Chapter 123

“What happened… This… where should I even begin?” Nina grew nervous again, fumbling for words and unsure of where to start. “Let me think.”

(Where was that sharp, confident businesswoman who had just been asking me about contracts, bonds, investments, or loans? How does she even talk to clients like this?)

Aegor felt a pang of concern for her but vaguely realized that his presence might be making her uneasy. Still… was talking to him really that intimidating?

Not wanting to make things harder for her, Aegor decided to take the lead. “Forget it. I’ll ask, and you answer. When did you start managing things here?”

“Just a few days after you left. Lord Tyrion stayed here with me for over a month, teaching me everything. It’s only been less than half a month since I started running things on my own.”

“Hmm. When I walked in, what were you doing?”

“I was going over the accounts… revenues and expenditures for the Night’s Watch industries, wages for the logistics and security departments, things like that.”

“Industries?” Aegor blinked. “How many factories do we even have? And how many men has the security department recruited?”

“The second factory is under construction. The investment came from that merchant who defaulted on his grain and supply contract before you left—he paid you a penalty, remember? As for the security department, we’ve recruited nearly a hundred men, all under the age of thirty, with clean records and local roots, just as you instructed.” Nina hesitated, wanting to scratch her head but worrying about ruining her hairstyle, so she awkwardly lowered her hand. “Each factory has its own accountant who handles its books first, and everything is then sent to me for review. It looks like a lot, but it’s not overwhelming. The most challenging part is processing applications for start-up loans. Lord Tyrion requires every application to include a detailed explanation and budget, right down to the last silver stag. I have to assess the risks and profitability before passing them on to him for final approval.”

“Wait—loans?” Aegor straightened in his chair, startled. He had only been asking casually, but each answer was more surprising than the last. He’d heard the word “loan” when he entered but had been too tired to process it. Now it hit him. “We’re… loaning money? Do we even have the funds for that?”

“No—” Nina jumped at Aegor’s sudden movement and quickly waved her hands in explanation. “Not yet. For now, our funds are just enough to cover expenses, with no surplus. But Lord Tyrion analyzed the net profits and estimated that we’ll start seeing extra funds by next month. He said, ‘We can’t let gold dragons rot in a vault; they need to work and multiply.’ So he created this start-up loan program to help people like me and my brother—those with good ideas and inventions but no money to scale them up.”

Aegor took a deep breath. This hadn’t been part of his original plan. He had only casually mentioned the concept of loans to Tyrion as an idea, and now the Imp had turned it into reality with incredible efficiency. Straightening further, Aegor began flipping through the stacks of “loan applications” on the desk.

...

The applications covered a wide range of proposals—small eateries, clothing shops, and even bookstores trying to follow recent trends. These were straightforward and didn’t hold Aegor’s interest for long. What intrigued him were the applications under “new inventions and innovations.”

In this era, literacy was rare, and concise, well-written proposals were even rarer. Aegor carefully read through the first one, which described the invention of solid soap. Until now, most cleaning agents were powders or pastes. This innovator had transformed the material into solid blocks, suggesting the addition of fragrances and medicinal ingredients to create scented and medicinal soaps. Westerosi had no concept of germs, but this was already a highly advanced idea.

The second application was similar to the first. The writer had improved the formula for lipstick, using plant-based dyes and pigments derived from insects, significantly reducing the toxicity of traditional mineral-based cosmetics. Moreover, the applicant had combined wax and oils to solidify the product into sticks. Aegor’s curiosity piqued, and he compared it with the first application, quickly realizing both were from the same person.

Looking up at Nina, who was standing nearby, Aegor voiced a bold guess. “Nina, where did you get the lipstick you’re wearing?”

“This? It’s a sample from that applicant…” Nina widened her eyes innocently at Aegor. “I just wanted to test it. The sample’s still in the drawer—I didn’t take it home!”

“No need to panic; I didn’t say you couldn’t use it.” Aegor chuckled. “You look very beautiful with it on. Just don’t overdo it, and try not to ingest it. Even if the inventor claims it’s non-toxic, that doesn’t mean it’s entirely harmless.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Approve these two applications immediately. Let Tyrion know—they’re bound to be profitable. As for the funds, there’s no need to wait two months. They’ll be available soon.” Taking the opportunity to discuss lipstick, Aegor openly admired Nina’s appearance once more before returning to the next application.

The proposals were varied and fascinating—someone had outlined the basic concept of a lottery, while another suggested using specialized fabrics to create loose, comfortable undergarments, improving the current situation where common folk wore the same garments as both underwear and outerwear. Each proposal seemed surprisingly viable. Since when did Westeros have so much untapped talent?

Sensing Aegor’s amazement, Nina quietly explained, “There were plenty of unrealistic ideas too. I threw those in the trash… If you want to see them, I can retrieve them.”

“No need. If you discarded them, I trust you had good reason.” Aegor now realized that the loan applications he was reviewing had already been curated. “For the ones that passed review, allocate funds as soon as possible. Do we have a concrete plan for that?”

“Yes. Lord Tyrion categorized the loans into three types, each with distinct rules. I can explain briefly…”

As they spoke, Nina gradually overcame her initial embarrassment at suddenly facing her “boss and idol.” Her cheeks lost their redness, and her usual composure returned. Her clear, methodical explanations quickly brought Aegor up to speed on the latest developments in the Night’s Watch enterprises.

...

The first factory was already fully operational, which Aegor knew. With continuous improvements in technology, the cost of paper production had dropped to less than half of its original level. Though paper itself was becoming less valuable, its perception as a luxury item hadn’t yet changed. With no competitors in the market and stable order prices, the industry was experiencing absurdly high profit margins. Last month alone, the factory’s three production lines had operated continuously, generating over 400 gold dragons in revenue for the Night’s Watch enterprises. As the initial investment had just been recouped, the net profit remained unclear.

The Night’s Watch bonds had also weathered their initial challenges. After surviving a major redemption wave, their reliability was recognized, and their reputation grew through word of mouth. With more people actively seeking to purchase bonds, Tyrion had decisively lowered their returns to stabilize the cash flow and emphasize the higher returns from investments and partnerships. Even before Lord Buckwell’s return to King’s Landing, the first major investment—over a thousand gold dragons—had been secured.

As for the loans, Tyrion had divided them into three categories:Small short-term loans of up to five gold dragons, available to any King’s Landing resident who could provide proof of identity and address. These loans had minimal requirements and were not yet available to outsiders.Standard business loans for shop owners, requiring asset collateral or a guarantor, with reasonable interest rates.Risk investments for inventions and innovations, which technically weren’t loans at all. Under this scheme, approved applications resulted in the Night’s Watch enterprises outright purchasing the invention. All development, marketing, and related costs would be covered by the enterprises, while the inventor would receive half of the profits from the first workshop or storefront—permanently.

This last category meant that ownership of the invention would belong entirely to the Night’s Watch, while the inventor could only enjoy partial benefits.

These terms felt strikingly familiar to Aegor. In his past life, modern studios and websites that supported creators operated under similar rules. Creators’ works became studio property, with creators earning only a fraction of the revenue.

For inventors and creators, the choice was stark: either keep their ideas hidden forever, or hand them over to the Night’s Watch. Aegor and Tyrion would feast on the profits, while they settled for scraps.

It seemed unfair, but such were the rules set by those with resources—the so-called capitalists. If you didn’t like it, you didn’t have to participate. But if you did, you couldn’t complain about the rules. Without the prospect of high returns, no one would risk their wealth on such ventures.

There were even more changes—too many to explain in detail. Aegor felt like a gamer who had been disconnected during a match, only to reconnect and find that his team had already pushed into the enemy’s base. In the two months he had been away from King’s Landing, acting as a “ghost” for sixty days, the development of the Night’s Watch enterprises had far exceeded his expectations.

Fortunately, his expedition to the Vale hadn’t been fruitless. Otherwise, he would have been too embarrassed to face Tyrion as the supposed “leader of the Night’s Watch enterprises.”

Though he had planned to rest for a day, the flood of information left Aegor restless. He couldn’t wait to see what his self-made commercial empire had become.