Chapter 4: Chapter 3: The ROI of Ruthlessness

Two months had passed since the “Bath Revolution.”

The Pendelton Estate was now the warmest building in the Kingdom of Osgard. Steam pipes hissed quietly behind the walls, windows were crystal clear and double-sealed, and the Duke walked around in a linen shirt in the middle of autumn, sweating slightly but refusing to admit the thermostat was set too high.

However, innovation had a cost.

“We are bleeding gold, Kaelen,” Duchess Elena said, tapping a finger on the ledger. They were in the Duke’s study. “Arthur’s ’projects’ require high-grade copper, purified sand, and mana crystals. Last week, he melted down a chandelier because he needed ’conductive wiring.’”

The Duke grimaced. “But the boy is a genius! Have you seen the new Toaster? It flings the bread into the air! It’s combat training and breakfast combined!”

“We need revenue,” Elena insisted. “We have the glass. We have the boilers. We should sell them.”

The Duke slammed his fist on the table. “You are right! We shall dominate the market! I will summon the Merchant Guild!”

Arthur, now six and a half, sat in a high-backed chair in the drawing room. His legs didn’t touch the floor.

Across from him sat Master Vane. Vane was a representative of the Golden Scales Guild—a man who wore five rings on each hand and smelled of expensive perfume and greed. He looked at the Duke, then at the Duchess, and finally at the toddler playing with a slide rule.

“My Lord Duke,” Vane oiled, ignoring Arthur. “I understand you wish to license this… glass of yours. It is a novelty, certainly. But the market for windows is small. Peasants use shutters. Only nobles buy glass, and they prefer the colorful, wavy kind from the capital.”

Vane leaned back, a predatory smile on his face. “I will offer you 2 silver coins per pane. And the Guild takes exclusive distribution rights.”

The Duke’s face reddened. 2 silver was an insult. It barely covered the cost of the sand.

Before the Duke could shout, Arthur spoke.

“Your logistics model is flawed.”

The room went silent. Vane looked down at the child. “Excuse me, little lord?”

Arthur didn’t look up from his slide rule. “I have analyzed the Golden Scales’ shipping manifestos. You rely on river barges. The breakage rate of standard glass is 22%. My Pendelton Pane is tempered. Breakage rate is less than 1%.”

Arthur finally looked up. His emerald eyes were cold, calculating, and utterly devoid of emotion.

“Furthermore, you claim the market is ’niche.’ Incorrect. You are thinking of glass as decoration. I am positioning it as insulation. If a peasant buys my glass, they save 40% on firewood annually. The glass pays for itself in two winters. The Total Addressable Market isn’t just nobles. It is everyone with a roof.”

Vane blinked. He had never heard the phrase ’Total Addressable Market,’ but it sounded terrifying coming from a first-grader.

“That’s… an optimistic projection,” Vane stammered. “But the upfront cost—”

“I have calculated your margins,” Arthur interrupted. He slid a piece of paper across the table. It was a graph. A perfectly drawn graph. “If you buy at 2 silver, you will sell at 10. That is a 400% markup. That is inefficient. It invites competition.”

[Skill Activated: Economic Warfare.] [Status: You are accidentally intimidating a shark.]

Arthur pointed a small finger at Vane. “I will not sell you the glass.”

“What?” Vane stood up. “Now see here—”

“I will sell you the license to the formula,” Arthur continued calmly. “You will pay us 5 silver per pane sold. In exchange, I will provide you with the blueprint for the ’Shock-Absorbing Crate’ to reduce your shipping costs to zero. If you refuse, I will simply build a road train and deliver it myself, driving your guild into bankruptcy within six months.”

Arthur wasn’t trying to be cruel. In his mind, he was saving Vane from making a bad investment. He was just stating facts. If I optimize the supply chain, he becomes obsolete. I am giving him a chance to remain relevant.

To Vane, however, this wasn’t mercy. It was a threat from a monster.

The merchant looked at the graph. He looked at the Duke, who was grinning like a maniac. He looked at Arthur’s dead-serious face.

This child, Vane thought, sweat beading on his forehead. He isn’t a child. He’s a dragon in human skin. He knows my margins. He knows my shipping routes. If I say no, he will destroy me.

“Five silver,” Vane squeaked. “And… and the crate designs?”

“Included,” Arthur said. “Also, you must adhere to ISO Standard 9001.”

“I… I don’t know what that is.”

“I will write you a manual,” Arthur sighed. “Quality control is non-negotiable. If I see a single bubble in a pane sold under my name, I will terminate the contract and seize your assets.”

Vane fell back into his chair, defeated. “Deal. We have a deal.”

Later that evening.

The Duke was popping a bottle of expensive vintage wine.

“Did you see him, Elena?!” The Duke roared. “He crushed him! ’Seize your assets!’ He spoke like a ruthless tycoon! My boy is going to rule the economy!”

Duchess Elena looked at Arthur, who was sitting on the rug, stacking gold coins into neat, equidistant piles.

“Arthur,” she asked gently. “Why were you so hard on Master Vane?”

Arthur looked up, confused. “Hard? I was helpful, Mother. His business model was sustainable only due to a lack of competition. I forced him to innovate. Efficiency benefits the consumer. I just want to make sure the peasants can afford the windows so they don’t freeze.”

He paused, looking at a gold coin.

“Also, this currency is irregular. The weight variance between these two coins is 0.4 grams. We need to standardize the minting process.”

The Duke whispered to the Duchess. “He’s already plotting to take over the Royal Mint. He’s insatiable.”

[Mission Complete: Secure Funding.] [Reward: Unlimited Budget for Tier 1 Materials.] [Reputation Update: The Merchant Guild now refers to you as ” The Small Calculator.”]

Arthur ignored the notification. He had the money now.

Good, he thought. Now I can finally start working on indoor plumbing. The chamber pots must end.

He stood up and walked to the window—his window. He looked out at the dark, cold village in the distance.

“Father,” Arthur said.

“Yes, my little tycoon?”

“We need to pave the roads. The mud increases travel time by 300%. It is unacceptable.”

The Duke teared up. “He wants to conquer the land! Pave the roads so our armies can march! Yes! We shall pave them all!”

Arthur shook his head. Just so the carriage doesn’t bump so much when I try to read.

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