"Is that..." Kael squinted from the cave entrance, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Is that a table?"
"It is," Victor said. He adjusted his cufflink. "Standard issue Guild field office. Portable, efficient. They probably set it up in ten minutes."
"Why?"
"Psychological warfare," Victor replied with grim appreciation. "They're establishing a workspace. They're telling us they aren't going anywhere."
Sniv peeked out from behind Victor's leg. "Boss? Should Sniv get the acid? Or the spike pit? Or the... form?"
"No acid today, Sniv. Today requires a different kind of weapon."
Victor stepped out into the sunlight.
The three men—scouts from the Merchant Guild—didn't look up. Two of them were arranging stacks of parchment with geometrical precision. The third, a thin man with a sharp nose and a monocle that seemed glued to his eye, was sharpening a quill with a small silver knife.
Victor walked across the clearing. He stopped exactly three feet from the desk—close enough to be dominant, far enough to respect personal space boundaries.
The man finished sharpening the quill. He blew the dust away. Then, finally, he looked up.
"Victor Kaine," the man said. It wasn't a question.
"Valerius," Victor read from the small brass nametag pinned to the man's robe. "Senior Appraiser. A long way from the counting house."
"Assets are where you find them," Valerius said smoothly. He dipped the quill in an inkpot that one of his assistants held out. "We observed some... irregularities last night. High-frequency magical discharge. Unauthorized spellcasting. Unauthorized counter-spellcasting."
"We experienced a security incident," Victor said. "It has been resolved."
"Resolved," Valerius repeated. He wrote the word down. "And the charred remains of the Alchemist Guild mana spikes? Those are..."
"Debris," Victor smiled. "Scheduled for recycling."
Valerius looked at the destroyed spikes. Then at Victor. "I see."
Kael stepped up behind Victor, looking menacing. Valerius didn't even blink.
"We are conducting a field audit," Valerius announced. "On behalf of High Merchant Elena Cross. There have been reports of an unlicensed commercial enterprise operating in Sector 4."
"We are a dungeon," Kael growled. "We kill people."
"And you sell loot," Valerius countered without looking at the warrior. "You offer insurance packages. You have a B2B contract with the Vorin Trade Caravans. That makes you a commercial enterprise. And commercial enterprises require audits."
He tapped the parchment.
"Refusal to comply will result in a blacklisting. No merchant will trade with you. No caravan will stop here. Your gold will be worthless in the city."
Victor put a hand on Kael's chest to silence him.
"We have nothing to hide," Victor said. "Insolvia Holdings prides itself on transparency."
He stepped aside and gestured to the dark maw of the cave.
"Would you like the tour?"
Valerius paused. For the first time, the monocle seemed to wobble. He evidently expected resistance. Swords. Fireballs. Not an invitation.
"A tour," Valerius said suspiciously.
"Full access," Victor promised. "We run a compliant operation here. Come see for yourself."
Ten minutes later, the surreal procession was moving through the first floor.
Victor led the way, pointing out features like a museum guide. Valerius followed, writing constantly. His two assistants measured the width of the corridors with magical tape measures.
"Floor 1," Victor said. "Standard entry engagement. You'll notice the ventilation. We installed fresh air shafts to minimize the 'damp dungeon smell'. Improves customer experience."
Valerius sniffed. "Adequate." Scribble, scribble.
They passed a group of goblins. Instead of screeching and attacking, the goblins were sitting in a circle, eating mushroom soup out of wooden bowls.
"Break time?" Valerius asked, eyebrows raised.
"Shift rotation," Victor corrected. "Unrested employees make mistakes. Mistakes lead to sloppy kills or, worse, accidental TPKs (Total Party Kills) that result in investigations. We mandate a fifteen-minute rest period every four hours."
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Valerius stopped writing. "You offer... breaks?"
"And performance incentives," Victor added. "See that Hobgoblin? That's Grok. Employee of the Month three times running. He earns an extra ration cap."
Grok waved a bone-club enthusiastically. "Boss is good! Soup is warm!"
Valerius stared. "Most dungeons just... spawn them and let them starve until adventurers arrive."
"Inefficient," Victor sighed. "Starving units have lowered constitution and poor morale. A well-fed goblin fights 30% harder. The soup cost is negligible compared to the increased difficulty rating."
Valerius scribbled furiously. "Resource allocation... highly unconventional... yet statistically sound."
They moved deeper.
"This is our Asset Protection Specialist," Victor introduced Asterion.
The minotaur was sitting on a stone crate, carefully polishing the edge of his massive axe with a whetstone. He stood up as they approached, towering over the scribes.
"Sir," Asterion grunted.
"He... speaks?" Valerius stepped back.
"He's on the payroll," Victor said. "Salary, benefits, and equity options."
"Equity?" Valerius choked. "You gave a monster stock options?"
"It ensures alignment of interests. He doesn't just guard the dungeon; he owns a piece of the success. He has a vested interest in stopping looters."
Asterion nodded gravely. "My hoard-share is up twelve percent this quarter."
Valerius dropped his quill.
One of the assistants picked it up. "Sir? Are you alright?"
"I..." Valerius adjusted his monocle. He looked from the articulate minotaur to the happy goblins to the clean corridors. "I have never seen... this."
"It's the future," Victor said. "Now, shall we visit the gift shop?"
By the time they returned to the surface, Valerius looked exhausted. He had filled fifteen pages of parchment.
He sat back down at his map-table in the sunlight. Victor stood opposite him.
"Well?" Victor asked.
Valerius organized his notes. He took a long breath.
"Operational standards," he began, "are... exemplary. Hygiene is above regulation. Staff retention is unprecedented. Your revenue tracking system is better than the Royal Treasury's."
"I'm hearing a 'but'," Victor said.
[ARMI - NEGOTIATION ALERT]
Opponent Heart Rate: Stable.
Confidence: High.
Hidden Card Detected.
"However," Valerius said. He opened a new drawer in his desk and pulled out a single, red-stamped document.
"There is the matter of zoning."
Victor narrowed his eyes. "Zoning."
"This land," Valerius tapped the document, "is designated as 'Class C Wilderness'. It is authorized for monster habitation, foraging, and general peril."
He looked up, a thin smile playing on his lips.
"It is not zoned for Commercial Retail. It is not zoned for Hospitality. And it is certainly not zoned for Banking."
Valerius leaned back.
"You are running a business in a wildlife preserve, Mr. Kaine. That is a violation of Royal Decree 774. The fine is five hundred gold pieces. Per day. Retroactive to your first transaction."
Kael choked. "Five hundred... a day?"
"That would bankrupt us in a week," Mira whispered.
Victor didn't flinch. He recognized the play. It was beautiful in its pettiness. Elena Cross couldn't beat him in the market, so she was using the regulatory state to strangle him.
"You can't pay that," Valerius noted. "We know your liquidity. You have approximately 550 gold. That covers... yesterday."
"I assume," Victor said dryly, "there is an alternative."
"There is," Valerius nodded. "You can apply for a Rezoning Permit. Convert the land to 'Class B Commercial'. Then you can operate legally."
"And the processing time for such a permit?"
"Standard queue is six months," Valerius said. "During which you must cease all operations."
"Six months is death," Victor stated.
"However," Valerius continued, sliding a second document across the desk. "A Priority Application can be processed in... oh, 24 hours. If it is sponsored by a recognized Guild."
He tapped the bottom of the document. Right next to the dotted line.
"The Merchant Guild acts as a sponsor for many promising startups. In exchange for a small administrative fee."
Victor looked at the document. It wasn't just a sponsorship. It was an exclusivity agreement.
Clause 4: Sponsor retains right of first refusal on all loot sales.
Clause 7: Sponsor sets base pricing for all dungeon services.
Clause 12: Sponsor takes 40% equity in the venture.
It wasn't a partnership. It was an acquisition.
"Elena wants to buy me," Victor realized. "Penny on the dollar."
"High Merchant Cross is very impressed with your... innovations," Valerius said. "She wants to see them flourish. Under proper supervision."
He held out the quill.
"Sign. And the fines vanish. The zoning is fixed. You become a legitimate business."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I return tomorrow with the Royal Guard to shut down an illegal unlicensed vendor." Valerius smiled. "It's nothing personal, Mr. Kaine. It's just due diligence."
Victor stared at the quill. He looked at Sniv, who was watching him with wide eyes. He looked at Asterion.
He looked at the forest, which was his.
He took the quill.
Valerius's smile widened.
Victor held the quill over the paper.
[ARMI]
Option A: Sign. (loss of autonomy)
Option B: Refuse. (Bankruptcy)
Option C: [LOCKED - Insufficient Info]
Victor's hand hovered.
"Quickly now," Valerius urged. "The ink dries fast."
Victor looked at Valerius.
"You're right," Victor said. "Assets are where you find them."
He didn't sign the paper.
He flipped it over. And wrote a single number on the blank back.
12%.
"What is this?" Valerius frowned.
"My counter-offer," Victor said. "I don't need a sponsor. I need a lobbyist. I'm hiring you, Valerius. Not the Guild. You."
Valerius blinked. "I... beg your pardon?"
"You're a Senior Appraiser. You make, what? Twenty gold a month? Maybe thirty with bribes?" Victor leaned in. "I'll pay you fifty. Just to delay the paperwork. To 'lose' the file for a few weeks."
"You... you can't bribe me!" Valerius sputtered, looking around to see if his assistants were listening. "I am a Guild official!"
"It's not a bribe," Victor said softly. "It's a consulting fee. Look at this place, Valerius. You saw the numbers. You saw the growth. 200% week over week. Do you want to be the guy who filed the paperwork to shut down the next gold mine? Or do you want to be the guy who 'discovered' it?"
Victor pushed the quill back toward the terrified appraiser.
"Elena Cross wants to own me. But she's in the city. You're here. And you know, looking at your shoes... they're second-hand leather, aren't they?"
Valerius tucked his feet under the desk.
"You have ambition, Valerius. I can smell it. It smells like ink and desperation."
Victor stood up.
"Take the paper back to Elena. Tell her I'm reviewing the terms. Tell her legal needs to look at it. Buy me two weeks."
"And why," Valerius whispered, sweat beading on his forehead, "why would I do that?"
"Because," Victor smiled, "if you do, I'll give you something Elena never will."
"What?"
"A seat at the table."
Victor turned and walked back into the cave, snapping his fingers.
"Sniv. Get the soup. Our guests look hungry."
Valerius sat there, the quill trembling in his hand. The contract lay unsigned. But the number 12% burned on the back.
He looked at his assistants. Looked at the cave.
And slowly, very slowly, he slipped the document into his own robe pocket. Not the official Guild satchel. His private pocket.
[ARMI]
Transaction Status: PENDING.
New Asset Identified: [Corruptible Bureaucrat].
END OF CHAPTER 46