Dragging his exhausted body home, Ledes let out a long breath. Fooling people was easy, but fooling a bunch of seasoned old hands was far from simple.
If he had a choice, Ledes would never have taken on this thorny job, not even for the chance to expand his connections.
The more he learned, the more clearly Ledes understood the cruelty of this circle. Nobles needed to compete too. A hollow noble without power, wealth, or fiefs was really nothing much.
Of course, even a hollow noble could still live better than ninety-nine percent of ordinary people, so long as he was willing to put down his airs.
Generally speaking, as long as one abandoned one's bottom line, getting rich was easy. For example, marrying into a nouveau riche family.
So long as one possessed a hereditary title recognized by mainstream society, the nouveau riche of the Americas would swarm over them, offering houses, cars, and cash. It was simply far too comfortable.
In truth, Ledes was also one of those down-and-out nobles. Otherwise, he would not have served as the link in transactions between power and money.
Any noble with even a little family wealth would not do this sort of dirty work. It seemed highly profitable and capable of bringing in countless connections, but in reality, it also cut them off from high society.
No matter how good the relationships appeared on the surface, the position of a "white glove" had already determined that they belonged to different worlds.
Once something went wrong and danger arose, people like Ledes could be discarded at any moment.
Compared to the bigwigs lurking behind the scenes, Ledes was the most anxious. If the arrested Jewish capitalists opened their mouths, no one knew whether the bigwigs behind them would be implicated, but