CHAPTER 31: MERCHANT ASSOCIATION

After breakfast I made my way to Merchant Association. I had three days off. So, I wanted to complete all my preparations for restaurant opening within these three days.

The Merchant Association building was lively enough that stepping inside almost felt like walking into a marketplace under a roof.

People in tailored suits, scribes with ledgers under their arms, artisans arguing over blueprints, clerks shuffling papers, messengers carrying sealed contracts — the whole place buzzed with coin and ambition. The air smelled of ink, parchment, and polished wood. Voices overlapped like a well-oiled chorus of business.

And I, standing in the middle of it, realized I had no idea which counter or stairwell to head toward.

Perfect.

Just as I was wondering who to grab by the collar, a staff member in a neat waistcoat approached, bowing lightly.

"Is there any way I can assist you, sir?" His tone was polite, practiced — professional to the bone.

"Thank god," I exhaled. "Yeah, actually. I want to hire artisans. Interior workers. Renovators."

The man’s expression brightened instantly. "Of course, sir. But may I know the exact nature of the project?"

"I’m planning to convert the ground floor of my residence into a diner."

His brows rose — not in surprise — but in the way a man reacts when a lucrative client falls into his lap.

"In that case," he said with a meaningful smile, "I may know just the person for you. But her services are... not cheap."

I waved a hand dismissively. "If she’s worth it, I’m willing to pay. And if everything goes well — you’ll get a tip, too."

His smile bloomed like he’d just been fed a plate of pure gold.

"Please follow me, sir."

He led me to the second floor — a quieter hallway — then into a room where a woman in her early thirties was seated with three young women behind her, tools and sketch folders already stacked neatly beside them.

The moment the door opened, all eyes turned toward us.

"Miss Reena," the staff member announced, "a client for you."

Reena’s eyes swept over me with a sizing look — then paused at my academy uniform.

Recognition flickered. Imperial Academy uniforms were basically walking status plaques. No need for introductions. The fact alone spoke more loudly than any background check.

She turned to the clerk, almost bored. "Did you tell him my work isn’t cheap?"

Before he could reply, I pulled out five gold coins and set them on the table.

The effect was immediate.

The staff’s jaw dropped.

The women behind her stiffened.

Even Reena’s poker face cracked for a split second.

And in my mind — all I could think was:

I am a fucking idiot.

Judging by their reactions, her usual commission was probably one, maybe two gold coins — not five.

Reena immediately swept the coins toward herself with a graceful but lightning-fast motion — in case I suddenly grew a brain and changed my mind.

She extended her hand.

"I like decisive clients."

Her tone switched immediately — professional, efficient — the voice of someone who sealed deals fast.

She clapped her hands lightly. "Alright girls — we have work."

Her assistants instantly began gathering measurement tools, sketchbooks, ink, string, and marking charcoal. Efficient. Experienced. They were clearly used to being hired for noble households.

"Shall we?" Reena asked once they were ready.

Everything had happened so quickly I didn’t even get a chance to say a single proper sentence about what I wanted.

Sigh.

As we headed back toward the exit, the staff followed me like a loyal puppy — his eyes practically glowing.

Expectation written all over his face.

I flicked him a silver coin as a thank-you.

That coin alone was probably his salary for an entire week — maybe two — because he looked like he just received divine blessing.

"Thank you very much, sir!" he said, bowing so low I thought his spine might snap.

I waved him off and led the group outside.

Money opens doors easily — but apparently it also opens wallets way too easily.

*****

Back at the house, I barely stepped through the door when Lily greeted me with a small bow.

"You’re back, Boss," she said politely. "Someone came while you were gone."

"A guest?"

Before I could ask further, heels clicked lightly on the wood.

Reena entered from behind, her assistants following her inside like a small procession.

"So this is the place," she said, hands on her hips as she scanned the interior. "Spacious... workable. I’ll need time to draft a proper layout."

"Take your time," I replied.

She snapped her fingers.

"Alright girls — get the measurements down."

They immediately unpacked their rulers, lines, chalk, tools — spreading out like workers claiming construction territory. Already scribbling notes, marking corners, taking angles.

Only then did I turn back to Lily.

"Right — you said there was a guest?"

"Yes," she nodded. "She said she was your friend. She had the academy uniform too, so I let her in. She’s waiting upstairs."

That was enough.

I went up to my room — and stopped the moment I stepped inside.

Not one person. Two.

Ariana sat by the window with tea, legs gathered politely, her bangs framing her face. And behind her stood a maid in neat uniform — posture perfect, hands folded, expression calm.

"I hope I didn’t make you wait long." I pulled a chair and sat across from her.

"I just got here myself" Ariana said as she placed the tea cup on the table.

She gestured toward the maid. "This is the maid I told you about."

The maid bowed with practiced grace. "Greetings, Master Lucien. I am Lena, personal maid assigned to Young Miss."

"Hello," I returned calmly.

On the outside.

Inside?

I was swearing at the top of my lungs.

’Maid my ass. She’s a full–fledged assassin.’

Her status window had already told me everything.

[Name: Lena]

[Affiliation: House Solmere]

Strength: 56

Agility: 67

Mana: 49

Skills: dagger throwing lv7, stealth lv6, shadow steps lv6, close quarters lv6... and yes — some housekeeping skills sprinkled in to keep the disguise pretty.

A bodyguard in maid’s clothing. Duke Solmere wasn’t half–assing this.

Ariana sipped her tea innocently, unaware.

"So... what’s going on downstairs? I heard noise from outside."

"Construction," I said casually. "I’m turning the entire ground floor into a diner."

Her eyes lit up immediately.

"A diner?! When are you opening? Do you need funds? Will you be selling the food you made for me—"

Even Lena blinked at the sudden burst of enthusiasm.

"Calm down," I chuckled. "Yes, I’ll be selling everything. Hopefully ready by Monday."

She blinked. "Then... what about the academy? Are you quitting to cook all day?"

"I’m not going to be standing in the kitchen full–time. I hired someone. You saw her — Lily. She’s genuinely good. I’m teaching her my recipes — she’ll handle the day–to–day."

Ariana’s expression dipped slightly — a faint disappointment.

"I... thought you would be cooking."

I smirked. "If you don’t believe she’s good — you can test her."

I leaned back. "Have you eaten?"

"Not really."

"Perfect."

I called out toward the hallway. "Lily!"

Lily peeked in almost instantly. "Yes, Boss!"

"We still have ingredients for omurice, right?"

"Yes!"

"Great. Make a batch — not just for Ariana, but for Reena and her girls downstairs too. Consider it free samples."

"Yes sir!" She practically sparkled and rushed off, humming.

I turned back — Ariana was fidgeting with her skirt.

"What’s wrong?"

She hesitated — cheeks pink — then whispered:

"C-Can I go too? I... want to watch."

"Of course," I said, rising to my feet. "You’re my student, aren’t you?"

Her expression brightened like dawn.

She stood up, careful and polite — but excited — and followed Lily toward the kitchen, Lena silently trailing behind with the graceful step of someone who could slit a throat and never spill a drop.