"What is this about?" Avendial inquired, sitting on the sofa while perusing a file.
Although he maintained his composure, his words triggered a noticeable shift in the atmosphere of the room.
The officials, who had been diligently arranging the files, paused to look in his direction.
The mayor himself stood and approached, staring at the file in Avendial's hands.
"This?..." The mayor glanced at the file and recognized it contained confidential information regarding one of the most crucial projects among all the documents present.
The project in Avendial's hands pertained to the printing of currency notes.
"Sir, this is—"
Before the mayor could finish his words, Avendial raised a hand, gesturing for him to halt."Not you."
He then turned to Aecilia, who sat calmly on the opposite side of the sofa, seemingly indifferent amidst the busy officials handling the files. "Miss Aecilia, can you explain what this is?"
"...Let me see," Aecilia replied, leaning forward and feeling somewhat exhausted, given that she had been treated like a mere driver. She had assumed the role of assistant and slowly stood up.
Observing the mayor's expression, she understood he was likely worried that she might reveal too much; it was clear that the Marquess was also aware of this matter.
But who cares?
Taking things into her own hands, she approached the file, knowing well the ins and outs of official documents due to her frequent presence in the dealings of the Free Cities.
She carefully took the file from Avendial.
"It's about textiles," Aecilia declared, flipping through the pages.
As expected, she found Avendial's expression became blank, as though he meant to say he understood it was about textiles but was curious about the specifics.
She continued, "Ahem, I mean, this concerns the raw fabric material needed for the creation of a special type of paper."
"What special paper?" Avendial pressed, fully aware of the file's content.
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He had only needed a glance to grasp its significance, yet he encouraged Aecilia to read the file for a stroke of luck.
Luck, after all, can be seen as a form of ability; in the file, he had come across names he found all too familiar—those of the Williams family, who were heavily involved in the textile industry.
Naturally, Aria belonged to that family, and he noted that Diego's family was also mentioned.
Recognizing their names and the content of the file, Avendial understood what actions he needed to take and how to utilize the information properly.
The reason he handed the file to Aecilia to read aloud was to gently pave the way for his strategy, ensuring he avoided any potential pitfalls with the help of his lucky charm.
After all, he needed to suppress a whole, strong, influential family in City A without getting caught in this matter.
But before proceeding with anything substantial, he needed blessings—those would come in the form of declarations from Aecilia.
"A special type of paper which is used for the printing of currency," Aecilia finally revealed.
"...."
"...."
"Hm, take a seat, Mayor. Make yourself comfortable," Avendial said, his tone composed as he gestured toward the nearby sofa.
The mayor first glanced at the Marquess and then at the woman, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by their presence.
He made his way to a solitary sofa in the center of the room, sitting two hands' breadth away from the Marquess.
"Thank you, Marquess," the Mayor said as he took his seat, acutely aware of the pressure in the room.
It wasn't just the imposing presence of the Marquess; Countess Sertsul's quiet demeanor contributed to his unease.
Although her position as the sole heir and future head of the Sertsul family hadn't been officially announced, most people already understood that she would soon inherit both the title and the weighty responsibilities tied to it.
In the upper echelons of society, everyone was well aware of the Nightcrawlers, the infamous assassin group associated with Sertsul family.
The Nightcrawlers were notorious for their ruthless approach to their work, prioritizing monetary gain above all else.
They had a unique business model: victims were given the opportunity to bid against potential clients for their lives.
The scheme created a perverse market where both the client and the target vied for the Nightcrawlers' favor, with the highest bidder ultimately gaining their services.
So, the one who lost the bid was inevitably killed.
"Mayor, how much money do you need? Just tell me," Avendial said directly, wasting no time in addressing the matter at hand.
"Huh? I'm sorry, I don't understand," the Mayor replied, astonished.
Though his hearing was keen enough to catch even the softest of sounds in the room, he struggled to grasp the implications of Avendial's question, not comprehending what it meant to offer him money.
"Isn't the election for Mayor next year?" Avendial reminded him, emphasizing the importance of the upcoming political race.
Given that various political parties were eager to seize power in the free cities, the Mayor should have known well that he was not guaranteed a seat and must also secure sufficient votes.
Indeed, even though the candidates take an exam to become eligible, they still have to go through the election process.
Elections required campaigning, and campaigns necessitated funding.
"Marquess, don't tell me...?" The Mayor's disbelief was palpable, a mixture of confusion and astonishment evident on his face.
He found it hard to digest Avendial's apparent offer, especially since this was his first time holding the office of Mayor in an election that occurred every three years.
"Yes, I want to help you, Mayor. Wouldn't 10 billion Imperial Crowns suffice?" Avendial spoke with a calm but firm tone that suggested he was entirely serious about the staggering sum he had just mentioned.
Of course, he was not really going to give him a single penny.
"!?!"
"Ten—ten billion?!" The Mayor stammered, rising from his seat in shock.
That amount was ten times what was typically needed to win an election in a city of this size.
'...That's...' Not just the Mayor, but even Aecilia, who had been quietly observing the exchange, slowly opened her eyes, astonished by the exorbitant figure.
The sheer enormity of the amount left her dumbfounded.
It was bewildering to consider that someone like Marquess, who weighed profits, might casually propose such a large sum to a political party.
Nevertheless, she closed her eyes again, convinced that this was yet another piece of Marquess' master plan to take over the royal family.