Philip trudged through the towering gates of the Redwood Estate, practically sleepwalking despite it being only midday. He felt utterly drained—the duel earlier that morning had sapped more than just his energy; it gnawed at his nerves, leaving him hollow now that the adrenaline had evaporated. Despite the System's assurance that old Philip's "muscle mory" and her guidance would help him walk out alive, in the back of his mind, he wasn't sure if he was going to walk out alive up to the very mont of the duel.
Yet he was here, alive, but trying hard to contain the urge to flop into a bed and not move for a week. As he pushed open the great double doors of the estate, he noticed sothing jarringly different. Usually, the foyer was eerily quiet, with only a few maids pattering about, but now the place bustled with far more people—so n in Redwood livery even carried crates around.
Philip paused, letting the door swing shut behind him. "What in the...?"
He caught sight of two n in matching uniforms, wearing crisp waistcoats with Redwood's crest. They hurried past him, nodding respectfully.
"Afternoon, Master Philip," one greeted.
"Afternoon," he mumbled back, mind spinning. Two new staffers, apparently. He didn't recall signing off on any big hiring spree. Shaking off his confusion, he unbuttoned his cloak.
Footsteps sounded. From the hallway erged Albert, looking as poised and proper as always, an armful of docunts in his grasp. Upon seeing Philip, his face softened marginally.
"Master Philip," he greeted in his low, calm tone, though concern flickered beneath his composure. "Welco back. You must be exhausted after... well, everything."
Philip managed a shaky laugh. "Tired is an understatent," he admitted, running a hand over his face. "This morning's duel nearly killed in more ways than one."
At the mory, a faint chill scurried down his spine, but he pushed it away. "Anyway, Albert... I see the estate is practically bustling with new faces. Did I miss sothing recently?"
He gave a succinct nod. "Yes, Master. Ever since we received funds from dissolving your share in that hotel chain, I've invested in necessary repairs—and staff. Redwood was severely understaffed. Now that we can finally afford it, I've employed more people for upkeep and orchard roles."
Philip blinked, quickly glancing around the newly spruced-up foyer. "So that's why there are more people around."
"Precisely." Albert allowed a small smile. "We need them. The orchard alone can't be sustained by skeleton crews. The estate, too, had major housekeeping gaps."
A wave of relief and mild guilt swept over him. "I guess that's good. We were running on fus." Then, noticing the stack of papers in his arms, he frowned. "But I sense a 'but' in your voice?"
Albert exhaled, flipping open one of the papers. "I discovered sothing while reviewing the Redwood estate account. A... large withdrawal. Specifically, ten thousand Continental dollars was shifted from the main estate account to your personal account."
Philip froze. Ten thousand? That was like the amount the System had siphoned off from his total wealth to power Natalia during the orchard ambush and that earlier fiasco. A whisper reverberated in his mind again: Careful...
"R-right," he finally said, swallowing. "Wait, you're sure it was ten thousand dollars?"
Albert's stern nod confird it. "Yes, Master. I suspected you authorized it. I was perplexed but thought it might've been you, or perhaps a miscommunication. Either way, we need clarity."
Philip felt his gut clench. "Er, yes. That was ," he lied briskly, trying to maintain a casual expression. "I intended it for a... personal project. Everything has been so hectic with the orchard and, well, the duel. I forgot to ntion it. My apologies, Albert."
Albert's eyes narrowed, but he remained polite. "May I ask the nature of this project?"
Philip forced a thin smile. "It was so small side project I was considering. I genuinely forgot what it was for since it was so insignificant."
Albert studied him. Then, with a quiet sigh, he closed the ledger. "Master Philip... if we keep on considering a few thousand dollars to be a small amount, the Estate will forever teeter on bankruptcy."
A pang of remorse struck him. He felt bad having to lie to Albert, but explaining the truth to Albert would likely just get him another appointnt with the psychiatrist. "You're absolutely right," he agreed, voice subdued. "I'm sorry. I will watch my spending more from now on."
His quick capitulation must have surprised Albert, because Albert's deanor softened. He nodded slowly. "Very well, young master. I understand you've had bigger crises." His mouth tightened. "I'll let this slide, but I hope you didn't sink that money into so romantic escapade again."
He almost choked. "No! I've been busy trying to survive, rember? Lydia can attest to that."
That frank honesty must've rung true. A flicker of relief crossed Albert's face, and his posture relaxed. "Yes, you've scarcely had a free mont recently. All right. In that case... do get so rest."
He nodded, the tension dropping from his shoulders. "Thank you, Albert. I definitely will."
After Albert left, Philip ambled deeper into the estate. Although he was exhausted, a swirl of new staff and minor renovations piqued his interest. Eventually, he erged into the sunroom, a grand greenhouse-like chamber with a glass ceiling that bathed the interior in midday sunlight. Perfect for an early spring day, the overhead glass revealed a clear sky, while potted flowers in bloom lined the periter. The orchard's young blossoms just beyond the glass glowed with pastel color, pink edges on their petals.
In the center stood a small wrought-iron table, set with a fresh teapot and cups. Perhaps a maid had prepared it at the direction of Lydia. Gratefully, Philip sank into a wicker chair. His shoulders ached from the morning's duel, but the warm sunlight soothed him. Sighing, he poured himself a cup, enjoying the herbal aroma. Finally, so calm.
Then ca that shimr in the air—the telltale sign. He braced himself. Sure enough, the System manifested, long raven hair cascading over her shoulders, an unapologetically voluptuous figure wrapped in a frilly apron and... apparently nothing else.
The apron ended slightly above her upper knee, leaving her outer thighs scandalously bare. Clutched in her hand was an ornate crystal wine bottle, shaped elegantly with gilded filigree.
Philip nearly dropped his teacup. His cheeks seared at the sight in front of him. "W-what now? Why are you here again?"
The System pivoted smoothly, giving him a broad view of those exposed legs. "I thought we shall celebrate your excellent performance this morning! Your first ti surviving a life-and-death situation!"
He swallowed, feeling a prickle at his nose—a sure sign of an impending nosebleed. "Yes, it was... I was half sure I wouldn't walk out alive. But do you have to be so... not dressed?"
She pouted prettily. "Is it my fault your mind leaps to dirty conclusions? Look again."
She stepped in front of him, placing the bottle on the table, and the apron slid farther up her thigh. Philip felt his heart skipped a beat at the sight.
Then, seemingly to prove her point, she half-turned, letting him see her backside. From there, it appeared that she was wearing a strapless one-piece swimsuit of so sort. "See? I am quite dressed. Tsk, so dirty-minded."
Philip's nose started bleeding more furiously. "How am I the dirty-minded one?"
She stifled a giggle. "Oh, co on. I wanted to highlight that I've been 'babysitting you.' The apron stands for caretaker. Minimizing other garnts was ant to keep your focus on the apron. But I guess my physique is just too alluring. What can I do?"
He snorted, blotting the blood with a napkin. "I am sure you didn't just appear to celebrate with ."
With a dramatic eye-roll, she said, "Fine, fine." Then her attire shifted to a sleek professional outfit—a leather pencil skirt hugging her hips down to her knees, a crisp blouse, and a pair of cunning glasses perched on her nose. Voluptuous raven hair still cascaded around her shoulders, maintaining that alluring silhouette. "Happy? Let's get to business."
He let out a relieved sigh, though a flush still colored his cheeks. "Yes. Let's. Why'd you co, exactly?"
She conjured a glowing translucent ledger in midair. "First, your bill," she announced breezily. "I took the liberty of charging the Redwood Estate account an additional ten thousand Continental dollars, funneling it to your personal account, then withdrawing it for Natalia's mana exchange. You rember how every ti Natalia had big fights, I had to supply her with mana by converting the cash in your account into mana? Since your physique just doesn't have what it takes."
Philip almost choked on his tea. "About that, haha. I promise I will start working on my physique soon. I just realized how important it is this morning."
The System gave him an arch smile. "Finally, my child! Anyways, in the future, you can simply ask for the 'deduction balance' ntally. That way, you would know how much was deducted before the accountants start crawling all over your books."
He rubbed his forehead. "You are right. I'll have to be more cautious. But does it have to be that expensive?"
She waved a hand airily. "Think of it as using the money in your account to purchase the mana at the global market price to maintain that façade of logicality. And to ensure no inflation—since fiat currency really is just a piece of paper with no value in itself—I actually have to secretly siphon that mana from sowhere else in the world. And those currencies would magically, and untraceably, appear in the accounts of the people from whom I've taken the mana at my discretion. I won't bore you with the cosmic details."
He sighed, trying not to imagine mana being taken from unsuspecting folks. "Anyway, thanks for clarifying. Next ti, I'll keep track to avoid surprising Albert."
The System gave him a slow, seductive smile, stepping a bit closer. Her voice dipped lower. "Well, I am readily available for you, anyti, anywhere. Just say the word and you will get it." She offered a coquettish wink, leaving Philip's heart racing. "I an the balance, of course."
He cleared his throat loudly, eyes darting away. "R-right. Good to know."
Her grin turned playful. "Now, with the duel fiasco concluded and Natalia's cover successfully established, I'd like to remind you of those tasks I gave you a while back—such as paying off the estate's tax owing, proving your ntal fitness, improving the estate's finances, and eventually finishing your grand mission with Natalia."
He let out a weary chuckle. "So many tasks, so little sanity. Where have you been these last few days anyway? You disappeared."
She flipped a strand of raven hair behind her ear. "I wanted to give you and Natalia so space for so potential... romantic encounters." She laughed when his face reddened. "And I saw that you guys certainly made good use of it."
He rubbed his sore shoulder. "Yeah... it wasn't as fun, trust ."
She pointedly tapped the runic ledger. "Now that the Redwood Estate has so leftover funds, courtesy of your dissolved venture, it's ti to pay the three thousand Continental dollars in overdue orchard taxes. If you delay, they'll slap a lien on your orchard, and you'll be an instant headline again. Let's avoid that, shall we?"
He winced. "Three thousand is like... ten years' wages for an average laborer."
A sarcastic smile curled her lips. "Ah, you owe more in taxes than a normal person sees in a decade. Money, money, it's so funny. That's a rich man's world for you." She sang.
"Sure, let's pay it," he muttered. "Better than being under the spotlight again."
"Speaking of taxes in arrears," she continued, "the interest on that tax owing is eight percent if you delay, which is much higher than the returns of almost all of your current ventures."
He groaned. "Eight percent? That's insane! In my old world, we were stuck at like 1% for the longest ti."
She nodded. "Well, it's now higher too over there. But that's beside the point. The point is that many of your current ventures are vanity projects or forr labors of love that have a return on investnt of -5% to -50%. So, you see why the Redwood Estate will soon be the epicenter of a financial tragedy if you don't act fast."
Philip grimaced. "No wonder Albert and Lydia keep such a watchful eye on the finances. The portfolio is a train wreck."
The System's expression softened. "You might want to restructure or rebalance your holdings, but that's your choice. Also, do note you asked once if Redwood Estate owns more real estate to sell. The direct answer is no. But your grandfather, the Duke of Redwood, holds real estate scattered across the globe. Most of it is in Yorgoria, but there are also quite a few properties beyond the Empire's reach for... safety... reasons."
Philip nodded slowly, recalling the rumors. "I was only curious because I read that the Yorgorian central bank might not be able to lower interest rates, as many expect, if the global trade wars escalate. Isolationism is becoming mainstream, aning tariffs rise, exports fall, inflation soars. That would limit how much the central bank can lower interest rates. Given how the entire Empire's focus has been on stabilizing prices to rein in inflation, I think they would certainly prioritize price stability over monetary support for the economy. In other words, we might end up with a massive negative economic shock that sends the Empire, especially Yorgoria, into a recession while the central bank cannot co to the rescue—or might even exacerbate the problem with liquidity tightening to keep prices stable. Given how leveraged real estate holdings are in Yortinto, any deviation to the upside from the current accepted expectation on future central bank rate moves, real estate values might suffer severely. Hence, if we had any excess property holdings, it's a good ti to sell now and have cash ready. With cash on hand during tis of crisis, we stand a good chance to pick up so assets with high long-term returns."
The System's eyes lit up. "Bravo! I love how you can leverage your old finance expertise to assess macroeconomic trends in this world."
He arched an eyebrow. "You understood that finance jargon?"
She huffed, placing a hand on her curvy hip. "Just because I'm hot doesn't an I'm dumb. I was managing cosmic resource flows back when your ancestors were still running around naked. Sure, the dium is different—money for you, joules for —but the principles remain similar."
He blinked. "Cosmic resource flow? What is that?"
Rolling her eyes, she sighed dramatically. "Silly , I forgot to ntion that before I beca your 'Guide,' I used to be the chief resource officer for this universe for a few billion years. In your finance lingo, I was the CFO of this universe."
He stared, mouth agape. "Then... why be a Guide now, if your expertise was at managing resource flows on a cosmic level? Did you get bored?"
She shrugged with a hint of chagrin. "Bored, yes, but not bored enough to switch. This change was a punishnt for a minor transgression. I have been temporarily demoted to serving as a Guide for you. Once you successfully complete your mission, I will be restored to my old position—though maybe for a new cosmos. But if you fail... well, I have to serve as a Guide for soone else until at least one protégé succeeds. So I'm vested in your success."
Philip stared, mind spinning. "So, what did you do? Destroy a galaxy?"
The System gave a nervous laugh. "It's a long story. So basically, after spending a few billion years balancing entropy in the universe, I developed a habit of dealing with boredom by engaging in playful advances whenever I got the chance. So, while I was on an exchange trip to your old universe a few millennia back, I t the guardian of the Moon for the first ti. He was a really hot bunny. So... I kind of overdid the playful advances. And then I got accused of indecency by the Cosmic Enforcers...But the cosmic court process is very slow so the verdict only ca out last year."
Philip clapped a hand to his forehead. "Why am I not surprised..."
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