"There's one more thing."
At Gavin Ward's words, the room of merchants grew quiet. Yet beneath that silence, their eyes gleamed with restless greed.
The demonstration of the electric light had already shaken them to their cores. Just that single invention promised profits beyond imagination. Now Gavin hinted at another marvel, one even larger. The merchants leaned forward unconsciously, drool practically pooling in their mouths.
They remembered his earlier words: the lights required batteries. That alone could become a fortune. Selling lamps was one stream of gold; selling batteries would be another river.
---
The Auction of Rights
Gavin steepled his fingers, his voice calm and measured. "We will now begin the auction for exclusive sales rights. First, I present the monopoly for distribution within the capital of the Tongsley Empire and its twelve surrounding states. The starting bid is 200,000 gold coins."
The merchants stiffened. This was no ordinary prize. The capital of Emperor Tongsley the Great was the richest city in all Loriland, sitting at the doorstep of the Central Magic Empire itself. Nobles there flaunted wealth like water, paying outrageous sums for magical devices.
If they could sell lamps there—even at inflated prices—they would recoup their investment tenfold.
"Two hundred and fifty thousand!" shouted the fat-bearded merchant Yuris, his face flushed red.
A rival instantly barked, "Yuris, you dog! Three hundred thousand!"
Another leapt in: "Three hundred and fifty!"
"Half a million!" roared yet another, slamming the table so hard goblets spilled wine.
Within minutes the bidding spiraled upward, voices overlapping in frenzy. At last, after a storm of shouts, the hammer fell at eight hundred thousand gold coins.
The winner was Mickey Dunbar, a powerful Rossian merchant with sprawling estates across neighboring nations. He had long cultivated ties in the Tongsley capital, making him the natural victor. His face split in a triumphant grin while the others, though disappointed, bit their tongues. They knew there were plenty more markets to be carved up.
---
Dividing the Empire
One by one, Gavin offered monopolies in other lucrative regions: trade hubs, noble-dense duchies, and wealthy coastal states. Seven merchants scrambled, outbidding one another until the map of the Tongsley Empire was divided like slices of a golden pie.
By the end, Gavin tallied the figures. The bids alone totaled 2.8 million gold coins.
He could hardly contain his satisfaction. The merchants had practically fought each other to pour money into his lap.
And this was only the beginning.
---
The Cost of a Miracle
Gavin leaned back, expression cool. "Gentlemen, you have secured monopoly rights. But there is the matter of procurement. The manufacturing cost of an electric lamp is… modest. Yet for distribution, the purchase price will be set at 200 gold coins per unit."
The words fell like stones in a pond.
The merchants hesitated, instinctively ready to haggle. But then their eyes drifted toward the soldiers at the doors, MP40 submachine guns gleaming beneath torchlight.
No one spoke. No one dared.
And truthfully, what reason had they? Even at 200 coins per lamp, they could sell each for 800 gold coins or more to greedy nobles. Four times their money, guaranteed.
What they did not know was Gavin's true cost: less than two gold coins per lamp. His profit margin was a staggering hundredfold. And when technology advanced, he could slash costs further, perhaps to a single silver coin. That meant a thousand-fold profit.
The merchants' silence was not consent—it was submission.
---
Securing the Contracts
"That will be the arrangement," Gavin said, voice firm. "For now, distribution will be limited to the Tongsley Empire's territories. Once you have proven reliable, expansion may be considered."
He motioned, and aides carried forward contracts, inked with the seals of both the Central Magic Empire's Council of Trade and the Loriland Business Union.
"These agreements are binding," Gavin said smoothly. "Any attempt to cheat, to violate terms, and you will face not only me—but the joint enforcement of the Council and the Union."
The merchants paled. They understood the weight of those signatures. Backing out was no longer possible.
"Prepare your payments," Gavin ordered. "In fifteen days, you will return for your goods."
The men bowed, trembling with eagerness and fear alike.
---
The Hidden Loom
Yet as they shuffled to leave, one bold merchant cleared his throat. "Your Majesty… you mentioned there was another thing…"
Gavin waved a hand dismissively. "Merely a demonstration. For now, invest your gold into lamps. When you return with fresh profits, we shall discuss the other matter."
The merchants exchanged nervous glances. None dared push further. They bowed deeply and hurried from the chamber.
Gavin watched them go, a smile tugging at his lips. He had bound seven of the wealthiest men in the region into an interest group centered on Ross. They would labor endlessly, risking their own fortunes, while he reaped the lion's share.
The "other thing" he had hidden was a loom—a machine capable of weaving cloth at ten times the speed of manual labor. With it, textiles would become his next empire of profit. But for now, it remained his secret ace.
---
The Count of Gold
When the last merchant was gone, Gavin allowed himself a laugh, deep and unrestrained.
"Two million eight hundred thousand in monopoly bids, plus ninety-four thousand more for their initial orders."
He clenched his fists in triumph. "Two million nine hundred and forty thousand gold coins in total! Enough to build a large-scale arsenal."
The system had gifted him technology, but resources and factories still required money. Now, at last, he had both.
---
Building the Arsenal
The very next day, on a stretch of land outside Ross City, workers bustled as foundations were laid. Gavin himself chose the site—a sprawling plain large enough to host multiple facilities.
Here would rise the Arsenal of Ross.
The first factories began construction:
A weapons foundry to forge 98K rifles and MG42 general-purpose machine guns.
An electric light plant to meet the merchants' demands.
A battery workshop, ensuring lamps could function long-term.
The workers were not ordinary citizens. They were the system-provided laborers—one hundred skilled industrial workers and ten technical experts in livelihood technology. Though their number was modest, their efficiency was extraordinary.
For security, Gavin stationed fifty of his German Guards at the site. Black-helmed and armed with submachine guns, they ensured no outsider dared interfere.
---
Preparing for the Future
It would take time for production to ramp up. For now, the output was modest. But once the merchants' gold flowed in fully, Gavin planned to expand rapidly—more factories, more workers, more weapons.
Ross, once a ruined kingdom on the brink of extinction, was about to rise like a phoenix. Not by noble privilege, nor endless taxation, but through industry, innovation, and profit.
And as Gavin surveyed the growing foundations of his arsenal, he whispered to himself:
"Today, Ross is small. Tomorrow, Ross will forge the weapons that decide the fate of empires."
---
[End of Chapter 11]