I spent the night doing something I'd gotten far too good at, planning how to avoid being murdered. I already survived a duel that might have ended everything for me. I just have to survive again. Sleep was a luxury for people who weren't on a six-day deadline to survive an assassination attempt.
I was not one of those people.
"Young Master, you should rest." Damian stood in the doorway of our headquarters, holding a cup of tea. "You've been awake for...."
"Hours. I know and I'm not fully healed from the duel" I rubbed my eyes, staring at the planning table covered in notes, diagrams, and contingency plans. "But if I sleep, I might miss something. Something that gets me killed."
"If you don't sleep, you'll definitely miss something. Exhaustion kills as surely as poison."
He had a point, a very frustrating, logical point.
"Four hours," I conceded. "Wake me if anything happens."
"As you wish, Young Master."
I managed three hours before the system's notification chime jerked me awake.
[MORNING REMINDER]
[MEETING WITH ISABELLA FROSTVALE: 2 Hours]
[DEATH FLAG COUNTDOWN: 5 Days, 18 Hours]
[DAMIAN'S FAKE BETRAYAL: Setup begins tonight]
[RECOMMENDATION: Coffee. Lots of coffee.]
The system's suggestion about coffee was actually helpful for once.
The headquarters was already active when I emerged from my room. Marcus hunched over his workbench, surrounded by half-finished enchantments and glowing runes. Damian organized documents with military know how.
The space we'd secured from the Arena Master was transforming into something functional, and almost professional or rowdy, depending on how Marcus did things.
"Marcus," I called. "Status on the poison detection wards? And the amulet?"
He didn't look up from his work. "Ninety percent complete. They'll detect any toxin within ten meters and alert you immediately. I'm working on the range extension now."
"Good. But I need something else."
"Of course you do." Now he looked up, dark circles under his eyes matching mine. "What else could possibly be needed for your elaborate 'fake my own death' scheme?"
"Something to actually fake the death convincingly." I have decided to make lots of plans for the incoming death scenario.
Marcus stared at me. "You want... a death-faking spell? Hadeon, that's extremely advanced magic. Dark magic, technically. The kind that gets people expelled if they're caught practicing it."
"Which is why I'm asking you, not doing it myself." I leaned against his workbench. "Can you do it?"
"Can I? Probably. Should I? That's a different question entirely." He rubbed his face. "You're really going through with this plan."
"The alternative is actually dying. I prefer fake death."
"Fair point." He pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, already sketching rune patterns.
"I'll need Ravenna's help. Death-faking requires void magic components, and she's the only one who can...."
"Wait, who's Ravenna?"
I'd said her name without thinking. In the original timeline, I wouldn't meet Ravenna Blackthorn until after the Spring Festival. But with everything accelerating...
"Someone we'll recruit soon," I said carefully. "Dark magic specialist. She'll be crucial for this."
"You know a lot of things you shouldn't know, Young Master."
"I prefer to think of it as being well-informed."
Damian approached with two cups of coffee. "The Isabella meeting is in ninety minutes. You should prepare."
Right. The business meeting. The one that would start economic warfare with Adrian and probably make someone try to kill me even faster.
Just another morning.
☆☆▪︎▪︎☆☆
The Café we chose occupied neutral ground in the academy's commercial district, it was expensive enough that most students couldn't afford it, but public enough that nothing overtly hostile could happen without witnesses. Perfect for a business meeting between a 'villain' and a merchant heiress.
Isabella was already there when I arrived, seated at a corner table with perfect sight lines to all entrances. She'd dressed for business in an expensive but not ostentatious way, her ice-blonde hair styled with professional outlook.
She was also alone, with no guards, no advisors, no family representatives.
I found that very interesting.
"Ravana." She gestured to the seat across from her. "Punctual. I appreciate that."
"Time is money, as they say." I sat, noting the leather portfolio on the table beside her. "Though I suspect you didn't ask me here just to appreciate my punctuality."
"No." She opened the portfolio, revealing detailed financial projections, market analysis, and cost breakdowns. She has obviously done her homework and it wasn't some student's class project but a professional-level business intelligence. Indeed, the academy breeds genius of all kinds. "I asked you here because Adrian Celestius is attempting to monopolize academy supply contracts, and we both have reasons to stop him."
I activated Analytical Eye.
[ANALYTICAL EYE: ISABELLA FROSTVALE]
[EMOTIONAL STATE: Calculating, Frustrated, Hopeful]
[TRUST IN YOU: 25%]
[TRUST IN ADRIAN: 30% (knows he's using her)]
[MOTIVATION: Tired of exploitation, seeking genuine partnership]
[CONCERNS: Is this too good to be true?]
[RECRUITMENT POTENTIAL: 60%]
[APPROACH: Prove sincerity through transparency]
"Adrian's using predatory pricing," I observed, scanning the documents. "He starts with fair rates, drive out competition, then triple prices once he has monopoly control."
Isabella's eyebrows rose slightly. "Most students wouldn't recognize the strategy."
"I'm not most students."
"No." Her frost-blue eyes studied me. "You're not. Which brings me to my proposal, a joint venture. You provide purchasing power through your family connections and political coverage. I provide merchant expertise and capital."
I read through her proposed contract. It was... surprisingly fair. Fifty-fifty split. Equal decision-making authority. Mutual defense clauses against economic retaliation.
"This is generous," I said carefully. "Almost suspiciously so."
"It's equitable." She leaned forward slightly. "Adrian offered me a contract once. Ninety-ten split in his favor, all major decisions requiring his approval, and a clause that let him dissolve the partnership at any time with no penalty. I know he wanted me as a purse."
"And I'm offering?"
"Based on this contract? Actual partnership." She pulled out a second document. "But I need to know, what do you actually want from this, Ravana? Everyone wants something. They always do."
Fair question. I could lie, spin some story about pure business interest. But Isabella was too smart for that, and I was tired of everyone treating everyone else like chess pieces.
Although, isn't that what I'm doing at the end? Well, better not think of that. Besides, if I want to survive in this book that I now found myself, I need to build my own faction.
I need a chessboard of my own. Hypocritical as that might sound.
"I want someone on my team who actually knows what they're doing with money," I said bluntly. "Marcus is brilliant with enchantments but couldn't balance a ledger to save his life. Damian can fight and organize, but business strategy isn't his forte. I can plan and strategize, but I've never run a commercial operation."
I met her eyes directly. "You spent your entire life learning trade. You can read a market like I read a battlefield and that's a valuable skill. That's worth equal partnership. Plus...." I gestured at Adrian's pricing schemes in her documents, "....you're clearly tired of being treated as a resource instead of a person."
Isabella was quiet for a long moment. Then something shifted in her expression, a crack in the professional mask that was replaced by something more genuine.
"Adrian called me 'the Frostvale purse' once," she said softly. "He thought I couldn't hear. I've spent a year watching him use my family's money and connections while treating me like convenient funding."
"So this is business and personal."
"All good business is personal." She pulled out a pen. "There's one modification I'd like to propose to the mutual defense clause."
"What kind?"
"It says 'economic interests.' I want it to include personal safety." She looked up. "If we partner, I become a target. Adrian do not just attack businesses, he also go after people. I need to know we'll stand together when that happens."
Most people wouldn't acknowledge that part out loud. Most people would pretend the nice, clean business deal wouldn't involve actual danger.
Isabella wasn't most people.
That's why I chose her.
"Agreed." I took the pen and amended the clause myself. "Mutual defense. Economic and personal. Against all threats."
We both signed.
[BUSINESS ALLIANCE FORMED]
[SHADOW CONTRACTS LLC - ESTABLISHED]
[PARTNER: Isabella Frostvale (50% ownership)]
[COMBINED CAPITAL: 50,000 gold]
[REVENUE POTENTIAL: 5,000 gold/month]
[MARKET POSITION: Challenger]
[VILLAIN SCORE: +500]
[REPUTATION: +10% (pragmatic students)]
[ADRIAN'S ECONOMIC ADVANTAGE: -15%]
[ISABELLA FROSTVALE]
[TRUST: 25% → 45%]
[LOYALTY: 40%]
[RECRUITMENT POTENTIAL: 65%]
[NOTE: She's considering this more than just business]
"So," Isabella tucked her copy of the contract into an enchanted document case. "What's our first move?"
"Adrian's squeezing suppliers to maintain his monopoly. We need to prove we're a viable alternative." I showed her the list Damian had compiled. "Professor Helena Crimsonfang just got price-gouged by Adrian's main supplier. Training equipment order usually 2,000 gold, now priced at 6,000 from him."
"Helena Crimsonfang wants to buy from us?" Isabella's professional mask cracked again, this time with a smile. "That's significant. If we can satisfy the Blood Warrior's standards, others will follow."
"Can you get us competitive pricing?"
"I have contacts with three equipment manufacturers." She was already pulling out a communication crystal. "Give me two hours."