Roberto, now a mber of the Rothschild family’s intelligence division, once part of a re information guild, was pushing himself to his limits, his strength wrung out like a rag.
“Ugh… Nineteen!” he groaned, struggling to complete exercise number eight, lying on his back with arms stretched out, only his lower body moving.
After all the extre drills they had been through, calling this part a “cool down” made him question if his instructor was even human.
But he knew that any complaint would earn him a swift correction from the dreaded “discipline rod,” ted out with what they called “the love of tough teaching.”
‘Please, just don’t make us hear that cursed last chant…’
“….”
Fortunately, this ti the dreaded chant didn’t co.
Roberto thanked the heavens that, at least today, no idiot had done sothing to trigger it.
“All, on your feet!”
The trainees rose, covered in dirt, from their positions.
Roberto was grateful to see that the brutal day’s training had co to an end.
Though he’d still be rolling around tomorrow like a pig in a mud pit, he decided to block that dreadful thought from his mind for now.
“You have fifteen minutes to wash up, change, and gather in front of the ss hall.”
“Yes, sir!”
Without a word of complaint, Roberto and his fellow soldiers, future agents of the Rothschild family, sprinted off to clean up.
They had no energy left to even talk, and with ti short, they had to rinse themselves, wipe off with a cloth, and change quickly.
With their minds so focused on the routine, they had no space for thoughts of family or anything else.
‘If I’m late to assembly, I’ll be doing calisthenics for at least an hour.’
They rushed to wash up and barely made it in ti.
“At this rate, we’ll be dead before we even start the real work.”
The instructors led Roberto and the others to the ss hall as soon as they arrived.
Despite the harsh training, smiles appeared on the faces of the trainees—at least the food here was excellent.
Roberto could already feel his mouth watering.
“Take your trays and plates, line up in two lines, and collect your al. If anyone starts eating before being seated like that idiot the other day, that person will spend a ‘hot night’ with after the al.”
By “hot night,” he didn’t an anything improper. It simply ant that while others enjoyed rest and wrote letters to their families, the unlucky one would be doing grueling exercises out in the moonlight.
Just thinking about it gave him chills.
‘The first week, they had us rolling around at night for all kinds of infractions…’
Coming from the slums, where order and discipline were nonexistent, they had scoffed at rules like “don’t make noise.”
They hadn’t started riots for booze and money as they used to, but they had ignored instructions to keep quiet.
For their trouble, Lupo and the other instructors had assigned them intense drills under the moonlight.
A few fools had even tried to protest but were swiftly subdued by Lupo, who, despite his age, had them pinned in seconds.
They were then pushed to their limits—right to the edge.
“They were driven nearly to death.”
If anyone seed like they might collapse, the instructor would pull them out for a break; anyone who could be pushed further would be given the choice to either face the “discipline rod” or keep running.
Reflecting on this, Roberto sat down instinctively.
Then Lupo, the head instructor, called out loudly.
“This al was made possible by the Rothschild family’s resources, so eat every bit with gratitude!”
“With gratitude!”
Roberto looked down at his al.
Chicken stew, white bread made from wheat, baked beans with at—delicacies he could only dream of back in the slums.
Here, they were served als like this three tis a day.
The training might have been brutal enough to make him consider running away several tis a day, but…
‘Could we ever have eaten like this without the Baron?’
Absolutely not.
Following the Baron’s path ant his family and he could eat like this every day from now on.
With gratitude in his heart, Roberto ate every last drop of his al.
Usually, after a al, they would be sent back for individual maintenance and rest, but today there was no such order.
Having their break ti interrupted ant either soone had ssed up significantly, or there was good news.
‘What’s going on?’
“All, attention!”
Everyone’s eyes turned toward the instructor.
“I’ve just received so joyous news! Roberto, congratulations.”
Roberto was baffled to receive sudden congratulations.
“Uh… for what, sir?”
“Your wife is pregnant. Congratulations on becoming a father.”
The instructor clapped him on the shoulder.
Tears began to fall from Roberto’s eyes.
He had been born in the slums, resigned to a life rotting away in filth, but the Rothschild Baron had given him a completely new life.
He had never thought he’d be able to hold his own child.
“Is it true?”
“It’s news from the won’s association. Here, a letter from your wife herself.”
Fabio had organized the wives of the agents into an association for support and protection, given that the agents had many restrictions placed on them.
For the won, who weren’t burdened with harsh obligations, it was simply a close-knit community, and they welcod it.
“You can read the letter later. Congratulations again.”
Tears continued to stream from Roberto’s eyes.
Back in the slums, he couldn’t have even dread of having children or marrying; he had simply scrabbled to survive one day at a ti.
Yet a wave of worry washed over him as well.
His wife would have difficulty moving around after giving birth, and without him, who would help?
But he couldn’t desert from training…
‘What am I supposed to do?’
While it was joyful news, the concerns were piling up.
“Don’t worry about your wife being alone. The association will provide so support, and the Baron will ensure she’s looked after.”
Technically, Fabio didn’t personally handle the individual affairs of each agent’s family.
But he had set up family support systems for them.
“Your family will receive a chicken each week, along with other provisions like eggs. When it’s ti for the birth, a midwife trained at the dici Hospital will assist.”
Though Roberto had lived as a commoner, he knew about the dici Hospital.
‘Even nobles have to wait in line there.’
And now a midwife from that hospital would assist with the birth?
Roberto, who had only known life in the slums, could hardly comprehend it.
“After the birth, a maid will regularly assist with chores and provide nourishnt until she recovers.”
These maids weren’t like noble housemaids but widows from nearby.
“They’ll even provide seaweed, good for her health. She’ll be in good hands, even better than if you were there yourself.”
“Thank you!”
Lupo laughed, lightly tapping him on the head.
“It’s all thanks to the Baron’s grace, not mine. Looks like you still need more ‘loyalty training.’”
“My apologies!”
“And does apologizing end your training?”
“No, sir!”
Though it was typically said in chastisent, both were genuinely happy, laughing together.
“I’ll keep an eye on you during today’s loyalty training, so do your best.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Alright, if everyone’s done eating, prepare for the loyalty session imdiately.”
Sebastian approached, carrying a report on the expenses for the agents.
“Baron, are you certain it’s worth spending so much on these n?”
The guild had brought in 80 people, with annual maintenance costs amounting to over two gold coins per head—a considerable sum for ordinary employees.
“Sebastian, loyalty can indeed be bought with money.”
If you demand overti while paying soone pennies, you’re a villain. But if you double their wages in exchange for a bit of overti, do you think they’ll see you as a villain?
It’s tough during the work itself, but people will feel compensated.
‘After all, many professionals sacrifice their weekends for jobs they hold onto for life.’
And our agents are bringing in information worth far more than a couple of gold coins.
When the Rothschild family nearly collapsed, they received news about the Battle of Waterloo “days” earlier than others.
They invested everything they had, spread false rumors about Napoleon’s victory, and bought up British bonds that had crashed.
A few days later, when the true news ca through, they sold the bonds, raising the family from ruin to wealth as a hereditary barony.
Information is priceless.
“To make money, you mustn’t skimp on investnt. Spend when buying goods, spend to satisfy custors, and treat those involved well enough to make them feel they’d die for you.”
Of course, when a company’s struggling, labor costs are often the first to be cut.
But we’re in a phase of growth.
“The training’s complete, and the agents are in the field, but we’ve already had one detained.”
Though I had the Duke and the Emperor’s favor, my current standing was similar to a rising young congressman from the ruling party.
As my influence grew, the Spórza Ducal family, the opposition, found themselves increasingly marginalized.
‘It’s natural that they’re trying to contain .’
“Bring Kris in as well. It’s ti to stir things up properly.”
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