Chapter 152

Chapter 152: The Black Lion War (4)

"I'll make you the Emperor's sword."

At those words, Terry Mansachs finally began to show some interest.

"You're saying Gold Morning will be able to stand by the Emperor's side?"

"That's right. Isn't that a much better deal than being the offspring of a ducal house that can't even compare to its father?"

With my hands clasped behind my back, I leisurely looked out the window with him.

Beyond the city and the vast rye fields, one could see the grand estate of the Luton family.

"I know you've earned His Majesty’s recognition and are now working with the Imperial Academy. That was impressive."

Terry Mansachs also looked toward that view, just as I did.

"But for you to make me such an offer, all because of a shallow relationship born of a few favors..."

The head of the newspaper slowly shook his head.

He knew all too well that the Emperor wasn't one to be moved so easily.

"You seem to be overestimating your position, Roger."

Terry Mansachs turned his gaze away from the window.

Then, he looked directly at me—the young man who had just turned twenty—and said,

"From the Emperor’s perspective, you're just a newly rich man from Nord. Nothing more, nothing less."

That one resolute statement.

Most young men would've shrunk under the weight of the solemn air he radiated.

"You're right. I'm just the head of one foundation."

But I had no intention of backing down.

Because the justification I held to link him and the Emperor was a strong card indeed.

"However, Gold Morning is different, isn't it?"

"...?"

Terry Mansachs tilted his head slightly at my words.

As if displeased by yet another reaction that went against all of his expectations.

But that expression of his would soon ease entirely.

Because I only ever offered solid deals.

As a chief secretary, one must offer nothing but the best to their lord.

"At present, His Majesty is preparing for isolation."

With the same skill I had in that era, I began to speak.

"Though he won the war and elevated his prestige, he's now lost the means to do so again."

Gold Morning, too, had expanded its influence significantly during the early days of the war.

In a way, the Emperor and Gold Morning shared something in common.

With the battlefield gone, both of their standings had started to drift.

"The economy and business are dominated by nobles, and now they’ll try to reclaim their power. To control them, he’ll need a leash."

"His Majesty already has enough private soldiers. So the leash he needs now is public sentiment?"

I responded to his growing understanding with affirmation.

"Exactly. And isn’t public sentiment usually swayed through the press?"

Slowly, I walked past Terry Mansachs and headed toward the area with the leather chairs.

And just like someone who would be visiting often, I sat down comfortably.

"Gold Morning is currently the most highly regarded among the five major newspapers. It’s also the only one that hasn't leaned to one side, just as the Emperor desires."

“We haven’t leaned to one side? That’s a naive thought, Roger.”

Terry Mansachs chuckled, as if amused by a childish notion.

At the same time, he approached the seat across from me and personally sat down to face me.

"Of course, in truth, we don’t know. But what matters is that His Majesty believes that to be the case."

Regardless of the truth, the fact remained: Gold Morning was what the Emperor had his eyes on the most.

That alone made it a very attractive prospect.

“Fine. Let’s say His Majesty is interested in me. Then what’s the justification for connecting us?”

At last, Terry Mansachs—who had been so wary of me—began to ask for the method.

In response, I gave a sly, fox-like grin.

Leaning back against the luxurious black leather chair.

"You just need to bring the head of the one His Majesty has the most contempt for."

The one the Emperor found most distasteful.

Who could that be?

His close aristocrats?

The leaders of the Northern United Kingdoms?

Not at all.

Those people knew instinctively that they were beneath the Emperor.

Unlike them, there were only two individuals who could stand as equals to him.

The Western Grand Duke and the Northern Grand Duke.

Of those two, the Western Grand Duke’s successor would be Helena—a sharp woman with quick instincts.

Which left only the two most likely candidates for Northern Grand Duke: Edward and Eric.

The Emperor was seriously concerned about whether those two could coexist with him as Northern Grand Duke.

“Then it must be the ducal house,” Terry Mansachs said, quick to catch on—fitting for the head of a newspaper.

He tapped the armrest with a serious expression, then finished his calculation with practiced ease.

"You believe His Majesty is displeased with the Duke Luton's two sons."

"That’s right."

I nodded calmly.

"Eric and Edward have each aligned themselves with the Second and Third Princes. They are no longer on the Emperor’s side."

Of course, it was natural that the princes would eventually become Emperor.

But for them to already side with the princes and profit from it while the current Emperor still reigned…

It was nothing short of disregarding the man who currently held the greatest power on the continent.

“They’re relying on the princes and are already conspiring in tax evasion and other forms of corruption. Some of them are even in motion.”

Corruption within the Northern Grand Duke’s house.

Just hearing the words was enough to make one’s mouth water—it was the perfect prey.

"I’ll provide one of those corruptions. All you need to do is report it directly to His Majesty."

I had decided to offer that juicy prey to Terry Mansachs—respectfully.

"……"

Only then did Terry Mansachs realize why I could be so confident.

I knew the moment he saw the card I had prepared, the positions of power would flip completely.

This was an opportunity to unleash a weakness powerful enough for even the Emperor to desire it.

And the moment he took hold of it, Gold Morning's standing would rise from a mere reputable newspaper to something far beyond.

A professional channel that dealt in large-scale political issues.

“So, what exactly is this corruption…?”

The head of one of the Three Major Newspapers straightened his posture.

He didn’t act flustered, but the fingers tapping on the armrest moved ever so slightly faster.

“Before I tell you, I’d like you to make a promise.”

I looked at the goose that had taken the bait, thoroughly pleased.

“What kind of promise?”

Terry Mansachs clearly knew I had something I wanted, too.

But even so, he had no choice but to listen.

Corruption at the scale of the Northern Grand Duke’s house.

And I was offering to help him deliver that directly to His Majesty.

It was like being offered a top-class dish, already cooked and served.

“If everything succeeds, Gold Morning won’t just be aligned with the Emperor…”

And I intended to collect a reward equal to the favor I was giving.

“It will also be aligned with our Erian Foundation.”

Just as Eric allied himself with the Daily Times, I would form my own alliance with Gold Morning.

Forming relationships through marriage proposals was an outdated notion.

A true alliance meant both sides could thrive together.

‘Exactly what your father kept drilling into you.’

Ironically, it was only me—and not the sons—who had learned that lesson.

“Fine, I understand for now. So go ahead and expose the filth of the ducal house.”

Like a vulture spotting a blood-soaked corpse, Terry Mansachs’s green eyes gleamed viciously.

As if recalling his days as nothing but a journalist, he pulled out paper and a fountain pen.

“Shall I write it down for you?”

“No. The more valuable the information, the more important it is to write it down yourself. That’s a principle I still haven’t let go of.”

This was why I liked successful adults.

They were different—starting with their mindset.

“You’re aware, I assume, that Young Lord Edward is involved in the mining business.”

“If you're from Nord, there's no way you wouldn't know. They say it's the largest operation in history.”

It was a project so massive that the Empire itself had provided support.

But here was the truth:

That there was almost no mithril in that massive mine.

“And what if that mine, in fact, held almost no resources?”

“…?”

Because of safety concerns, the mine’s development had been completely closed to outsiders.

No one knew what was going on inside.

Which meant even Terry Mansachs hadn’t known the truth.

“There are barely any resources, and yet they're receiving subsidies and tax exemptions.”

“If that’s true, once it comes to light, the ducal house will suffer a heavy blow…”

He circled the words mine and no resources as he wrote them down.

"Exactly. Especially since the damage could reach the Northern Grand Duke himself."

“The moment this is exposed, the relationship with Duke Luton will likely turn sour too.”

The head of Gold Morning shut his thick lips tightly.

So I asked, in an easygoing tone,

“Are you afraid?”

“Of course not. The Emperor’s still twenty years younger than he is.”

As expected of a man who calculated fast.

He had already concluded that the gains from siding with the Emperor far outweighed the fear of the Northern Grand Duke.

“Besides, the Erian Foundation means you’re in Echina’s faction. That means this is a fight over the position of family head, doesn’t it?”

I smiled casually, agreeing with him.

“Good. I like this information about corruption in the mining business. Now we just need to verify its authenticity, right?”

"That’s right. And there are several ways we could do that.”

The most standard method would be to show up with an official document and conduct a large-scale inspection.

However, the Imperial Family would undoubtedly give advance notice.

Edward would then scramble to source mithril by any means necessary and hurriedly stockpile it in the warehouse.

“But we’ll go the direct route. We’ll take our time and wait for the formal request to be processed before we head over.”

“…?”

Terry Mansachs frowned at the mention of a ‘proper method.’

He too knew that a cunning second son of the ducal house wouldn’t fall for something so straightforward.

“If we do that, won’t Young Lord Edward have more than enough time to prepare?”

“Exactly. He’ll scramble to collect mithril and fill the storage as if it came from his own mine.”

That’s precisely what I was aiming for.

For Edward to forcefully bring in mithril.

“But since mithril is such a high-grade material, it’s strictly monitored. It’s not something that can be quickly obtained.”

I knew the guy well.

As sly as he was, he was just as selfish—he hated spending his own money.

“That’s why he’ll likely turn to the dark route. He’ll try to smuggle it in from outside without paying tariffs.”

I narrowed my long eyes further.

Then placed my hand over the map of Nord laid out on the desk.

“We’ll catch him in the act during that process. That way, the warehouse will be empty, and he’ll be caught without fail.”

“You’re planning to catch the cover-up in action—leave him no room to wriggle out.”

Terry Mansachs nodded, acknowledging it was a solid strategy if it succeeded.

However, there were still too many loose ends in the plan.

“But all of this depends on your words aligning perfectly with reality.”

The head of a newspaper—an archive of information itself.

He crossed his long legs, then pulled out a cigar.

"While the warrant is being issued, no one can predict when or how the second son will obtain the mithril, can they?"

"I’ll handle that part."

I answered Terry Mansachs right away, putting his doubt to rest in an instant.

And just like when I had once been the shadow behind the Empire’s greatest noble, I spoke with a sly glint in my eye.

"All you need to do, Director, is report this incident to His Majesty."

"……"

Terry Mansachs said nothing for a moment.

He wore a doubtful expression, uncertain if I could truly bring down the second son of the ducal house.

But soon enough, he had no choice but to slowly nod.

His final test for me came in the form of a question.

"Then why not break this story through our newspaper instead of handing it to the Emperor?"

To which I gave the exact answer he was looking for.

"If a matter of this magnitude gets published as a special report, the Empire will fall into chaos."

We were talking about corruption committed by the son of the second most powerful man on the continent.

If handled poorly, it could shake the ducal house itself.

"But if we keep it quiet and report it only to the Emperor, we’re offering him the key to undermine the ducal house—and at the same time, proving our loyalty."

I opened my palm as if doing calculations, mimicking the motion of writing something down.

"Think carefully about which is more beneficial: the revenue from a Nord special report or everything I’ve mentioned so far."

Having said all I needed, I stood up from the sofa.

Then, looking down quietly at Terry Mansachs—who still hadn’t risen from his seat—I said,

"Then, I’ll be waiting for good news."

I gave a slight nod as a farewell.

And just as I reached for the office door—

"Roger Julius."

The head of one of the Three Major Newspapers, who had been silently seated, lifted his face.

"You’re already more than wealthy enough. So why go this far to shake the ducal house?"

At his words, I let out a quiet chuckle.

And this time, just as I had done during my time as chief secretary, I bowed politely and respectfully.

"Because I believe the ducal house should be led by the right person."

There was, in fact, one thing I hadn’t told Terry Mansachs.

A secret about Edward’s mining business.

I still remembered the shoddy mining equipment and facilities hastily set up to extract mithril that barely existed in the first place.

And the accident that happened because of those facilities.

Yet, not a single one of those tragedies had ever been made public.

If they were, the damage caused would be on an entirely different level from mere tax evasion.

――――――

As I stepped outside, the young Mansachs—who had been anxiously pacing in the hallway—rushed over.

"Did it go well? What about Father?"

To bring everything to light, there are times when you must hold back a few cards.

"Yeah, the conversation went well. We’re on the same boat now."

I gently patted his shoulder.

And gave him the same wicked smile that so many powerful men had worn before me.