Chapter 39

Anais served as an example, and I also informed them that if they didn’t heed my warning, I would erase whatever assets remained.

With this, my business here was finished.

“Please escort Her Highness Anais to the palace. … And everyone else, you may now disperse.”

Anais submissively complied, but the others lingered.

Was it that they’d taken a few spoons of health syrup, or were they simply feigning headaches? There was an uncle complaining of a headache, an aunt displaying a lost expression and sniffling, and an old man who lacked the courage to step forward himself but was whispering to the person beside him, “Are we really going to let this stand?”

It was only after I displayed my Morning Star again that the investors began to move.

There were twenty-three individuals who departed.

The remaining three, for some reason, stayed behind and stared at me.

“Is there something you wish to say?”

Not long after, one of them hesitantly approached and spoke. I had an inkling of what it might be about, but I decided to hear them out.

“Mr. Alan, by any chance, is there no talk about compensation for losses?”

This was a question from a noble who had become wealthy by selling knock-off porcelain in an Eastern style.

“Well, this is how one should act.”

The reason I had sent Chandler Syrup before even going public was precisely for this.

Since the matter involved the imperial court, which amounted to national authority itself, naturally, they would anticipate compensation. If the stocks had been made available to the public, perhaps thousands would have acted in unison.

“Compensation will not be provided. You all invested knowing the risks involved.”

“No, what did we know when we invested? Mr. Alan hasn’t seen inside of me…”

“First of all, why did you decide to invest? Was it not due to the extensive warnings given by Her Highness Siena and myself about the dangers of health syrup? Expecting compensation after disregarding those warnings is utterly unreasonable.”

“I’m not basing this on rumors; I have my own perspective…”

“So, did you try it yourself, found it efficacious, and then decided to invest?”

“…”

“Either way, this is not a situation where compensation can be discussed. Even if the imperial court were to offer any favors, Her Highness Siena would undoubtedly block it with a smile. And if she doesn’t, I will personally petition to ensure it’s blocked.”

The seller of knock-off porcelain looked at me with a pained expression.

“It’s truly unfair.”

Saying this, he walked off.

Demanding compensation for lost money may be absurd, but this type was relatively less dangerous.

The really dangerous ones were separate.

“Lord Alan? The situation you worry about will definitely not occur.”

A common-built old man approached — Lord Riccius, the Marquis and highest-ranking investor present.

He had earlier murmured something in agreement with the other investors but was now managing his expression quite well, despite having suffered the greatest loss from this venture. He had lost over 5 million Talers.

He had even attempted to dispel my suspicions.

“Yes, I admit that I did think it was a good business. If not for Mr. Alan’s warning today, I might have collaborated with the friends who just left to start a new venture. To be honest, I’m not entirely uninterested even now.”

“Do you have any intention of jumping into this business despite going against me?”

“Haha. Can one engage in a fight when the result is already decided? … I don’t know what Ephedrine is, but how can I win?”

“Things have turned out disappointingly.”

Saying this, the marquis mumbled, licked his lips, and turned around.

At first glance, it seemed like he had given up, but there was no way he had truly quit. “I’m not being good because I’m a nice person; I’m holding back because I fear your edge.” It was far too typical of a move to disguise something sinister.

Being the son of a con artist, there was no way I wouldn’t pick up on it.

“Lord Marquis. Should you have any plans to put a suitable puppet forward and carry out this business, by all means, proceed. … However, if a product similar to health syrup were to appear later, I will consider Lord Marquis as the instigator.”

Meaning, the appearance of a second health syrup would be treated as your doing.

This left Lord Riccius with a baffled expression as he turned back to look at me.

To which I added another line:

“In order to avoid any suspicion, your conduct moving forward should be impeccable.”

“Are you threatening me right now!”

“Lord Marquis, having already caused the fall of the Third Princess, would I have any further reason to fear you? Ensuring that no other investors act rashly will prevent any trouble. That shouldn’t be too difficult a task.”

It seems Lord Riccius found this hard to comprehend, but I had meant every word.

I simply couldn’t monitor everything myself and it would cost too much of my personal effort. Even if he finds my threats unpleasant and seeks revenge, a drug trafficker must bear this much.

“I will bear this in mind.”

“Thank you.”

With Lord Marquis having left as well, the stock exchange became truly quiet.

‘Of course, there is still one person remaining.’

Professor Bobby from the Department of Magic was displaying bizarre behavior, as if his soul had left his body.

“My money, my… money!”

He had collapsed on the floor, piecing together his torn stock certificates as if they were a puzzle.

When did he tear them up? And why did he feel the need to piece them back together?

Given his disheveled state, it was clear he wasn’t in his right mind. Thus, I decided it was better to ignore him. His eyes were watery, and his mouth was agape as he continued with his antics.

However, when our eyes met accidentally, I gave him a nod of compassion.

Not out of pity, but to throw out bait so he would seek me out when he was completely broken. If he did come to me, the plan was to tame him appropriately and use him effectively. Given that he was a master of Fire Magic, he would be very useful in manufacturing drugs.

‘At this point, I can claim to have rounded up all parties involved with health syrup.’

It had been a few busy days.

Upon closer inspection, one person was still left.

Mrs. Chandler, the face behind “Chandler’s Health Syrup.”

She arguably could be considered the most crucial individual. Both the production and the success of health syrup were attributed to this grandmother.

However, her fate was already decided without my interference.

Even the imperial princess herself had been maneuvered into a corner. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the punishment awaiting her, a mere innkeeper.

***

A hypothetical store selling health syrup.

Mrs. Chandler, who had been directing the young maids while selling the medicine, had a visibly hardened expression.

The ever-cheerful woman was rarely seen wearing such a face. Of course, it wasn’t without cause.

“One hundred bottles only! I promise to pay the retail price!”

This was the unruly demand of a young customer.

A boy wearing the Academy’s uniform, younger than her youngest son, possibly from the first-year class but it wasn’t clear which department.

Surprisingly, he had brought along a group of friends and was making absurd demands.

One hundred bottles!

Since starting her business, Mrs. Chandler had insisted on selling no more than one bottle per person.

Of course, selling in bulk to large buyers would have been more convenient. Perhaps she could sell them all in one go. But Mrs. Chandler had chosen this inconvenient route to ensure the syrup reached those who genuinely needed it.

Health syrup was meant for all citizens of the state.

“Listen here, student.”

“Hurry! If I can’t get the quantity, I’ll get pulverized by my seniors!”

“Is this an errand? Sorry, but we don’t do business this way. Can’t you see the people waiting behind you? If students buy a hundred bottles, they won’t reach those who truly need the medicine. I understand your situation, but please refrain from such behavior.”

“Shit, I’m giving you money!”

It seems polite conversation was not going to work with this one.

The fact that he was a student of the Academy was somewhat intimidating, but discriminatory treatment just wasn’t an option.

“Listen up, students!”

Mrs. Chandler’s shout.

However, the unruly students ignored her.

“Ah, this isn’t going to work.”

And then they proceeded to use physical force.

“Granny, here’s the money! Done, right?”

They threw the money on the floor, seized several 50-bottle crates, and escaped.

“What kind of behavior is this…!”

“My turn to take it!”

Being Academy students, their fighting skills were rather formidable. Even with a few servants trying to help, it was impossible to stop them.

Then they shoved their way through the lineup of customers and fled—running at an impressive speed.

An absurd raid by Academy students.

The once joyful and bustling store was now a scene of chaos, with the theft of 200 bottles of health syrup as an added insult.

Mrs. Chandler’s expression became blank. Though the money had been paid, this was essentially no different from robbery.

Who would have thought that students of the esteemed academy would resort to such acts of violence!

‘This isn’t right, this isn’t.’

This couldn’t be dismissed as youthful indiscretion.

Because if such incidents continued, the reputation of health syrup itself would decline.

Some might argue there’s no such thing as dignity for medicine sold on the street, but that wasn’t true. It would soon start being sold at large department stores and grocery chains.

Above all, it was a project tied to the honor of the Imperial Princess. Mrs. Chandler, who had worked as a maid for forty years, couldn’t handle it carelessly. Her gratitude went out to Her Highness the Third Princess, who had bestowed upon her this great opportunity.

At the very least, it was time to implement a special measure for this.

Of course, they needed to continue their business right away.

“Mrs. Chandler, are you okay?”

It would be wrong to turn away these cherished customers who cared enough to show concern.

Lately, the number of customers complaining of chest pain, dizziness, and insomnia had increased significantly, which concerned Mrs. Chandler.

‘They’re all suffering because life is tough. These are people in need.’

For such individuals, surely what they needed was health syrup! Mrs. Chandler forced another smile and resumed her selling.

…

As usual, business was thriving.

But suddenly, the military police stormed in and began dismantling the temporary shop.

“By the Imperial decree, the sale of health syrup is forbidden!”

“What on earth is this?”

When Mrs. Chandler questioned, the soldiers replied by twisting her arms and restraining her. She was subdued before she could even scream.

The commander of the military police then announced her crimes in front of the crowd.

The crime of producing harmful medications jeopardizing the physiological functions of state citizens.

“But how could it be harmful! I worked so hard to make this!”

While Mrs. Chandler struggled and cried out, she was only met with beatings.

Thwack! The soldiers mercilessly swung their clubs at her frail body.

“Ahh!”

Mrs. Chandler eventually collapsed pitifully on the ground.

She had merely been selling reasonably priced medicine beneficial to health. How this situation had arisen was beyond her comprehension.

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