For Brando Rothfield, the day had been going rather well.
As the Rothfield Family's representative in the Kingdom of Kront, Brando had been thoroughly in his element lately.
War. Ah, war.
Brando loved war, because the Kingdom of Kront had already borrowed considerable sums from the Rothfield Bank to cope with its crushing financial burden. Especially since war mobilization had begun, ordinary people might have spent every day on edge, but that was certainly not the case for Brando.
In fact, unlike the people of Deburg, he did not even worry about whether the Empire would occupy the city, because it made no difference. Whether Deburg was ruled by the Kingdom of Kront or the Empire, the Rothfield Family's businesses would suffer no losses. This was a matter of finance and credit, just as he had no fear whatsoever that the Kingdom of Kront would turn against them and refuse to repay its debts.
Because if the Kingdom of Kront did that, no private bank would ever be willing to lend it money again.
Credit was the foundation of finance.
The Empire, the Kingdom of Kront, Francis, the Olucci Empire, and the Sasha Alliance were all the same. Whatever their systems, governments, or ideologies, none could defy the laws of capital. And the Rothfield Family spoke for capital. Everyone needed them, whether commoners, nobles, or kings.
They were the true rulers of this world...
Knock, knock, knock.
A harsh knocking interrupted Brando's delightful reverie. He frowned in displeasure and looked toward his office door. But before he could speak, his secretary came rushing in, panic-stricken.
"S-sir! Something terrible has happened!"
"What is it? What kind of conduct is this, panicking like that?"
Brando rebuked his flustered secretary, privately wondering whether he should simply fire him tomorrow.
"What happened?"
"I-it's the