It was completely dark out by the time we returned to the Galen Company. Rashid awaited us inside, wearing his usual smile.
“Welcome back, Noor. You look quite satisfied. Everything went well, I take it?”
“Yeah. It was more work than I expected, but we managed to visit every location.”
We’d spent the day rushing to the places on Rashid’s list, hurrying because we knew that—just like at the Galen Company—there were people clinging to life in cramped rooms who needed our help. The staff at the various slave trading houses must have been warned of our arrival because they let us through after a quick explanation, exactly as Rashid had said they would.
Although the other trading houses’ conditions were better than those at the Galen Company, that wasn’t saying much. Everywhere we went, we found minor variations on the same theme: the injured and sick languishing in tiny rooms thick with stagnant air.
For the sake of those in need, Lynne and I divided up our responsibilities. Anyone who seemed likely to make a quick recovery came to me and my [Low Heal], while those requiring more specialized care or medical expertise went to Lynne. The rest of our party acted as our assistants, shopping for supplies and lending a hand where needed.
Ines and Mina were in charge of procuring clean clothes and hygiene items, while Rolo and Sirene managed the distribution of water and other provisions. We also sought help from the trading houses’ staff, parceling out labor so that everything we needed to do got done.
Mina’s contributions surprised me the most. She was a powerhouse, despite her small stature, able to carry as much as Ines without breaking a sweat. Heavy loads didn’t seem to bother her; she completed her work quickly and nimbly before moving on to help Rolo and Sirene of her own accord. By the time we were done, she’d carried more supplies than anyone.
Partly due to her unexpected efficiency—and partly because the slave trading houses all operated in the same district—we had managed to complete our objective within the day. But rescuing the slaves had given rise to a new problem. We’d released everyone at once, and the trading houses hadn’t had space to accommodate them all. As it stood, corridors, gardens, and even customer reception rooms were full to bursting. It wasn’t bad enough that anyone had overflowed onto the street, and we’d taken precautions before our departure—leaving them with food, clothes, and other supplies, and entrusting the trading houses’ staff with their care—but the sheer density of people meant we couldn’t leave things be for long.
Although we had a mountain of problems still to deal with, we’d managed to get the bare minimum out of the way. Everyone who was sick or injured had been taken care of—not bad at all for only half a day’s work.
“We owe our success to how hard you worked, Mina,” I told her.
“Thank you!” she replied. “I did my best!”
“Rigel’s contributions were rather significant as well,” Rashid noted, patting the boy on the back. “Give him his due praise as well, won’t you, Noor?”
The younger of the twins bashfully scratched his cheek. “O-Only because of your guidance, Mister Rashid. I hardly—”
“No need to be modest,” Rashid insisted. “You were easy to teach, being such a quick learner.”
“Thanks, Rigel,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
“No... Thank you, Mister Noor.”
“Good job, Rigel!” Mina added, flexing her slender arms.
At that, the siblings shared warm smiles. It was great seeing them in such high spirits—but before I could get sentimental, Rashid clapped me on the shoulder and presented me with a sheaf of papers.
“Before I forget—here,” he said. “These belong to you.”
“What are they?” I asked.
“Is it not obvious? They’re deeds.”
“Deeds?”
“Yes, to almost every slave trading house in the city. Fourteen of the seventeen with House Sarenza’s permission to conduct business in the capital, to be precise, all under your name on official documentation.”
“Oh, okay.”
I thumbed through the papers, counting them. Yep—there really were fourteen. The thought that a handful of documents could represent ownership of those massive buildings we’d visited struck me as unusual.
“I was thinking this earlier,” I said, “but there aren’t as many traders as I expected.”
“The slave industry is rather strict when it comes to acquiring business permits,” Rashid explained. “And the trading houses themselves aren’t usually so easy to acquire—rarely does one show up on the market. The sellers were very surprised to hear that someone was snapping them all up. As a result, the market price has soared.”
He grinned as he studied some kind of price sheet.
“Still,” Rashid said, “this is only the beginning. Our work won’t be over until we’ve sold the management rights to their empty husks back to clueless speculators at inflated prices. Ah, I can’t help but laugh when I think about the scale of our profit margin. Trade truly never ceases to entertain. Oh, but here—today’s profits.”
Frowning, I accepted the pouch that my smiling companion held out to me. “Profit? I thought you were spending the money.”
“Oh, I was. Purchasing the trading houses was a considerable expense. But I more than recouped it through other dealings.”
“You...recouped it?”
“I told you, didn’t I? That I would conduct some business and give you the profits.”
“Yes, I suppose you did...”
The whole situation confused me. How could Rashid have spent so much and still made money?
“It’s all in kingsgolds, for ease of transportation,” he noted, indicating the pouch. “There was the option of logging it into an account book, but I surmised that physical coin would be more convenient for you, given your near-future plans. Just so you know, it’s all good, clean money, earned through a long series of minor purchases and sales. It makes for a respectable sum. Please, think nothing of taking it.”
Rashid wore a contented smile, but the weight of the pouch didn’t match how lightly he was treating it.
“Wait,” I said. “These coins are all kingsgolds?”
“Yes. And what you hold now is but a fraction of what I made.”
“A...fraction?”
“Well, there are only so many kingsgolds in circulation. The rest of the money had to be converted into platinums and greatgolds. See those sacks over there? There wasn’t room for them in Galen’s vaults, so we had to leave them out here in the open.”
I turned to see a great mound of sacks piled near the entrance. I wouldn’t have believed they were all stuffed full of money if not for the coins spilled out onto the floor.
“Isn’t it troublesome how much space coin takes up in physical form?” Rashid commiserated. “Still, Galen’s been kind enough to volunteer as caretaker. Isn’t that right, Galen?”
“B-But of course!” the plump merchant exclaimed. “I, Galen, swear upon my life that not a single coin of Master Noor’s shall escape my watchful eye!”
“Now, I’m sure this goes without saying...” Rashid began, “but if even one gald is embezzled...”
“P-Perish the very thought!” Galen’s tone took a notably higher pitch. “I... I hadn’t even considered the idea!”
Rashid turned back to me. “As you can see, dear Galen can guarantee the safekeeping of your entire fortune. I would advise leaving it here for now and withdrawing from it as necessary.”
As cheery as my companion seemed to be, I faced a difficult quandary. I’d already been at a loss for how to spend my riches; now, I had even more. It felt like the problem had only compounded upon itself.
“Is something the matter, Noor?” Rashid asked. “Unsure how to spend it all, I assume?”
“Yeah. How did you know? To be honest with you, I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Hear that, Rigel? I’d say this is a good time to put forward your idea.”
“Y-Yes, Mister Rashid,” the boy stammered. “Um, Mister Noor? I have a proposal.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
Rigel exchanged a glance and a nod with Rashid, then took a step toward me. “It is not my intention to overstep,” he began nervously, “but if I am correct, Miss Lynneburg’s and your rounds of the slave trading houses have resulted in a large number of people who now have nowhere to go.”
“They have, yeah. They’re filling the corridors at this point, so we’re not sure what to do. I’m surprised you thought so far ahead.”
Rigel had hit the nail on the head. Because we’d acted without thinking, the trading houses were now bursting at the seams. We couldn’t leave them in their current state for long, so whatever solution we decided on would need to be implemented soon.
“My understanding is that you’re the current owner of the City Forgotten by Time,” Rigel said. “Would moving everyone there not be the best option?”
“The City Forgotten by Time...” I muttered. “Could we really...?”
Space wouldn’t be an issue. I could see there being an abundance of available rooms, and relocating everyone would surely be easier than trying to find new homes for them in the capital. The conditions would likely be better too. In that sense, it wasn’t a bad idea, but when it came to transportation on such a large scale...
“It’s a nice thought, but is it actually feasible?” I asked.