Bruno and his men vacated the hall, leaving behind the stench of sweat and silent threats. As soon as the heavy oak door slammed shut, Leo—now known to everyone as Marx—collapsed into the nearest chair, wiping beads of perspiration from his forehead. His hand was still trembling slightly as he concealed the "stapler" deep in his tunic pocket.
Marx thought to himself:
"Damn this world... I thought the IRS was hell, but these savages make tax auditors look like angels."
Suddenly, the soft, hurried sound of footsteps echoed from behind the heavy velvet curtains of the drawing room. A girl around eighteen years old emerged; her clothes were simple yet elegant, and her reddened eyes betrayed that she had been watching the confrontation in tears.
His sister, Eliza, spoke softly:
"Thank you... truly, brother. I never knew you possessed such courage. You handled them in such a strange way, but I heard everything... Harvest season is only nine days away."
Marx looked at her in surprise, then quickly combed through the memories of the "body" he now inhabited. This was Eliza, his younger sister who had carried the burden of the household while the "Original Marx" had been drowning in depression.
Marx replied in a voice he tried to make reassuring:
"Eliza... don't worry. I will find a solution."
Eliza approached him, clutching his trembling hand:
"How, brother? Our debts aren't just numbers; they are daggers at our throats. Mother is on the verge of death in her room upstairs. The doctor says she lost the will to live the moment Father died under Count Balder's tyranny. He has seized everything, and now he wants our very dignity."
Marx felt a lump in his throat that wasn't his own, but rather a remnant of the original host's emotions.
Marx thought to himself:
"What a pitiful family... Curse you, father of this body, for leaving them like this. But... thank you for giving me this drive, this responsibility. Now I have a real reason to become the 'Marx' everyone fears."
Marx ascended to the upper floor, glancing briefly at the manor's rooms. The estate was vast but "hollow." No paintings, no gold—only a few loyal servants (Hans, a cook, and an old groundskeeper) who stayed because they had nowhere else to go.
He entered his late father's study and threw open the window overlooking the Barony's lands. The fields were swarming with farmers preparing for the harvest, but their faces were bleak.
Marx said to Hans, who had followed him into the study:
"Hans, tell me about the harvest. How do these people sell their crops?"
Hans replied sorrowfully:
"The usual way, My Lord. Count Balder's traders or middlemen pass by each farm individually. The farmer, terrified of the crop rotting, sells at whatever price the trader dictates. They prey on them, Master. The poor farmer barely pays his taxes to the Count and is left with crumbs."
Marx's eyes gleamed. In his modern mind, "Leo the Accountant" saw a chaos that called itself a market, and he decided to re-engineer it.
Marx said, a smile beginning to form:
"The problem isn't the wheat, Hans... the problem is the Location. Why does the trader go to the farmer? We're going to break that rule. We're going to create a 'Marketplace'—a central hub."
Hans replied in bewilderment:
"A Market-what? Sir, is this a new type of magic?"
Marx laughed loudly, a sound that made Eliza peek through the door in astonishment.
Marx said:
"No, Hans. It's the magic of Organization. We have nine days before the harvest. In these days, we will convince every farmer in the region not to sell a single grain of wheat to the traders passing by their homes. We will tell them to come, all of them, to the Great Square in front of our castle."
Eliza spoke up fearfully:
"And why would they come? The Count will threaten them!"
Marx rubbed his hands together with a wide, predatory grin:
"They will come because I will promise them an Auction. If ten traders come to one place to compete over a consolidated supply, the price will skyrocket. The farmer wants money, the trader wants a monopoly, and I... I will take my commission."
The System suddenly flashed on the screen before his eyes:
[Alert: Skill (Market Architect) activated.]
[Mission: Establish the First Harvest Marketplace.]
[Potential Reward: Profit points proportional to transaction volume.]
Marx turned to Hans and said with a somewhat wicked smile:
"Hans, go to the nearby poor villages. Find the strong young men who cannot find work. Tell them Baron Marx will give them 10 gold coins to guard the market for just seven days!"
Hans was stunned:
"10 gold coins? Sir, we don't even have 10 coppers!"
Marx winked at him:
"Invest in them, Hans! These guards are the 'Security' I will sell to the traders. Traders fear for their gold, and farmers fear for their crops. I will sell them protection at a premium and pay the youths from the market's profits. Go now!"
Over the next nine days, Marx became a relentless "busy bee." He moved between the fields, speaking to the farmers in their simple tongue.
Marx told an old farmer:
"Uncle, why sell to one trader who cheats you? Come to my square. I'll bring you ten traders shouting to outbid one another. You just place your crop where I tell you, and leave the rest to me."
The farmer replied hesitantly:
"But what will you take, My Lord Baron?"
Marx said with a reassuring smile:
"A small commission... just 2% of the sale value. And if the price doesn't go up, you owe me nothing. What do you say?"
The idea began to spread like wildfire. "The young Baron has gone mad," "The Baron wants to protect us," "The Baron will bring the traders to their knees."
Opening Day (The Start of the Seven Days):
Marx stood on a raised wooden platform Hans had hastily built in the dusty Great Square before the castle. The square was divided with ropes and wooden signs bearing the names of the farmers. Carts began to pour in since dawn.
Marx wore an old vest, tailored to look formal, and his wide grin never wavered as he watched the poor youths he had hired standing solemnly at the corners of the square, wearing simple cloth armbands.
Marx thought to himself:
"Look at this beauty... Supply and Demand in its purest form."
The traders arrived, among them agents of Count Balder. They were furious because they found nothing at the farms, forced to come to "Marx's Market."
A stout trader named Silas stepped forward and said arrogantly:
"What is this nonsense, Marx? Empty these carts so we can buy them at the usual price and leave!"
Marx replied with a cold smile:
"Welcome, Mr. Silas. Entering with your wagon costs one gold coin as a parking and organization fee. As for the buying... it happens here, in front of everyone."
Marx stood in the center of the square and raised his voice for all to hear:
"Gentlemen! We are here to sell the excellent wheat of the Peter family. The price starts at 10 coins per sack!"
Silas shouted:
"11 coins!"
Another trader, who had come from a neighboring city eyeing the large quantities, countered:
"13 coins!"
"15 coins!" Silas screamed, wiping sweat, realizing that if he didn't buy now, he would lose everything to his rival.
The farmers looked at each other in disbelief. They had never seen traders begging to buy their crops.
Marx hadn't planted anything... and he hadn't harvested anything.
Yet he stood there, holding a small ledger, recording the numbers.
Marx whispered into Hans's ear:
"Hans, do the math with me... 2% of every deal, plus wagon fees, plus the protection fees we'll charge the traders later... Do you see that pile of gold? Those are the survival tickets for my mother and Eliza."
The System wrote on the screen:
[Alert: Daily trading volume exceeded 2,000 gold.]
[Current Commission: 40 gold in the first three hours alone.]
[Performance Evaluation: Exploitative Genius... Nyah-ha!]
Marx laughed and looked toward the sky:
"I'm not an exploiter, System... I am simply an 'Organizer of Chaos.' Now, on to the next crop! Who pays more?"
note :
What I said now about the auction was a prelude to how the auction was organized. In Chapter Three, you will learn how the auction was organized from the first day to the last.