Otome Game Mob Villain Chapter 682

"......But the amount I quoted already accounts for the risks involved."

"What do you an by that?"

Luva's expression briefly faltered as she shrugged, though the light still hadn't returned to her eyes.

When I pressed the question, she grinned at .

"With road improvents boosting transport efficiency, your distribution network won't just expand within the ratfolk territories where you're supplying goods—it'll spread across all of Zveera, centered around the royal capital of Vestia. So tell , who stands to gain the most from that?"

"Well, that would be..."

Apparently, Luva had anticipated our intentions from the very beginning.

When I hesitated, she seized the opportunity to press her advantage.

"Put another way, this ans Zveera—through the foxfolk—is permitting the Cristy Company, or rather Baldia, to do business within our borders. You'd be gaining a veritable goldmine of profit potential. Surely that offers advantages beyond re monetary compensation."

"...So you're saying we should accept bare-minimum paynt for the construction work and make up the difference through business profits. Is that it?"

"My, my, Lord Rid—how refreshing to deal with soone who understands so quickly."

Luva's face blossod into a pleased smile, but she remained as dangerous as ever.

I could sense an almost rodent-like greed from her—the kind that would swallow up every last scrap of profit the mont I made one wrong move.

It sent a different kind of chill down my spine than the life-and-death gambles of the battlefield.

Resting a hand against my mouth, I turned the situation over in my mind.

There was truth to the saying "lose the battle to win the war"—prioritizing expanded distribution channels over imdiate construction profits was a valid approach.

Yet sothing about her words nagged at .

I couldn't shake the feeling I was overlooking sothing crucial.

A quick review of Luva's docunts revealed no obvious irregularities.

"...Lord Rid, might I have a word?"

"What is it, Chris?"

When I tilted my head in question, she leaned close to whisper in my ear.

"While these docunts are undoubtedly well-prepared, Lady Luva's claims about our potential profits in Zveera omit one critical detail—the Beast King retains authority to freely adjust and impose trade tariffs. Moreover, if we accept the contract now and soone other than Sektos becos the next Beast King after the upcoming succession battles, every condition here could be overturned."

"Ah—"

Chris's explanation made everything click.

I skimd through the docunts again—no ntion of Zveera's tax rates anywhere.

Only the construction costs had been calculated.

Clearly, they planned to have us undertake the project cheaply, then recoup our profits through steep tariffs.

In other words, this proposal was designed to divert our attention.

Luva... Truly worthy of being Sektos's right hand in managing Zveera's governance.

She'd nearly taken for a fool.

"In the worst-case scenario, this could leave us with neither battle nor war," Chris added.

"Understood. Thank you, Chris."

"Not at all. Happy to be of service."

Chris smiled warmly before straightening her posture.

Clearing my throat, I slowly shook my head.

"Lady Luva, while your suggestion about offsetting construction costs through future business profits has rit, that only holds true if your nation offers favorable tax rates, correct?"

"...How distrustful. Do you doubt my word—or Sektos's?"

Luva shot a brief glare at Chris before fixing with an icy stare.

Despite her petite, childlike features, her piercing gaze held terrifying intensity.

But I wasn't about to falter over sothing like this.

"Not at all. However, with the Beast King battles approaching, there's a chance we might gain no business foothold even after completing construction should the kingship change hands. Honestly speaking, we'd prefer the quoted amount reflect those risks."

Silence fell as Luva and I locked eyes, the tension in the room growing so thick you could hear everyone's breathing.

Yet this silence shouldn't be feared—I'd stated my position clearly.

Any attempt to lighten the mood now might lead to careless remarks and dig my own grave.

No doubt Luva was watching closely, waiting for precisely that—for to misspeak.

When I narrowed my eyes instead of speaking, Luva exhaled sharply.

"Fine. We'll revise the amount."

"Thank you, Lady Luva. To be clear, I'm not opposed to the project itself—I simply wish to agree on a fair price. Not too high, not too low."

"Oh? 'Not too high, not too low,' you say? How amusing, Lord Rid. Currently, no one on the continent can match Baldia's road-paving techniques. This isn't about exploiting weaknesses—"

Luva's eyebrow twitched as she leaned forward.

"True, you could call it proprietary technology and try to take advantage. But that approach cos with unwanted baggage."

"Unwanted baggage... such as?"

"Resentnt, perhaps."

I answered Luva's probing question with calm detachnt.

"We need to earn your trust—yours and everyone else's. Prioritizing short-term profits at the cost of that trust would be counterproductive. Profit matters, yes, but our true goal here is establishing credibility."

"I see."

She nodded thoughtfully, her lips curling into a smirk.

"Very well. Then na what Baldia considers a fair price. If you can provide a reasonable estimate now, we might approve it imdiately."

"Imdiately? But wouldn't state-funded projects require approval from Beast King Sektos?"

Luva chuckled at my question.

"Already handled, as I said. Sektos has authorized to make the final decision."

"I see. Then I'll take you at your word."

No doubt Luva had absolute confidence in her calculations—hence the provocation, or perhaps this was another test.

Ti to counterattack.

I glanced at Chris and Capella.

"Help run the numbers. Amon, Tink—prepare the 'Punch-in Machine.' I want to deliver a proper estimate, not so scribbled notes."

"Understood."

"You got it, Rid."

As we began cross-referencing Luva's docunts with our prepared materials to calculate costs, Luva tilted her head in confusion.

"...Punch-in Machine?"