Earla fell into step beside him, her voice crisp and professional as she reported every detail while they walked toward his office.
"The parchlands acquisition in the Abilon Kingdom is proceeding smoothly, Young Master. As you know, Abilon lies to the south of the Dalion Empire, recently conquered just 3 years ago during the Southern Campaign."
She paused as they ascended the marble staircase leading to the mansion's second floor where Karl's private office was located.
"The conquest was relatively bloodless since King Aldric IV surrendered after the Battle of Surtha Pass rather than see his capital besieged. The empire installed him as a vassal ruler, but imperial administrators now control taxation, trade policy, and resource extraction rights."
She continued as they reached the landing. "Because of the political instability and the massive war reparations Abilon owes to the empire, land prices have collapsed. Noble families there are liquidating assets to pay their debts, which is why we've been able to acquire such vast tracts for a fraction of what they'd cost in stable imperial territory."
Karl nodded, filing away the geopolitical context. The Dalion Empire's expansion southward made sense from a strategic perspective, securing trade routes and agricultural lands, but it also created opportunities for those willing to invest in conquered territories while everyone else saw only risk.
"I trust that with my earlier assessment, nothing unexpected happened, right?"
Karl pushed open the heavy oak door to his office, a spacious room lined with bookshelves, maps pinned to the walls, and a large desk covered in documents, technical drawings, and correspondence. He'd taken over this space the day he'd transmigrated into this body 2 months ago and immediately begun his research.
The current year was 1812, which roughly corresponded to the early 19th century from his past life in terms of technological and industrial development. Flintlock firearms, early steam engines, nascent industrial manufacturing, Napoleonic-era military tactics. The parallels were striking, though the geography was completely different. This world's continents, nations, and cultures had developed along entirely separate lines.
The parchlands of the Abilon Kingdom were mostly arid, semi-desert terrain that had been sitting untouched for the past 3 years. No one wanted them. They yielded nothing, completely worthless for agriculture, grazing, or any practical use anyone in this world could imagine.
Karl had noticed these abandoned lands while reviewing regional surveys and property records. When he'd dug deeper, requesting documentation from the Imperial Land Office about why these parcels remained unsold despite rock-bottom prices, he'd found reports mentioning a "black, foul-smelling substance" that occasionally seeped to the surface in certain areas, particularly in the southern parchlands.
The moment he'd read that description, he'd known exactly what it was. Oil. Petroleum. Black gold.
In his previous world, oil had transformed entire civilizations, powering industrial revolutions, wars, economies. And here, in 1812, nobody had the faintest idea what it was worth. It would be decades before anyone in this world discovered refining techniques, kerosene lamps, internal combustion engines, all the applications that made oil valuable.
Which meant Karl had no competitors. He was buying up oil-rich land for pennies while everyone else saw only worthless desert contaminated with useless black sludge.
He couldn't help but smirk at the thought. If a certain country from his past life existed here, they'd probably be preparing to "liberate" the Abilon Kingdom right about now, bringing freedom and democracy at gunpoint to secure those oil reserves.
But fortunately for the Abilonese, America didn't exist in this world, so they'd be spared that particular brand of intervention. At least for now.
Karl settled into the leather chair behind his desk and gestured for Earla to continue her report.
Earla consulted the ledger she carried, flipping through pages filled with neat handwriting. "Actually, no complications, Young Master. The local lords were baffled that anyone would want land that's been sitting abandoned for 3 years with zero yield. Most were eager to sell, especially the ones facing bankruptcy from war debts."
She traced a line with her finger. "We acquired the majority of parcels through direct purchase at 5 to 8 Marks per acre, which is absurdly cheap even for worthless desert."
She turned a page. "However, word did get out that the Atticus family was buying aggressively in the southern parchlands. A few opportunistic bidders took notice and assumed we knew something they didn't. They started a bidding war on the remaining parcels, trying to drive prices up. Lord Varrick of House Melchor was particularly persistent, he went as high as 15 Marks per acre on 1 tract."
Karl raised an eyebrow. "And?"
Earla's expression remained professionally neutral, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "We crushed them, of course. I authorized bids up to 25 Marks per acre on the contested parcels as you instructed, and the other bidders withdrew once they realized we were willing to outspend them significantly."
She closed the ledger. "In the end, we secured all of the southern parchlands, roughly 47,000 acres total."
Karl did the math quickly in his head. Even at the inflated prices from the bidding war, they'd spent maybe 600,000 to 700,000 Marks total. A significant investment, but nothing the family couldn't afford.
And once oil became valuable, those 47,000 acres would be worth hundreds of millions, possibly billions.
"Excellent work, Earla. What about the legal paperwork? Imperial land grants, deed transfers, all of it properly filed?"
"All completed and registered with the Imperial Land Office in Gamascus, Young Master. The deeds are in your name personally, separate from the main family holdings as you requested." She paused. "If anyone asks, you're conducting experimental agricultural research on arid-land cultivation techniques."
Karl nodded approvingly. Keeping the land in his personal name rather than under the family corporation gave him more control and flexibility. And the cover story was bland enough that nobody would question it too deeply.
"Good. Now, what about security? I don't want squatters or looters setting up camps on that land."
Earla flipped to another section of her ledger. "I've hired a local security company in Abilon, former soldiers from the kingdom's dissolved army. 30 men total, commanded by a Captain Theron who served with distinction before the surrender."
She tapped the page. "They're patrolling the parchlands on horseback, evicting trespassers, and maintaining boundary markers. Their monthly wages come to 600 Marks, which I've approved from your discretionary fund."
"Perfect. Make sure Captain Theron understands that his job is to keep people out, not to ask questions about what we're planning to do with the land."
"Already made that clear, Young Master."
Karl leaned back in his chair, allowing himself a moment of satisfaction. The oil reserves were secured. Now he just needed to wait for the right moment to begin extraction and refining operations, probably 5 to 10 years from now when he had the industrial infrastructure and technical expertise in place.
But that was a long-term project. For now, he had more immediate concerns.
---
The Dalion Empire was at the height of its power right now. No other empire on the known landmass of the Harshan Continent could seriously contend with it, not militarily, not economically, not politically.
The empire's reach extended across vassal kingdoms, protectorates, and tributary states, all bound together through a combination of military superiority, trade dominance, and carefully maintained political marriages between the imperial family and local nobility. This made it naturally prosperous and rich, a perfect environment for what Karl had in mind.
He planned to open shops, introducing soap. Scented soap, specifically.
The soap industry in this era wasn't nearly as advanced as people might think. Most soap was crude, made from animal fat and lye with minimal processing, harsh on the skin and often causing rashes, dryness, and irritation. People washed with it because they had no better option, but the quality was terrible.
Karl knew how to solve that. Glycerin retention, proper saponification temperatures, essential oil infusions, moisturizing additives. Simple chemistry that didn't exist here yet.
The parchlands could wait for now. He didn't have the necessary technology to extract oil or refine it into anything useful. Drilling equipment, distillation columns, pipeline infrastructure, all of that was decades away from being feasible.
But soap? Soap he could do right now with materials already available.
"I'll task you with something, Earla. I want you to buy land in Gamascus. Make sure it's near noble households, high-traffic areas where the wealthy shop. And some here in our district as well."
Karl opened a wooden container in the back of his desk drawer and pulled out several sheets of parchment covered in detailed architectural drawings.
In his past life, he'd been an engineer, civil engineering with a focus on infrastructure and urban planning. He'd also been obsessed with history and technological advancement to the point where he was basically a walking encyclopedia.
The original Karl, the one who'd occupied this body before? Useless. Didn't know shit.
But now, with his modern knowledge and engineering expertise, Karl had everything he needed to design something far beyond this era's standards.
What he handed Earla was the design for the shop he would introduce. It was based on modern retail concepts, clean layouts, attractive window displays, organized product sections, but rendered in Rococo style to fit the aesthetic expectations of this world.
Sweeping curves, ornate moldings, pastel colors, gilded accents. Beautiful, elegant, designed to attract wealthy customers who appreciated luxury.
But first, he needed to establish the production company. He'd already decided on the name: Volvo. It sounded foreign, sophisticated, memorable. People in this world had no idea it was a Swedish car manufacturer from another timeline.
Here, it would become synonymous with quality soap and, eventually, other hygiene products.
"I want you to acquire at least medium-sized parcels of land in Gamascus, enough for multiple storefronts and a central production facility. As for capital, you can draw directly from my personal funds. I'm authorizing up to 100,000 Marks for land acquisition and initial construction."
Earla's sharp eyes scanned the architectural drawings, her expression neutral but attentive. She was too professional to show surprise, but Karl could tell she was impressed by the level of detail.
Floor plans, elevation views, material specifications, even estimated construction timelines. This wasn't amateur work.
"These designs are quite elaborate, Young Master. May I ask what you intend to sell in these establishments?"
"Soap," Karl said simply. "High-quality, scented soap. Moisturizing formulas that won't destroy people's skin like the garbage they're using now. Lavender, rose, citrus, sandalwood. Different scents for different preferences, packaged beautifully, marketed to nobility and the rising merchant class."
Earla nodded slowly, processing the information. "The current soap market is dominated by guild manufacturers who produce in bulk for common use. Their products are inexpensive but, as you say, quite harsh."
She paused. "Nobles typically import soap from overseas, from the Velthara Dominion or the Sarthian Caliphate, at significant expense."
Karl leaned forward slightly, his tone growing more animated. "Exactly. Which means there's a massive gap in the market. The guilds produce cheap, terrible soap that tears your skin apart. The imports are good quality but absurdly expensive because of shipping costs, tariffs, and the fact that foreign merchants know they can charge whatever they want."
He tapped the architectural drawings on the desk. "We're going to slot right into the middle. Domestic luxury soap that matches or exceeds imported quality at a fraction of the price. Nobles get better soap for less money, merchants and wealthy families who couldn't afford imports suddenly have access to premium products, and we capture an entire market segment that's currently being ignored."
Earla's lips curved into a faint smile, the kind of expression she wore when she saw a particularly clever business maneuver. "A sound strategy, Young Master. The imperial court alone has over 500 noble families in residence in Gamascus, not counting visiting dignitaries, wealthy merchants, and the upper echelons of the military officer corps. The potential customer base is substantial."
"Exactly. And once we establish the brand in Gamascus, we expand to other major cities. Surtha, the old Abilon capital, has a growing merchant class since the conquest. The port cities along the Carsa Minor are already familiar with luxury goods thanks to Mother's trade networks."
Karl leaned back. "We'll franchise the model, open shops in every major urban center across the empire."
Earla made notes in her ledger with precise, efficient strokes. "When do you intend to begin production?"
"As soon as the land is secured and the facilities are built. I'll need to source raw materials. Tallow or olive oil for the soap base, lye, essential oils for scenting, beeswax for packaging seals, decorative boxes or wrapping paper."
He continued, "I'll also need to hire skilled laborers and train them in the production process. The formulas will remain proprietary, known only to a select few trusted employees under strict confidentiality agreements."
"Understood. I'll begin identifying suitable properties in Gamascus immediately. Should I prioritize locations near the Imperial Plaza, where most high nobles conduct their shopping?"
"Yes, but also look for locations near the Theater District and the Diplomatic Quarter. Wealthy merchants, foreign dignitaries, and upper-class families frequent those areas. We want visibility in multiple affluent neighborhoods, not just one. The more exposure, the faster the brand grows."
Earla nodded, jotting down additional notes. "And for the production facility? Will that be located here on the estate, or do you prefer a separate industrial site?"
Karl considered for a moment. "Separate site, but still within our controlled territory. I don't want soap production happening on the main estate grounds. The smell during manufacturing can be unpleasant, especially during the saponification process when the lye reacts with the fats."
He gestured toward the window. "I'd rather keep industrial operations at a distance from the family residences. Find a location with access to clean water sources, good ventilation, and enough space for storage, packaging, and shipping operations."
"Understood, Young Master. I'll have preliminary reports ready within the week, including cost estimates for land acquisition, construction, and initial material sourcing."
Karl nodded, satisfied. This was just the beginning. Soap would be the entry point, the product that established Volvo as a trusted brand associated with quality and luxury. Once that was successful, he could expand into other hygiene and personal care products. Shampoo, toothpaste, skin creams, perfumes, scented candles. Eventually, he'd revolutionize personal care across the entire empire, and the profits would fund even larger ventures down the line.
"One more thing, Earla. Absolute discretion on this project. No one outside this household needs to know what we're planning until the shops are ready to open and stocked with product. I don't want competitors trying to copy the concept or sabotage our supply chains before we're even established in the market."
"Of course, Young Master. I'll ensure all transactions are handled discreetly through intermediaries. The land purchases will be registered under shell entities until we're ready to publicly associate them with the Atticus name."