Gacha (1) ****
The social circles of the capital were always thirsty for new stories.
And for a while, the hottest topic quenching that thirst was, by far, the strange wind blowing from the Far East Maritime Province.
The bizarre business venture started by the good-for-nothing 7th Prince Mikhail.
A secret playground for the nobles.
And the liquor that was said to be sold only there.
The story grew with each telling, but no one had seen its true form.
Until this very day, this very moment.
"Now, now, everyone, pay attention."
At the salon of Countess Barbari, where the capital's finest writers and artists gathered.
The voice of Count Volkov, who occupied its center, was filled with an irrepressible pride.
In front of him, on a velvet-covered table, a single silver tray was placed.
On the tray were modest items, yet they boasted a presence more powerful than anything else.
One crystal bottle emitting a brilliant light, and two small matching glasses.
And…
"Wow, is that what I think it is?"
"Goodness, solid gold."
What captured people's attention was a small, solid gold coil twisted like a snake.
It was an object into which a master had poured his very soul, made by intricately weaving gold threads thinner than a strand of hair.
"That's the one."
Count Volkov smiled with satisfaction and carefully lifted the crystal bottle.
On the pure white leather label, the crest of 'Mikhail' embroidered with gold thread sparkled dazzlingly in the light of the chandelier.
'Mikhail Gold Label'.
"When drinking this liquor, they say you must put this gold coil in the glass and pour over it."
He placed the gold coil into the glass as reverently as if he were performing a holy communion.
And he tilted the bottle.
Jjoreureureuk—
The colorless, transparent liquid flowed over the golden coil, filling the glass.
"I don't know the detailed principle myself."
Count Volkov said with a shrug.
"They say doing this makes the liquor much smoother and purer. Well, I suppose it's a kind of filter."
He politely handed the first glass to the hostess of the salon, Baroness Petrova.
"Here, madam. Please taste it first. The glory of which only twelve bottles exist in the empire."
"Oh my, Count."
Baroness Petrova covered her mouth with a fan and let out a coquettish laugh, but her eyes were sparkling with curiosity.
She took the glass and elegantly took a sip.
"!"
In an instant, her eyes widened into circles.
"Th-This is."
"How is it, madam?"
"There is no taste, no aroma at all."
At her words, a stir went through the salon.
"It just flows down the throat as smoothly as silk. And this faint sweetness that remains on the tip of the tongue at the very end, what on earth is it."
She couldn't continue her words, and just looked down at the glass with an ecstatic expression.
At that sight, the patience of the other nobles wore thin.
"Count! Give me a glass too!"
"Over here as well!"
Count Volkov smiled triumphantly and poured the liquor for each in turn.
The salon was soon filled with sounds of admiration and wonder.
"Good heavens, this is on a different level from the Blue Label!"
"What is this smoothness? It's even smoother than water!"
"It's like drinking liquid air!"
In truth, the taste itself was not very different from the Blue Label.
But at this moment, such things didn't matter.
This was not just liquor.
It was a privilege granted to only twelve people in the empire.
Proof that one stood at the pinnacle of vanity and luxury.
Count Volkov placed his empty glass down with a satisfied expression.
The praise that filled the salon was as sweet as if it were directed at himself.
"It's worth the money. It really is."
At the single phrase he tossed out, Baroness Petrova covered her mouth with a fan and giggled.
"But that banquet, was it really that amazing?"
The topic naturally shifted from the liquor to the banquet itself.
Count Volkov's eyes shone playfully.
"It was amazing. Of course, it was amazing. It wasn't the kind of boring dance party you're thinking of."
"Then what on earth was it?"
The young Viscount Chernov, who had been listening quietly from the side, couldn't hold back and asked.
"It was a playground. A very huge, splendid, and dangerous playground. For adults."
Count Volkov lowered his voice as if he were a minstrel telling a legend.
"The card game called Blackjack was very thrilling, and the one called Texas Hold'em was a style I'd never seen before, but it was very fun. There was one called Craps, where you throw two dice."
He paused for a moment, closing his eyes as if recalling the excitement of that day.
"Everyone was cheering for the person throwing the dice with one heart, it was just like the last day of a festival! It was the first time I'd experienced something so heated."
"The one called Baccarat was also simple and addictive. But the highlight was, of course, the roulette."
"Roulette?"
"Yes. The sight of the huge wheel spinning, and the silver ball gliding on it as if dancing... what should I say, it was the wheel of fate itself. I found myself watching it, mesmerized."
Everyone in the salon held their breath, engrossed in his story.
"Ah, really. I wish it would be completed soon. Let's all be sure to go together then."
At Count Volkov's words, sighs of disappointment erupted from here and there.
"Aww, only you got to see the good stuff, Count."
"That's not fair!"
"Then... shall we have some fun amongst ourselves until then?"
Count Volkov showed something he took out from his bosom with a mischievous smile.
It was a small, luxurious booklet that had been included as a free gift in the 'Mikhail Gold Label' box.
"His Highness Mikhail personally bestowed a rulebook as well. So, what do you say? A game of Texas Hold'em right here?"
At his suggestion, the salon instantly regained its vitality.
The table was cleared, and cards were prepared.
Everyone was clumsy at the game they were playing for the first time, but that made it all the more enjoyable.
"Is this right?"
"Ahem, Viscount Chernov! You shouldn't peek at another's hand!"
"No, it's because I don't know the rules!"
Amidst the boisterous laughter, someone casually threw out a topic.
"But by the way. That Permanent VIP Membership that was said to have come out at the auction, it's really... how should I put it, insane."
The hands that had been focused on the cards paused for a moment.
Baroness Petrova said, fiddling with her chips.
"I knew he was a good-for-nothing, but I didn't know he had that much nerve. To make an oath with his own life on the line, and to make it so that only his blood can prove its authenticity...."
"He's no ordinary madman."
Count Volkov said with a bitter smile, putting down his cards.
"But isn't that why it's more trustworthy? Would such a madman really commit fraud?"
"That may be so, but isn't the price too high?"
Viscount Chernov cautiously opened his mouth.
"I heard it was sold for around 240,000 gold on average... that's a bit much."
At his words, everyone sitting at the table nodded their heads as if by agreement.
"Honestly, with that money, you could buy a mansion in a good location in the capital."
Baroness Petrova sighed.
"No matter that it's freely leasable, sellable, and inheritable, would it be worth that much?"
"Well..."
Count Volkov stroked his chin.
"Wouldn't it be better to buy the southern black soil region and collect rent, or to buy a chateau with a decent vineyard? Or if not that, just start any factory."
"In my opinion... buying some decent bonds or blue-chip stocks is the wisest."
Viscount Chernov said firmly.
"The risk is low, and the returns are stable."
"Hoho, the young friend is indeed realistic."
Count Volkov chuckled and checked his hand.
"Now, let's stop the serious talk and focus on the game. Is it my turn?"
***
Mikhail silently looked down at the heavy wooden box placed on his office desk.
Click!
When he unfastened the box's latch, the ninety-three cards neatly arranged inside were revealed.
On the leather as white as snow, the crest engraved in gold leaf emitted a soft glow.
Permanent VIP Membership.
The fact that each of these small pieces of leather was worth a decent mansion in the capital felt somehow unreal.
"Hmm."
Mikhail rested his chin on his hand and fell into thought.
"What do I do with these now?"
He had sold seven.
Now ninety-three remained.
"First, I'll have to present one to His Majesty the Emperor. Naturally."
Then ninety-two.
Put them up for auction again?
Mikhail shook his head.
'That won't do.'
The last auction was, truly, a den of madness.
The nobles, excited by the space called a 'casino' that they had never seen before.
The rarity of there being only one hundred in the entire empire.
And the bubble created by the performance he had put on with his life on the line.
All of that had combined to create an absurd price.
'If I hold another auction, it will definitely sell for a lower price than last time.'
If that happened, not only the value of the membership but the image of this entire business would be tarnished.
'At the very least, I'll only be able to sell them again after the casino is completed and the value of this membership is actually proven.'
But he couldn't just hand them out as bribes either.
The seven suckers, no, customers who had paid a high price for the cards wouldn't just stand by.
'They'd obviously rise up, saying, "Hey, fuck, we paid for ours, so why do they get them for free?"'
There was nothing as foolish as getting into a pissing contest with customers.
He couldn't act like a Blizzard employee spouting things like 'You guys don't have phones?'.
'The rapport has been sufficiently formed.'
Among the guys who bought the memberships, except for one mere baron named Jean-Claude, all were prominent high-ranking nobles.
Expanding his connections any further was also a bother.
"Haa, this is difficult."
Mikhail got up from his seat and walked to the window.
Outside the window, the huge construction site could be seen at a glance.
Thousands of workers were moving like ants, building his kingdom.
'The important thing is to raise the brand value and promote it.'
Beyond simply making money, he had to make this Far East Maritime Province the best entertainment district in the empire.
To do that, this membership had to have a value beyond what money alone could buy.
Something that money can't buy.
"Something like dreams and hopes, I guess."
Mikhail muttered with a small laugh.
Because people always yearn for what is out of reach.
'A state-run gamble. But one that everyone likes.'
That thing that made people bet a week's worth of hope on a single thousand-won piece of paper, dreaming of turning their lives around.
'And, a tax for the blockheads.'
Mikhail returned to his desk and took out a clean sheet of paper and a pen.
"A lottery should do the trick."
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