid golden eyes, and perky ears that pointed upwards like those of a proud cat.

And a flawlessly perfect posture.

The owner of the Valeriano Merchant Guild, Laura Valeriano, sat like a picture.

“Yes, Your Highness. It is an excellent tea leaf. The aroma is very fine.”

Laura replied, setting down the teacup she had only barely moistened her lips with.

Her voice was clear, but it held no warmth.

Mikhail’s gaze shifted to the plate in front of her.

The steaming scone and the red jam in a small glass bowl showed no signs of being touched.

“Hmm, you don’t seem to have an appetite.”

Mikhail said in an indifferent voice.

“That jam served with it is quite good, you know. I heard it was made by hand with berries that grow wild in the forest next to us.”

“My apologies, Your Highness.”

Laura’s voice cut Mikhail’s words short.

Her golden eyes met his without wavering.

“We of the merchant class must never have a full stomach.”

She lowered her gaze to her neatly folded hands.

“Especially when we are on the verge of an important deal like this one. We must remain hungry.”

“My, how ruthless. I went to the trouble of preparing this because I thought you’d ruin your stomach drinking strong liquor on an empty stomach, but this is disappointing.”

Mikhail’s expression did not match his tone at all.

The two glass bottles his hand was heading toward were also completely unsuited for teatime.

One had a vibrant red label, and the other had a calm blue label.

In the center of each label, Mikhail’s personal seal and the symbol of the Far East Maritime Province were clearly printed.

“Have a drink, let’s relax.”

Gurgle~

With a practiced hand, Mikhail poured the alcohol into two crystal glasses and offered them.

Laura reached out with an impassive expression and took a glass.

“Is this… a prototype?”

“Yes, Mikhail Red Label and Blue Label. The entry line and the premium line, respectively.”

Even when Laura brought the glass containing the Red Label up to her nose, the alcohol only gave off the pure scent of alcohol and nothing else.

Even when she put it in her mouth and rolled it on her tongue, and even as it flowed down her throat and reached her stomach, there was no taste, no aroma.

It was the same for Laura, who had inherited a strong lineage of feline beastkin and possessed sensitive senses.

“Not bad, Your Highness. This is the first time I’ve had such a clean ‘alcohol’.”

But that was as far as it went.

She seemed completely unimpressed.

No, perhaps as a merchant, she was deliberately maintaining a poker face to facilitate the negotiations.

Mikhail hadn’t expected much.

The Red Label was, after all, just the entry-level.

“The real deal is this one.”

Mikhail urged her on, pointing his finger at the glass containing the Blue Label.

“Is that so?”

Laura likewise brought the glass to her lips and inhaled.

The pure smell of alcohol filled her nasal passages.

There was no difference.

It was just slightly smoother.

But from the moment the alcohol entered her oral cavity, it was different.

It had a texture and throat-feel like soft silk, and it lacked even the hot, burning sensation that should naturally exist in a strong liquor.

All that remained was the savory and sweet taste and aroma of grain.

It was a smoothness comparable to a high-quality product aged for over a decade in Alba, the famous land of whiskey.

‘This is a freshly made distilled spirit?’

It was unbelievable.

Still, as a merchant, she couldn’t show her emotions, so she desperately maintained a nonchalant tone and a polite smile on her face.

“It is special, Your Highness.”

But in Mikhail’s eyes, he could clearly see her ears twitch the moment the alcohol touched her lips.

A sign of astonishment, or admiration, that even a talented merchant could not hide.

It was only natural.

As a resident of a romance fantasy world, it must have been the first time she had drunk such ‘alcohol’.

Mikhail extended his finger and pointed at her ear.

“Cute.”

Mikhail’s mischievous prank.

Laura immediately changed the subject as if to hide her emotional turmoil, her embarrassment.

“The nobles of the capital are always yearning for something new. Especially if it’s ‘something special that only they can enjoy’.”

Her gaze, despite having drunk strong liquor in quick succession, did not waver in the slightest.

“With a spirit this pure, it will surely become a trend to add one’s own secret recipe of scents and flavors. The trend written in Your Highness’s business proposal must surely be that.”

However, Mikhail was more surprised by her words than her expression.

To predict a cocktail revolution spurred by vodka, it was truly genius.

But…

‘She’s still young.’

If this were the Laura Valeriano from the original novel, the villainess who had been so dignified even in the courtroom, for her to so easily offer up a card she should have saved for a decisive moment.

‘Can’t be helped, I guess.’

Mikhail thought so as he took a bite of the scone.

“Would you be willing to tell me? Why our Valeriano Merchant Guild? There must be many places far larger and more competent than us.”

Her voice was laced with sharp suspicion.

Laura Valeriano, though inexperienced, was indeed Laura Valeriano.

‘There’s no such thing as a free lunch, is that it?’

“The big guys would see me not as a master but as a business partner, and they’d eventually try to devour me. It’s annoying just thinking about it.”

He turned his gaze to Laura.

It was a languid gaze, but a cool calculation flashed within it.

“But your merchant guild… is just right.”

“….”

“It’s large enough to handle the business I’m about to launch, but it’s also the perfect size to play with in the palm of my hand.”

It was an insulting thing to say.

Laura’s eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.

Her cat ears stood on end.

With a rustling sound, the pleats of her skirt changed their shape.

It must have been because the cat tail hidden behind her back had stiffened inside her dress.

‘But that’s as far as it goes.’

Rather, her gaze grew even colder.

It was the eye of a merchant analyzing the situation and weighing the profits.

Mikhail quite liked that look.

But he also felt a little urge to tease her.

Mikhail sipped his tea, choosing the right words and tone to tease Laura.

“Your father, I heard he was a merchant who valued credit as his life. You must be the same, probably.”

At those words, Laura’s eyes and cat ears trembled slightly.

It must have been an unexpected thing to say.

Mikhail didn’t miss that moment and, with a sly smile, threw out his final words.

It was the face of the good-for-nothing prince, with no trace of the seriousness from a moment ago.

“And… if we’re going to do business anyway, wouldn’t it be better if the other party is pretty?”

Laura was silent for a moment.

She just quietly, with a perfectly composed posture, lifted her teacup.

Dalgeurak!

The clear sound of the teacup and saucer clinking.

She took just one sip, as if savoring the aroma.

And she set the teacup down.

Every movement was as elegant as flowing water.

“Thank you for the compliment, Your Highness.”

There was no emotion in her voice.

“If my appearance has acted as a positive factor in judging business value, then that value should naturally be reflected in the contract terms as well.”

Her golden eyes shot a look straight at Mikhail.

“The stake for my ‘beauty,’ how much can you appraise it for?”

Pfft!

A laugh burst from Mikhail’s mouth.

‘As expected, not just anyone can be the villainess of a romance fantasy.’

To not even be flustered in a situation like this, but to put up her own beauty as a product and demand a price.

That was no ordinary nerve.

He liked it. Very much.

“Alright.”

Mikhail said with a pleased expression, leaning back in his chair.

“Then I’ll present the terms, including the value of that ‘beauty’.”

He looked up at the ceiling for a moment as if lost in thought, then turned back to Laura and opened his mouth.

A playful smile crossed his face.

“Two-tenths of the profits. It will go to the laborers who will participate in this business.”

“…To the laborers, you say?”

“That way they’ll work hard, and won’t it be easier to control them?”

Mikhail smiled fondly, simultaneously recalling the 21st-century’s performance-based pay system and the Stakhanovite movement in the Soviet Union under Stalin.

Wielding both the whip and the carrot at the same time.

It was the very basis of exploitation.

“And.”

He continued.

“To the Valeriano Merchant Guild, I will give the exclusive sales rights to this new alcohol we will create.”

Exclusive sales rights for a business that was projected to be a sure success.

Laura’s eyes narrowed for a moment.

That alone was an enormous privilege.

“And Laura Valeriano, you.”

Mikhail pointed his finger directly at her.

“Not to your merchant guild, but solely to you, personally. I will give you one-tenth of the total profits, and all authority over this business.”

“!”

“This should be enough to slaughter the sons of bitches trying to bite the daughter of their old master, isn’t it?”

Her father’s old retainers.

The faces of the executives who, since she inherited the guild, had tripped her up at every turn and treated her like a child who knew nothing, flashed through her mind.

One-tenth of the profits and full authority.

That wasn’t just money and power.

It was the handle of the sword for a purge.

“……The rest, I presume, will be Your Highness’s share.”

Laura asked cautiously.

A massive profit of seven-tenths.

Even for royalty, it was excessive greed.

“No.”

Mikhail shook his head, wagging his finger.

“That wouldn’t do. You know my position perfectly well, don’t you? The good-for-nothing 7th Prince, with no maternal relatives or power base.”

He shrugged and continued.

“If someone like me suddenly sits on a pile of money, do you think the hyenas in the capital will stay quiet? They’ll rush in to bite off a piece somehow. It’s tiring.”

“.”

“That’s why I’m going to establish a public corporation. In the name of this Far East Maritime Province.”

He explained languidly, as if talking about something trivial.

“I’ll just put my name on the chairman’s seat of that public corporation. The idiots in the capital will probably think it’s just an honorary position. They’ll think the salary I receive is just a bribe you’re paying me.”

Mikhail let out a small laugh.

“In fact, they might even mock me, saying ‘that good-for-nothing is being played by a mere merchant girl’. That’s exactly the picture I want. I have no intention of wielding real power, nor do I intend to take responsibility. Because it’s a bother.”

Indeed.

All the pieces fell into place.

A complex calculation finished in an instant inside Laura’s head.

This grand duke was trying to give her all the practical benefits and justification, in exchange for shifting all the risk onto her.

She was the perfect meat shield and bullet sponge.

And the grand duke was the real master hiding behind her.

“……Impressive, Your Highness.”

Laura finally opened her mouth.

“In any case, Your Highness is the master of this territory. If I were to raise even a hint of rebellion, you could mobilize the army at any time and have my head.”

It was a final confirmation.

It was also a fundamental question about the nature of this deal.

“It won’t do to doubt people.”

Mikhail replied languidly.

“And, you shouldn’t use people you doubt.”

His eyes stared straight at Laura.

“I trust you, Laura Valeriano.”

Mikhail spoke the words that Laura, in the original novel, had left as her last will.

“To a merchant, credit is life.”

For a moment.

Laura’s breathing stopped.

A sensation like her heart was dropping to the floor.

Father.

It was what her father, who had dedicated his life to raising the family that had fallen due to her mother’s betrayal, used to say like a habit.

A creed in life, and a shackle that bound her soul.

Mikhail rose from his chair.

And he slowly approached her, holding out his hand.

A handshake.

The 7th Prince, Grand Duke Mikhail of the Far East Maritime Province, was proposing a merchant’s contract, not a knight’s vow or a noble’s oath.

“Now, how about it. My offer, are you going to refuse it?”