Two hours later, Isabella returned to our headquarters with contracts, pricing sheets, and a satisfied expression.
"How'd you do?" I asked.
"Better than expected." She laid out the numbers. "Current market price for Helena's order is 2,000 gold. Adrian's price-gouged rate is 6,000 gold. Our price: 1,800 gold."
Marcus whistled low. "That's aggressive."
"That's competitive," Isabella corrected. "We're still profitable at that margin, and it sends a message that we're serious about fair pricing. Plus, Helena is exactly the kind of customer we want."
"Why?" Damian asked.
"High-profile, well-respected, and vocal when she's pleased with service." Isabella smiled. "Marketing through reputation. The best kind."
I was drafting the contract when footsteps echoed in the corridor. Heavy boots with confident stride and the distinctive gait of someone who'd spent decades in combat.
Moment later, Professor Helena Crimsonfang entered our headquarters like she owned it.
Six feet of scarred muscle and barely contained violence, she surveyed our operation with the critical eye of a veteran warrior evaluating a battlefield. Her crimson hair was tied back in a practical braid, and she wore combat leathers instead of the standard professor robes.
"Ravana. Frostvale." She nodded to each of us. "Heard you're competing with Adrian's equipment monopoly."
"Word travels fast," I observed.
"I'm a professor. It's my job to know what students are doing." She tossed a requisition form on my desk. "Adrian's supplier tripled my prices this morning. Said if I didn't like it, I could teach combat class with sticks."
I scanned the list of standard training equipment, but the prices were absurd. "Let me guess. You complained, and they said take it or leave it."
"Word for word." Her eyes were sharp, assessing. "So I'm here to see if you two are serious, or if this is just academy drama. And I'm bored with that kind of thing."
Indeed, the academy set the school up to be like real world with students, as well all instructors involved in lots of things. Or maybe the original writer just wrote the book like that.
I can't tell, but either way, I'm in the mess now.
I focused back on the situation at hand and the fact that she was testing us. Helena didn't waste time with politics or games, she wanted to know if we could deliver.
I pulled out a contract and filled in Isabella's numbers. "Fair market price is 2,000 gold. Adrian's supplier is charging you 6,000. Our price is 1,800 gold, with free maintenance for the semester."
Helena's expression didn't change, but something flickered in her eyes. "Why the discount?"
"Because you're testing whether we're legitimate. And because I want you to recommend us to other professors who are tired of being exploited."
She studied me for a long moment. Then she signed the contract.
"You're smarter than you look, Ravana."
"High praise from the legendary Blood Warrior."
"Don't let it go to your head." She stood, contract in hand. "You'll get your recommendation if the equipment's as good as promised."
She was halfway to the door when she paused. "One more thing. I hear you're planning to oppose Adrian long-term."
"Planning to survive him, anyway."
"You'll need better combat skills than what you showed in that duel." She glanced back. "Seven AM tomorrow, Training Ground Seven. Show up if you're serious about not dying."
[PROFESSOR HELENA CRIMSONFANG]
[INTEREST: 40% → 52%]
[RECRUITMENT POTENTIAL: Increasing]
[NOTE: She respects action over words]
[OPPORTUNITY: Training offer is gateway to recruitment]
[FIRST MAJOR CONTRACT: SECURED]
After she left, Isabella let out a breath. "We just landed Helena Crimsonfang as a client. On our first day."
"And possibly as a future recruit," I added.
"You think she'd join your faction?"
"I think she's tired of being undervalued. Just like you were." I looked at her. "That's what we're building here, Isabella. A place where competent people get recognized for their competence, not treated as resources."
She smiled, small but genuine. "You're either the best manipulator I've ever met, or you actually believe that."
"Can't it be both?"
While we celebrated our first major sale, Lucille's intelligence network was delivering its report on Adrian's reaction.
I read through the transcribed conversation, courtesy of one of Lucille's spies embedded in Adrian's inner circle:
"They got Helena?" Adrian's voice, tight with frustration. "How?"
"Undercut our prices significantly. 1,800 gold for an order we priced at 6,000."
"That's not sustainable. They're taking a loss."
"Actually, sir, our analysis shows they're still profitable. We were... overcharging."
It was silent...then.
"I don't care if it's sustainable. This is about control. Isabella was supposed to be under our influence. The Ravana brat is supposed to be isolated and desperate. Instead, they're forming a business alliance?"
"It appears so, sir."
"Then we escalate. Call the supplier consortium. I want anyone who deals with Shadow Contracts blacklisted. Cut their supply lines. Make it impossible for them to operate."
"Sir, that will be expensive—"
"I don't care about expenses! Do you understand what this means? If they succeed, if they show that there's an alternative to working with me, everything we've built falls apart. Crush them. Now."
I set down the report. "He's panicking."
"Good," Isabella said, reading over my shoulder. "Panic makes people sloppy."
"It also makes them dangerous." Damian stood by the window, watching the evening crowd. "Young Master, Adrian, especially those backing him has resources we can't match in direct economic warfare."
"We don't need to match his resources." I pulled out a map of academy supply chains that Isabella had provided. "We need to be smarter about how we use ours. Adrian's operating on the assumption that overwhelming force wins. But his supply network is overextended and he's trying to control everything simultaneously."
"And?" Marcus asked.
"And overextension creates vulnerabilities." I marked several points on the map. "He can't effectively monitor all his contracts at once. He can't respond quickly to challenges in multiple sectors. He's powerful but inflexible."
"While we're small but agile," Isabella finished, seeing where I was going. "We can shift focus, adapt to opportunities, operate in gaps he can't cover."
"Exactly. He wants total control. We want market share. Those are different objectives, and ours is easier to achieve."
[ECONOMIC WAR: INITIATED]
[CURRENT MARKET SHARE: 2%]
[ADRIAN'S MARKET SHARE: 47%]
[STRATEGY IDENTIFIED: Agility over Force]
[TIMELINE: 1 month to 25% market share]
[DIFFICULTY: High but achievable]
As evening fell, we gathered in the headquarters for final planning. Isabella had brought dinner an expensive takeout from one of the better academy restaurants. Apparently, successful business deals required celebration food and I wasn't complaining.
"To our first contract," she raised her glass of wine.
"To many more," I replied.
We ate and discussed strategy. Isabella had already identified three more professors who were dissatisfied with Adrian's pricing. Marcus proposed a bulk-purchasing agreement with suppliers to reduce our costs. Damian organized a delivery schedule that would ensure prompt service.
It felt... good. Like we were actually building something real. Something that mattered beyond just my survival. At first, everything was about my survival but maybe, it isn't that bad as well.
[ECONOMIC WAR: Active]
[DEATH FLAG COUNTDOWN: 5 Days, 8 Hours]
[DAMIAN'S FAKE BETRAYAL: Begins tomorrow night]
[RECOMMENDATION: Sleep now. You'll need it.]
For once, the system's advice was sound.
☆☆▪︎▪︎☆☆
Before I could head to my dorm, Damian found me on the balcony.
"Young Master," he said quietly. "About tomorrow night. The fake betrayal."
"Yes?"
"How... how do you want me to approach Adrian?" His expression was troubled. "What should I say to make it convincing?"
I'd been thinking about this. For Damian's betrayal to work, for Adrian to truly believe that my most loyal retainer was turning against me, then it had to feel real. That meant Damian would have to say things that hurt. Do things that made me look bad. Potentially damage my reputation if anyone overheard.
"Tell him the truth," I said finally.
Damian blinked. "What?"
"Tell him I'm manipulative. That I use people. That I'm building a faction not out of idealism but for power." I met his eyes. "Those things are all partially true. The difference is I'm honest about it with people who matter."
"You want me to make you sound like a villain."
"I am a villain, Damian. That's the entire point." I smiled without humor. "The only difference between me and Adrian is that I admit what I am. Use that. Tell Adrian I'm dangerous because I don't pretend to be something I'm not. Make him afraid of my honesty instead of my power."
"And when he asks me to poison you?"
I pulled out the vial Marcus had prepared, a sleeping potion modified to mimic Shadowbane toxin's visual properties. "When the time comes, you'll use this. It looks identical to the real poison, but it'll just put me to sleep for a few hours. Long enough to fake death convincingly."
Damian took the vial with careful hands. "Young Master, if something goes wrong...."
"It won't. We have three layers of protection. Your fake poison, Marcus's detection wards, and Ravenna's death-faking spell once I recruit her." I gripped his shoulder. "Trust the plan, Damian. Trust yourself."
"I do trust the plan, Young Master." His voice was steady. "And I trust you. I just hope you trust yourself as much as you trust us."
After he left, I stood alone in the darkness.
Five days until someone tried to kill me.
Tomorrow night, Damian begins his fake betrayal.
Then three days of final preparation before the Spring Festival.
Not bad for a book character that's written to be a villain.