chapter 51
The face of the Marchioness of Moulton twisted when she heard the final price.
It was far too low.
If traded properly, the house should have been worth at least five billion gold.
“Ten billion gold… Are you joking with me right now?”
“How could that be, Madam? A deal this large is no laughing matter.”
“Then explain it. How exactly did you appraise this property at ten billion gold?”
The Marchioness’s voice turned sharp, while Stephan, still smiling, began laying out the details one by one.
“First, the ten thousand gold you borrowed at the beginning.
With interest and late fees, the total has reached thirty thousand gold.
Interest accrues daily, compounded on top of the accumulated amount.
I believe I explained this already, yes?”
In less than two weeks, the debt had already far surpassed the principal, and the Marchioness’s face hardened.
At least that first jewel she pawned had been charged the lowest rate—twenty-five percent interest.
“And next, you pawned the stables and the thirty cows and horses in them.
You borrowed five hundred thousand gold.
With forty-five percent daily interest…”
Stephan’s pen moved messily over a scrap of paper filled with scribbles, calculating right in front of her before giving the total.
“Four point seven million gold.”
The Marchioness nearly shot up from her chair.
Half a million gold had become 4.7 million.
The words “thief” nearly burst out of her throat, but she remembered—it was she herself who had signed the papers.
As Stephan continued calculating, the Marchioness had to suppress the urge to run away.
In the end, all the interest combined came to thirty billion gold.
Stephan assessed the mansion’s worth at forty-five billion.
“Now, I hesitate to bring this up, but since your name is already on the contract, I should mention it.
I assume you did not seek the Marquis’s approval before transferring ownership of the estate?”
“…”
“For conflict resolution, I calculated five billion gold.
And of course, if you wish to pay severance to the staff, you’ll need at least that much.”
“You mean to dismiss all the household staff?”
Faces of the servants she had grown attached to over the years flashed in the Marchioness’s mind.
Most of them had been with the family since the mansion was first built, growing old alongside it.
Normally, when a mansion changed ownership, the servants remained on for a time before being replaced.
But the tone of Stephan’s words suggested otherwise.
“Yes, Madam.”
“Is that… truly necessary?”
“That’s not really your concern anymore, is it?”
Stephan cut off her sentimental protest sharply, meeting her eyes.
“So, what will it be?
Will you take the ten billion gold? If you don’t want to, that’s fine.
For regular clients, we can grant extensions, but if this is the end, then on the set date, every item of collateral will pass fully into our possession.”
The Marchioness’s mouth went dry, and she raised her teacup. Her trembling hands betrayed her emotions.
But once she sipped the tea, she regained her calm.
Stephan lowered his gaze to hide his expression.
The Marchioness didn’t know, but the tea contained herbs often used for mental patients, calming anxiety and lifting one’s spirits.
Clink.
She set the cup down gracefully. Even in such humiliating straits, her lifelong habits of poise remained intact.
“I’ll take it. Ten billion gold.”
“Yes, but it may be difficult for you to carry the entire amount at once. How would you like to receive it?”
“What method do you suggest?”
“How about part in cash, and the rest in chips at the social club you frequent?”
The so-called “social club” was nothing more than a gambling den.
They simply hung a polite sign out front, but inside there was music, drinks, and small groups chatting—it wasn’t entirely false advertising.
The Marchioness flushed with shame. It felt as if her gambling habits had been exposed.
Of course, they both already knew the truth, but this was the first time anyone had said it so bluntly.
Still, what was there to hide now? The mansion was already gone. She couldn’t carry ten billion gold in cash anyway, and if it were in promissory notes, she’d just have to exchange them again.
“Very well. The place I go is called Black Rose.”
“Understood.
Then I’ll instruct the manager there to provide you with ten billion gold in chips.”
She had no fear that the manager might deny the transaction. Trust ran surprisingly deep in such circles.
“How much cash would you like right now?”
“Ten thousand gold should suffice for today.”
After talking of such large sums, ten thousand sounded like pocket change.
“Very well, I’ll prepare it. Please wait here.”
Stephan gathered his ledger and rose.
“Would you pour me another cup of tea, perhaps?” the Marchioness asked.
“Ah, yes, of course.”
He took her cup inside and returned with it refilled, setting it before her.
“Here you are. I’ll be right back.”
She nodded and sipped again while Stephan hurried to the storage room.
“Ten thousand gold, she says… That woman’s insane.”
He grumbled quietly as he stacked one hundred notes of a thousand gold each—the Empire’s highest denomination.
“Should I get the paperwork set up while I’m at it?”
He placed the deed of transfer on top of a square iron plate.
The box hummed faintly, and Stephan left it there while he gathered the cash.
When he glanced back at the Marchioness, her face was glowing, thrilled at the thought of gambling again with fresh funds, guilt about losing her home shoved to the back of her mind.
Stephan looked disgusted.
But this wasn’t unusual.
Everyone addicted to gambling was the same.
The Moulton family just happened to be richer, so their losses looked bigger. In truth, gamblers pawned even their souls for money.
And what awaited at the end of that path?
“Death. Always death,” Stephan thought bitterly.
Having seen such endings too many times, he never touched gambling himself.
He plastered his smile back on and returned to the Marchioness.
“Madam, I’ve prepared the ten thousand gold you requested.”
He offered her a red envelope stuffed with crisp bills.
She accepted it with satisfaction, not even bothering to check the contents.
“And the rest, I just need to go there, correct?”
“Yes. Everything will be arranged for you to enjoy without issue.”
“Good. Then I’ll take my leave.”
With her haughty demeanor restored, she walked out of the shop as if she hadn’t just been humiliated.
Stephan bowed deeply until the door shut.
However pitiful, she was still a client—an invaluable client who could change his life.
When she was gone, he rushed back to the storeroom.
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