Rolling around on the tarps were beads of uniform size and color, and touching them confirmed that they felt just like the ones made in the workshop. The material went beyond filling the large basin; it formed a small hill of light oxide-brown beads—enough to fill plenty of cushions.
“Aha ha ha!” Though it wasn’t clear who was first to laugh, it was clear that—after the nerves of learning how to enchant, doing the experiments, fatigue, and this unspoken camaraderie that had emerged—whoever it was had infected everyone else, and soon all were guffawing here at the grounds of the villa.
Guido brought a pile of cloth and suggested that everyone help erode that mound of pale brown beads by taking some home. Their safety would be tested by the Scalfarottos’ mages and alchemists, who would even stabilize their state as a precaution. Multiple enchantments were difficult enough under ordinary circumstances, so the fact that these mages could conduct them freely must have meant they had tons of magic in their reserves; Dahlia was more than a little envious.
Just wrapping up the fine beads in a large cloth made for quite the comfortable seating surface. Once the cushion was made, the question became where to put it in the Green Tower—her bedroom or the living room? Furthermore, the enthusiastic letters requesting priority delivery would come to Dahlia and Forto the very next afternoon.
“I really can’t thank you all enough for your help!” Back at the workshop, Dahlia bowed deeply, followed by Ivano and Jonas.
“Everyone will receive a copy of the experimental results once I have them compiled.” Beside Idaea was a stack of papers containing the data.
She and Ivano had also collected notes during this session, which were now being passed around the group. “As we will also be testing the materials for durability and longevity, it should be a while before they can be put into production. I humbly ask that everyone continue to lend us their strength through this endeavor.”
“The Tailors’ Guild promises our full support.”
“You have the Adventurers’ support as well.”
Given how unreasonable she was being, Dahlia couldn’t have been more thankful for their cooperation. As mentioned, the work was yet to be completed. She would experiment and make similar products; test for durability, safety, and the effects of time on the materials; and check for degradation from sunlight and susceptibility to water, among other things. Literature could provide a frame of reference, though there was very little writing done on slimes. Still, this wasn’t something that only she could do—she had the help of the guilds with commercializing these materials; when it came to research, she had Idaea and the Scalfarottos’ mages, alchemists, and blacksmiths. Dahlia’s role would be to come up with new potential products and conduct quality assurance.
“These materials you’ve made today have all been so wonderful, and I’m excited to see what becomes of them. One way or another, I’m certain that they will bring prosperity to the Rossetti Trading Company.”
Leone agreed with Augusto. “Implementing these materials would indeed be quite profitable. They can be registered before they become commercial products; this cushion fill, for example, ought to be registered as soon as it is confirmed to be safe.”
A magical tool registered in a contract at the Merchants’ Guild guaranteed its inventor the profits they deserved, granting them royalties much like a patent had in her previous world. And though knockoffs or otherwise similar products could be made in secret, the Guild would be totally barred from dealing in them. Furthermore, the counterfeiter’s credit would plummet, and any business they conducted within the capital would be strained at best. This system was an inventor’s best friend. Naturally, there wasn’t much that could be done about counterfeits smuggled out of the country or wholesaled to a fence, and a product could not be registered at the Merchants’ if it and the processes involved in its manufacture required absolute secrecy.
“Thank you for the advice,” Dahlia said—to Leone, but also to everyone else at the table. “I understand this will be a bother, but I ask everyone to please add your signatures when the contracts for the magical tools are prepared.”
“Huh?”
“Hmm?”
“What?”
It was a little surprising how all eyes pointed in unison toward her, but she reflected upon her words—she had essentially said, “Every one of you, get over to the Guild the minute the contracts are ready.” She scrambled to correct herself. “Oh, um, I understand that you all are very busy! I did not intend to trouble you to visit the Merchants’ Guild, but once I scrutinize the contracts, I will have them sent around for everyone to sign. I understand it might be very inconvenient, but I hope I can have everyone’s suggestions on how to split the profits.”
Augusto raised his right hand. “That isn’t the problem, Chairwoman Rossetti. Rather, you would like my signature on the contracts?”
“Yes.”
“Erm, you are saying that includes me as well?”
“Yes, Mr. Forto. Everybody here helped, so I would like everybody here to sign them.” I mean, that much is obvious. Each person’s share was based on their contribution, but they all had exchanged ideas and taken part in the experiments—they could not have achieved what they had today without this communal labor. But maybe this would be difficult for the Guild. “Um, is there perhaps a rule prohibiting individual names on the contracts?”
Leone returned a smile. “Not at all. I would be grateful to put down my signature.” Augusto and Forto were likely shocked because they had never collaborated on developing a magical tool before, then.