It didn't take long for Charles to accept the situation or maybe he just had no choice. Meanwhile, my eyes drifted toward the healer.
He was treating Raymond's wound like magic and potions didn't exist.
Mnex, there's magic but no potion?
"Based on what I've learned over the past three years, potions do exist."
Then why isn't he using one?
"Healer?"
The man turned toward me. Middle aged, with streaks of gray in his hair, well dressed despite the late hour, probably still standing thanks to Remy.
"Yes, young lord? How may I help you?"
"Don't you have any potions with you?"
"Potion? Uh, well... I do, but... they're usually reserved for the wealthy."
Mnex, was that a subtle way of saying I'm poor?
"Not you. He meant Raymond, obviously."
I nodded and stood up.
Charles seemed like he was about to leave, but paused, likely curious.
"How much?"
"For the potion? Uh... these kinds of wounds..."
"Just give me a number."
"Seven solmar, young lord."
Seven? That's insane.
Still, what choice did I have?
I marched straight over to the table where we'd played High Trump and counted out exactly seven solmar. I handed them to the healer.
"Then heal Raymond properly."
Doyle's suspicious eyes widened like saucers.
Charles muttered something under his breath, as if things finally clicked, gave a small nod, and walked out.
Thankfully, Doyle took over after that. I still had to make a deal with him, but it was the only way out of this mess.
As we agreed, he pretended he never saw Raymond or me. Otherwise, my father would've definitely had Raymond executed and it would've been my fault, not his.
To thank him, I bowed the way a noble might bow to a king.
Doyle raised an eyebrow, then gave a dry smile.
"You owe me," he said, voice low. "You'll know when."
It didn't take long to return to the mansion. Raymond had come to his sense by then, thanks to the potion. He still struggled to walk, but with short breaks, we made it to the front gate.
He didn't speak once, on the way back.
And honestly? I didn't blame him. I had no idea how to apologize.
As we arrived, the guards spotted Raymond's blood soaked clothes and pale face. They rushed to support him without hesitation.
Raymond handed each of them one solmar, buying their silence before any questions could be asked.
I used the distraction to slip inside and collapse straight onto my bed.
"Hey, Mnex. Something just occurred to me. If I had died today... what would've happened to you?"
"If this is another one of your 'did you back yourself up?' routines, I swear—"
"No, I'm serious."
"Obviously, my existence would've ended along with yours."
"What? Why? Aren't you coming with me to meet TABAAL?"
"No. Under normal circumstances, I'm a system entirely dependent on your existence. If your body dies, I'm gone too."
Great. That would've been nice to know earlier.
"Why do you think you needed to know that?"
"Because it's a huge burden! I swear, from now on, no more reckless stunts. I won't risk our lives again, promise!"
With that vow hanging in the air, I passed out my muscles aching all over, thanks to the hormones Mnex had blocked earlier.
If Hal had managed to stay awake just a bit longer, he would've heard what Mnex whispered next.
But he didn't.
And whatever it was would have to wait for another day...
I woke up early to Gareth pounding on my door.
Apparently, he thought I'd died in my sleep.
While I washed my face and got dressed, I overheard that my father still hadn't returned.
Also, I finally went to the toilet for the first time since yesterday and let me just say, I had seriously underestimated the value of modern plumbing in my past life.
Thankfully, while I was sleeping, Mnex had taken over. He started sketching the sewer system and even drafted the initial paperwork for our soap project.
Honestly, right now, I want that sewer project done more than anything else in the world.
I ate breakfast alone in my room, lost in thought. This time, Mnex and I actually managed to make a proper plan.
Since I was pretty sure Gareth was waiting just outside, I said his name in a low voice just loud enough for him to hear.
It worked on the first try.
"Yes, young lord? How may I help you?"
"Where's Robin?"
"He should be in the kitchen, having breakfast."
"Good. After he's done, tell him I'm taking him into the city. Also inform my mother and for security... hmm, Doyle would be perfect. Let him know we're heading out."
"At once, young lord," he said and left.
After I finished eating, I walked through the corridor that connected the main house to the administrative building.
It didn't take long to find Raymond. He was in a first floor room, buried in paperwork alongside the same guys he'd been playing dice with yesterday.
They all smiled and greeted me, except Raymond.
I asked the others to leave. I needed a private word with him.
Once the door closed, I spoke.
"Raymond, you don't look thrilled to see me. I wouldn't be either if I were you."
I tossed him the pouches I'd been clutching since last night the gambling winnings.
They were his to begin with, anyway.
"Everything we won last night is in there. About twenty three solmar was yours, take twenty five. As for the rest... now listen carefully."
I laid out the entire plan, Charles's soap workshop, what we'd do with it, and how.
Raymond just stared at me, blank and unreadable.
"You don't want the seven solmar you spent on me yesterday?"
"What are you talking about? That was my expense. But if you really feel like you owe me, then pay it back by working hard. That's all I ask genuine effort."
I paused for a second.
"By the way, how much do you make here per month?"
"One solmar. Why?"
"If you accept my offer, I'll pay you two."
I could see the hesitation on his face, so I added one final push.
"You only get one shot, one opportunity. Don't miss it."
"Seriously? Did you just quote Eminem? What's next, Shakespeare?"
He paused again, thinking it over. In the end, he gave a faint nod but said nothing. It almost looked like agreement.
But what Henry didn't realize was what Raymond was really thinking.
Henry had misunderstood everything. He believed Raymond had jumped in front of the sword to save him.
But in truth, Raymond thought death was inevitable and he just wanted to go quickly, without torture.
There was no way he could've known Doyle would come to the rescue.
Raymond followed me back to my room, where Gareth, Isolde, Doyle, and Robin were already waiting.
And just like that, we set off for the city.
Our first stop was the city square. After wandering around for a while, I asked Raymond to locate Charles's soap workshop.
I assumed it would be nearby somewhere central.
I was wrong.
It was way out on the edge of town, almost outside the city altogether.
We walked for nearly an hour through the city's foul smelling streets before we finally arrived.
When I heard the word "workshop," I imagined something clean, organized maybe even a little inspiring.
You know, wooden shelves, glass jars, tools hanging on hooks. A place where genius happens.
What I found instead?
Even a pig would've filed a complaint.
Trash everywhere. Broken furniture. A smell that made my nose contemplate suicide.
"You might want to suspend soap production and fix this place up first," Mnex chimed in.
"In its current state, anything made here will do more harm than good. Add this to the list of places that desperately need Stink-B-Gone. If only we had invented it already."
I silently agreed. No way the money I had would be enough to fix this dump.
"Young lord, where are we? Why have we come here?"
That was Gareth.
Of course I didn't answer. What was I supposed to say?
Mnex?
To start proper production, what kind of improvements are we talking about here? Can you scan the whole area and generate a list of what we need?
"Already on it. Scanning... done. I've compiled a breakdown of structural reinforcements, ventilation upgrades, workspace sanitation, storage solutions, and basic living amenities for workers. You'll need a proper floor, drainage, roof insulation, lighting…"
Okay, okay, I get it!
Did he think we were building a corporate campus? We didn't even have a stable roof.
"I'll sort the priorities for you, don't worry. First step: clear the junk."
Fair enough.
I took a deep breath and looked around the wreckage again.
So this is where it begins, huh?
Soap.
Today soap, tomorrow sovereignty.