~Chapter 4~
When she opened her eyes, Aisha found herself trapped in a narrow, moldy, filthy basement.
‘W-What is this?!’
Was this one of those human trafficking cases she’d only heard about? She struggled desperately to undo the ropes tying her up, but it was useless. Her mouth was gagged, so she couldn’t even scream.
“Feeling more awake now?”
A sudden voice made her turn her head. A man was staring straight at her.
Long silver hair tied neatly to his waist, golden eyes shining like the sun, and perfectly symmetrical features.
‘…He’s handsome.’
Even in a situation like this, that thought popped into Aisha’s mind.
‘But who the hell is this guy?’
Had word already spread that she’d been digging into the lives of nobles?
“I did a little digging into you. Oh, mind if I call you Aisha?”
“Mmmph. Mmm!”
“Just hear me out for a minute. I’ll remove the gag soon.”
The man shrugged as he spoke.
“For a noblewoman, you’ve been doing some very strange things.”
“……”
“Digging up dirt here and there, asking suspicious questions.”
So the nobles had noticed. Had they hired someone to kill her? But she hadn’t even published the magazine yet…
“Okay. I only have two questions.”
The man stepped closer and removed her gag.
“First: Why have you been acting so strangely? Second: Why were you hanging around that bar every day?”
“T-That’s because…”
“I’ll warn you now. If you don’t tell the truth, things could get ugly. No one would notice if someone died down here.”
To speak such chilling words with such a gentle face—that was a talent in itself.
‘Judging by how he mentioned the bar, he probably wasn’t sent by the nobles…’
In a flash, Aisha’s mind started racing.
Then it clicked. This man might be…
“Are… Are you a member of Rune?”
“……”
“If I answer honestly, can you do the same?”
“And why would I?”
“Because I could be a huge cash cow for you.”
“You don’t exactly look like it.”
Aisha clamped her mouth shut.
“The house you moved into after running away isn’t much either. Looks like you’ve been living on the edge in the slums, wasting your last bits of money at the bar.”
He wasn’t wrong.
“You don’t seem to get the situation, Aisha.”
“……”
“You’re not in a position to negotiate anything. Understand?”
Only then did she notice the small dagger hanging from his belt.
‘Screw it. Nothing left to lose anyway.’
Aisha composed herself and spoke quickly.
“I want to publish a magazine.”
“A magazine?”
The man let out a short laugh.
“You mean like a newspaper? The kind that sings the palace’s praises? Who even reads that junk?”
“N-No! This is completely different!”
Aisha began explaining her plan in detail. It wouldn’t be a typical paper. The content was dirty, scandalous—everything that would hook people’s curiosity.
“It’s a tabloid magazine. You know what that means?”
Hmm.
A subtle smile appeared on the man’s lips. He stroked his chin and looked at Aisha thoughtfully.
“So why the daily visits to the bar?”
“As you know, there’s only one printing press in the capital. You can’t exactly trust them with content like this.”
“True.”
“I wanted to meet a Rune member and entrust the entire publishing process to Rune.”
“For free?”
“Of course not!”
Aisha quickly added.
“I’ll give you 20% of all profits—”
“50%.”
“How am I supposed to survive if you take half?! 30%.”
“Then 40%?”
“Even 40’s a lot. Fine, 35%. But do I even need to be negotiating with you? You’re a Rune member, right? Then bring me your boss!”
“You’re looking at him.”
He tapped his chest casually.
“I’m the boss of Rune—the one you’ve been chasing so desperately.”
“…Huh?”
“What? Surprised I’m this handsome?”
What a pain. Must be a prince complex. Or worse.
“Well, it sounds like a profitable venture. You said it’ll be published weekly? I’ll give you five weeks. But if you don’t hit a target profit within that time, our deal’s off.”
“Off…?”
“Rune will charge you triple the expenses we incur by then. If you can’t pay… well.”
What would happen?
Aisha didn’t want to know.
‘No, I’ve got this. I can do this. I’ll succeed. No doubt.’
And if she failed…
‘Whatever. I’ll deal with it then. Worst case, I’ll sell off Leoric.’
“Alright. Deal.”
“Then it’s a contract.”
The man untied the ropes binding Aisha. Not long after, the bartender from the tavern appeared, holding a sheet of paper. The man—clearly used to this—quickly wrote up the contract, and Aisha watched nervously.
“Your hand.”
“Huh?”
“Give me your hand.”
“Why—OW!”
The man swiftly cut Aisha’s thumb with a dagger, grabbed her wrist, and stamped her bloody print onto the contract.
“There.”
He took one of the two copies and tossed the other lazily into her hands. Aisha grumbled.
“Didn’t even tell me your name, forced me into this, threatened me—”
“It’s written right there. Till.”
It was, indeed, written.
“This is a fake name, right?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“Hmph… Fine. Just wondering—would you ever want to be featured as a subject in the magazine?”
“If that ever happens, I’ll kill you.”
“Understood.”
A shame, but nothing she could do. Aisha smacked her lips in disappointment, stood up, and Till said,
“Send the materials to Paul by tomorrow. He’ll get it printed in three days.”
“Got it.”
“And don’t forget about the five-week deadline. If you value your life.”
“I said I get it!”
With a huff, Aisha stormed out the door without looking back.
“She’s definitely crazy,” Till muttered, shaking his head. Paul just grinned.
“Keep someone on her. Just in case she tries to run.”
“Yes, sir.”
It seemed like a promising venture, but all business depended on the person running it. Could that crazy woman actually pull it off?
‘Well, if she succeeds, easy money. If she fails…’
They’d just eliminate her and take over the business themselves.
Thinking that, Till tucked the contract away.
But his worries turned out to be completely unfounded.
Sunday Exposé brought in over ten times the revenue Till had anticipated.
And she achieved that… just two weeks after launch.
