Among the financial elite of the British Empire, there was one na that stood above all others.
A man whose businesses stretched across the British Empire, the United States, and now even Canada.
In Arica, so had begun calling him "the Father of Black Civil Rights."
That man was Jas.
Dragging his exhausted body from bed, Jas rubbed his eyes and sat up slowly.
To the people around him, he was nothing less than a legend.
They called him the King of Capitalists, the man who had built a kingdom of wealth.
Jas could only laugh bitterly at the title.
Certainly, the seat he occupied resembled a throne built from money.
But the true owner of that kingdom was soone else entirely.
In fact, fewer than five people in the entire world knew the truth.
Jas was not the king.
At best, he was the steward.
Well… perhaps a steward with unusually broad authority.
If he wished, he could spend the kingdom's money freely and indulge in luxury.
And the real master of the kingdom would not complain.
The problem was that he never had the ti.
Money piled up endlessly, yet he was too busy to enjoy any of it.
Human beings could grow accustod to anything.
But every ti Jas thought he had adapted to his workload, more responsibilities appeared.
Still, things had improved recently.
He had appointed salaried figureheads to run operations in various regions, giving him at least a little breathing room.
His current goal was simple.
Drive those replacents hard enough that they could eventually take over his workload entirely.
If the man above him refrained from launching any new ventures…
A one-month vacation might finally beco possible.
Unfortunately for Jas—
God had clearly abandoned him.
Alaska
"I recently concluded negotiations with Russia," Killian said casually.
"We're going to buy Alaska."
Jas blinked.
"Alaska? You an the Russian territory above Canada?"
"That's the one."
"We secured it for the bargain price of £1.35 million."
"The problem is Parliant will inevitably complain that even that is too expensive."
"So I'm thinking it would be better if we just purchased it with our own money."
Jas frowned.
"£1.35 million isn't a problem… but spending that kind of money on empty land feels wasteful."
"Empty land?" Killian scoffed.
"If it were really worthless, why would I spend my own money on it?"
"Use our businesses in Canada to place bids."
"We'll need to survey the resources and prepare for extraction."
Jas sighed inwardly.
Of course.
There was no way Killian would ever agree to a deal that involved losing money.
Sohow, the man had already determined that Alaska was full of resources.
And if that was the case…
How much wealth could possibly be buried in that frozen land?
Jas already controlled most of the coal and iron mining rights in Canada.
If Alaska were added to that portfolio—
The scale of wealth would beco almost unimaginable.
"Will we really be able to secure the mining rights that easily?" Jas asked.
"I told you—we're buying the land ourselves."
"The entire purchase price will co from ."
"I'll cover roughly sixty percent using the assets currently attributed to ."
"The remaining forty percent will co from private investors."
"So the remaining forty percent will involve Canadian mining companies?"
Killian nodded.
"Exactly."
"Why not simply pay the entire amount from royal funds?"
Killian shook his head.
"If I end up owning all the resources personally, people will complain later."
"They'll say the land was purchased too cheaply."
"Or that a mber of the royal family should share the profits for the greater good."
Jas sighed.
The money had not even been distributed yet, and already people were imagining how to spend it.
But strangely—
Jas felt no doubt at all.
If Killian said resources would be discovered, then they would be discovered.
The only question was how much.
"So bringing in private investors creates the appearance of sharing profits with the public," Jas said.
"Exactly."
"And coal and iron will be useful imdiately."
"There's also the possibility of gold."
Jas froze.
"…Gold?"
"Yes."
"But if news spreads that gold has been discovered, what do you think will happen?"
"Every fool in the world will rush there."
"Population growth is fine, but the chaos would be unbearable."
Mining rights.
Land regulations.
Efficient extraction technologies.
Infrastructure.
Every step would require massive investnt.
But the reward?
Potentially limitless.
Technically, the rights were being opened to private enterprise.
In reality, those "private enterprises" were all part of Killian's network.
In other words—
Alaska itself would beco a permanent fountain of wealth for Killian.
Preparing the Investnt
"I'll send instructions to Canada imdiately," Jas said.
"Coal companies, iron mining firms, locomotive manufacturers, labor agencies…"
"We'll divide the bids across seven or eight companies."
"That should avoid suspicion."
"Excellent."
Killian stood.
"I suppose I should also deliver a speech in Parliant."
"Sothing like this:
'The most important matter is securing the northern half of North Arica for the British Empire.To achieve that, we must prevent Russian expansion.Therefore I will personally finance the purchase of Alaska.I will not burden British taxpayers with a single penny.'"
"What do you think?"
Jas wiped imaginary tears from his eyes.
"Your generosity moves deeply."
"Soone might ask what you gain from such a sacrifice."
Killian grinned.
"What do I gain?"
"The love and admiration of the loyal citizens of the British Empire, of course."
Jas watched him leave.
His workload had increased again.
But at least there were competent managers in Canada now.
He could squeeze them for labor.
Just as Jas prepared to depart—
Killian spoke again.
"Oh, one more thing."
Jas froze.
"I heard demand for the clothing factories we recently acquired is skyrocketing."
"This is the perfect opportunity to dominate London's fashion industry."
Jas closed his eyes.
Here it cos.
"Mass-produce ready-made clothing for workers."
"And create luxury brands for the upper classes."
"Perhaps items like the high heels worn by the Queen."
"You an products modeled after what Her Majesty wears?"
"Exactly."
"But we'll divide the brands."
"An ultra-luxury brand."
"A slightly lower luxury line."
"And a premium line for the upper middle classes."
Jas sighed.
Killian understood human psychology perfectly.
Visible status symbols.
If people could instantly recognize soone wearing the highest brand, they would feel superior.
And the key advantage?
The ultimate model.
Queen Victoria herself.
With that endorsent, the empire's most prestigious luxury brand could be created overnight.
"Jas," Killian said casually.
"Before you leave for Canada, prepare the launch of these fashion brands."
"…?"
"Who else could I trust with sothing like this?"
"If it succeeds, you'll be dressed head to toe in luxury goods that even aristocrats envy."
Three seconds.
That was how long it took for Jas's admiration to evaporate.
Killian might possess genius bordering on prophecy.
But as an employer—
He was absolutely rciless.
Parliant Accepts
As expected, the Alaska purchase caused controversy at first.
But the issue was quickly resolved.
The opposition's main argunt had been simple:
Why should Britain pay Russia for Alaska at all?
But when it beca clear that private investors would fund most of the purchase—and Killian himself would pay the rest—the critics fell silent.
"Personally, I doubt any capitalist would invest in a frozen wilderness," one Whig politician remarked.
"But if His Royal Highness the Prince Consort intends to use his own fortune, we see no reason to object."
Of course, he could not resist making one final jab.
But what could they do?
The investnt announcent was published.
And within one day, the entire funding target had been t.
The opposition could only stare in confusion.
"How did this happen?"
Eventually they concluded that investors trusted the royal family.
So even worried those investors had wasted their money.
I wondered what their reactions would be—
when Alaska's resources began pouring out.
And how Russia would feel once it realized it had sold Alaska for a re £1.35 million.
Just imagining it made my mouth water.
Arrival in Canada
With the matter settled, preparations for Canada finally began.
For the Queen of the British Empire to visit a colony with her husband was unprecedented.
The governnt mobilized every resource to prepare.
Soon enough—
Victoria and I crossed the Atlantic together.
At first I had worried about spending two weeks aboard ship.
But Victoria handled the voyage surprisingly well.
Occasionally she complained of mild nausea.
But a little seasickness was nothing unusual.
With no urgent ti limit, we treated the voyage like a leisurely cruise.
als together.
Conversations.
Sleeping in the sa cabin.
Sharing jokes with attendants and officials.
It felt like a long-overdue vacation.
Finally—
Canada.
Even before disembarking, thunderous cheers erupted from the harbor.
It was understandable.
After all, the Queen herself had co.
But amid the sea of cheering crowds, soone else caught my eye.
The Governor General of Canada.
The poor man looked half dead.
Dark circles nearly reached his chin.
At his age, working so hard might actually kill him.
And when I thought about who had forced him to work this hard—
Yes.
That would be .
"Your Royal Highness!" the governor shouted.
"Welco back to Canada—!"
Then he realized his mistake.
"Y-Your Majesty! It is the greatest honor of my life that you have co!"
After greeting Victoria, he quietly approached .
"Your Royal Highness," he whispered.
"There is an urgent matter."
"Did sothing happen?"
"…Yes."
"It was not our fault."
He glanced around nervously.
"Four days ago, Arican slave hunters crossed the border while searching for escaped slaves."
"That happens often enough."
"But this ti the group was large."
"And they were heavily ard."
He swallowed.
"There was a firefight."
"There were many casualties."
I nodded slowly.
"How unfortunate."
"And at such a delicate ti, with Her Majesty the Queen visiting."
Arican slave hunters crossing the border.
Opening fire.
Killing people.
And all while the Queen of the British Empire was visiting Canada.
If this beca public—
How frightened Her Majesty might be.
As the Queen's husband and Canada's representative…
I could hardly ignore such an incident.
I clenched my fist in righteous fury.
And bowed my head—
so no one could see the smile creeping onto my lips.
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