Konbini Ossan Volume 5 Chapter 13 — Marquis Roosevelt
By invitation of the blond noble — now revealed as Marquis Roosevelt von Waynesvale — Arisa and I found ourselves heading to his manor.
As for the earlier scuffle at the tofu brewery, there was, thankfully, no punishment for me accidentally rearranging the land shark’s jaw.
In fact, the Marquis promised to assign a detachment from the city guard to patrol the area and prevent any further harassment.
That alone made the whole detour worthwhile — the old woman could finally work in peace.
Now, as for our sudden invitation… that was more complicated.
Roosevelt’s keen interest in the tofu shop wasn’t just about civic virtue. He had clearly noticed my and Arisa’s inquiries and guessed — correctly — that we had business ambitions tied to it.
If he’d pieced that much together, this meeting would be about opportunity, not gratitude.
After arriving at the manor in a separate carriage, we were escorted to a lavish sitting room and asked to wait.
Roughly half an hour later, the Marquis entered — now dressed in a richly embroidered coat befitting his station.
“My apologies for the delay, Otsugi-dono” he said, smiling with polished ease. “I am, as I mentioned, Roosevelt von Waynesvale. My visit to the tofu brewery was unofficial — I hope you’ll forgive the deception.”
“Not at all,” I replied. “It’s an honor to be received here, my lord.”
He extended a hand; I shook it.
“Let’s skip the formalities, shall we?” he said, taking a seat. “Tell me, Otsugi-dono — what opportunity did you see in that tofu brewery?”
Straight to the point. Typical of a man who already knew the answer.
“Actually,” I began, “I’ve been considering starting a transport business.”
I explained my concept — a logistics service independent of both the Merchant and Adventurers’ Guilds, cutting out their redundant middle fees.
If handled efficiently, it could make even delicate goods like tofu exportable to the royal capital at a reasonable cost.
The Marquis nodded, clearly impressed.
“I see. It seems your reputation was not exaggerated.”
That remark intrigued me, though I didn’t ask. Best to stay on track.
“You’re correct,” he continued. “Selling tofu in the capital won’t make anyone rich, but the expansion of trade routes itself would be valuable to Waynesvale. I’d very much like to assist you in this venture, if I may.”
“That’s generous of you, my lord. If I encounter difficulties here, I’ll be sure to rely on your support.”
So far, so good. A local lord’s endorsement would make future negotiations much easier — and lend authority to my brand when the time came to sell tofu in the capital.
Then the Marquis’s tone shifted slightly.
“Tell me, Otsugi-dono, are you currently backed by any powerful noble houses?”
“No, none at present.”
“In that case,” he said with a faint smile, “perhaps I might take on that role — as your patron.”
That one word — patron — carried a weighty implication. It wasn’t just about financial aid. It meant stepping under his banner, his faction.
His offer would come with strings attached, the kind that often pulled tighter later.
I kept my voice steady. “And what would such patronage entail, exactly?”
The Marquis folded his hands. “First, I would naturally provide funding. Beyond that, any business conducted within my territories would receive full protection and priority. You would not need to bow to guild interests or local merchant boards — your operations would be granted direct license.”
“Tempting,” I said evenly. “But I assume you expect something in return.”
“Of course.”
He smiled, sharp as a blade sheathed in velvet.
“In exchange, I ask that any special magic tools you develop be supplied to me first. Your work is extraordinary, Otsugi-dono.
…
The enchantments you produce are far beyond standard craft. I suspect — correctly, I think — that this is due to a rather unique skill you possess.”
So, he’d figured it out.
To anyone who’d examined my products closely, it was obvious. My tools carried enchantments impossible through normal means — spells that should’ve required whole teams of enchanters.
And yet, I made them alone. It was logical to assume a special skill was the reason.
He wasn’t wrong — though special wasn’t quite the word. It was a heap of scrap skills, one I’d been saddled with rather than gifted. But to him, that distinction didn’t matter.
And it meant one thing: he’d investigated me thoroughly before our chance encounter. The tofu shop visit, the supposed coincidence — all of it had likely been orchestrated.
Roosevelt’s eyes glinted with certainty. “Your silence tells me I’m correct.”
He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping.
“I value that skill of yours even more than your business acumen. With your inventions, my house could surpass every rival in the kingdom. Imagine it — a new age of prosperity, led by innovation no other noble could rival.”
“I’m flattered,” I replied.
“No false modesty, Otsugi-dono. You are already the talk of the high nobility. They all know of your tools. The only question now is — whose side you’ll stand on.”
It was clear: I’d become a piece in the nobles’ silent competition for influence.
Accepting his offer would grant wealth and protection… but also obligations I couldn’t easily shake.
And the moment one noble’s favor was accepted, the others would turn from friendly curiosity to hostility.
A difficult choice, indeed.
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E/N:
Damn nobles! Politics in business is either advantageous or a stairway down to hell! What's Ossan gonna do?! Stay tuned!
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