Inside his room, Draco paced back and forth across the small space, his mind racing with possibilities.
The two gold pouches in his pocket felt heavier than their actual mass. They were opportunities he'd never had before.
Finally, he sat down on his wooden bed, the old frame creaking softly. Zephyr perched on the windowsill, preening his tiny feathers while occasionally glancing at his contemplative master.
The short journey with Glade benefited me more than I expected.
The journey had accelerated his plans by a week.
Truth was, Draco had wanted to accept Glade's offer immediately. A thousand gold coins was more money than he'd ever dreamed of having from the Ashblade family. But something had held him back – an instinct that told him to play harder to get.
The reason was simple. Draco wanted to extort more money out of Glade.
The more desperate Glade became, the higher the price would climb.
His half-brother's fear of losing his inheritance position was clearly driving him to make increasingly generous offers. Why settle for a thousand when patience might yield fifteen hundred, or perhaps two thousand?
Draco leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling as his thoughts slowly organised themselves.
I know that deadbeat father of mine is never going to give me genuine attention or affection.
In Lucas Von Ashblade's mind, Draco represented the center of his misery. The living reminder of why his beloved concubine Elena had died.
Every time the Marquis looked at his bastard son, he remembered the person that gave birth to him.
During my initial years growing up, I was upset about it. I expected to be showered with riches and care simply because of my bloodline. But those naive expectations had died long ago.
Draco had learned to stop caring about earning his father's approval or claiming his place among the family's favored members.
"If this world doesn't want to give me a path… I will carve it out myself," he muttered, his eyes gazing through the small window at the clouds drifting in the distance.
While I've been weak, poor, and powerless, I haven't been idle during my time in this world.
During the long, lonely years of being overlooked and dismissed, Draco had done something his family never suspected, he'd studied the market.
His access to the family library and occasional trips to the markets had allowed him to observe what people needed, what they lacked, and where opportunities existed.
Knowledge was a form of power they didn't recognize, but it was power nonetheless.
The only issue was my lack of money. I never received an allowance from the family, so I never had a real chance to save or invest.
But now, with Glade's gold burning a hole in his pocket and the promise of much more to come, he could finally execute the business plans he'd been developing for years.
My first product needs to be something cheap to manufacture but with high profit potential.
The answer had come to him years ago during one of his visits to the city markets: shampoo.
In this world, people bathed with plain water and used crude mixtures of animal fats and ashes as body soap.
The concept of hair care beyond basic cleanliness was unknown. Most people's hair was dull, often greasy, and certainly never fragrant.
While I could manufacture fragrant soap as well, I'll save that for later. My first product needs to be distinctive and eye-catching.
Shampoo represented the perfect entry point.
The ingredients were relatively inexpensive and available. Such as various oils, herbs, and basic cleaning agents that he could source from merchants in the market.
The manufacturing process was simple enough that he could start small-scale production in a rented workspace.
Most importantly, it would introduce a completely new concept to the market.
These people had never experienced hair that smelled of lavender or jasmine, locks that felt soft and manageable, or the confidence that came with knowing your appearance was enhanced rather than merely clean.
I need money to fuel my progression as an awakener, and business profits can provide that independence.
His academy allowance of seventy gold coins per week was helpful, but it wouldn't be enough to purchase better Beastmaster manuals, rare cultivation resources, or the equipment necessary for serious hunting. Business income could change that equation entirely.
Draco stood up and moved to his small desk, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill.
He began sketching a rough plan. The plan was already in his mind long ago.
The reason he was writing it out now was because of his fear of cleaners or others finding the parchment.
I'll scout the market tomorrow. Based on what I observe, I'll determine my next steps regarding Glade's offer and whether leaving the family is the right move.
Zephyr chirped softly from the windowsill, drawing Draco's attention. The tiny hummingbird seemed to sense his master's excitement and determination.
"What do you think, little friend? Ready to help me build something that's entirely ours? " Draco asked quietly.
Chirp! Chirp!
The hummingbird's responding trill sounded almost like approval, and Draco found himself smiling.
Let Glade worry about inheritance and Father's approval. Meanwhile, I'll create my own legacy.