Chapter 253

A Deal with the Devil

When presenting a game to investors, what was the best way to convince them to put in as much money as possible?

Most people would probably assume you should emphasize the game’s quality or how enjoyable it was to play. But investors were not the people who would actually be playing it. Unless they happened to be rare enthusiasts who genuinely loved games, they had little interest in whether the combat felt satisfying or whether the story was brilliant.

What investors cared about was profitability.

In other words, the most important part of an investment presentation was never, How good is this game?

It was, How does this game make money?

Embarrassingly enough, it had taken me almost three months after founding my own company to properly understand that.

Back when I was a university student, I had simply enjoyed making whatever games I wanted to make. When I first became an employee, I had been too busy implementing whatever features the company ordered me to build to think about anything beyond development itself. Only after two or three years, once I had enough breathing room to look beyond the code in front of me, did I really begin to understand what a revenue model was.

That was when I finally understood why companies created absurdly expensive premium items, or why they ran randomized sales events that sometimes felt one step removed from gambling.

Then why had I left my old company even after understanding the reason?

Because I had believed there was no need to go that far.

If a game was genuinely good, players would naturally gather around it. And if enough players enjoyed it, surely the company could make money without constantly squeezing them for more.

It had sounded perfectly reasonable at the time.

Only after becoming the head of my own studio did I realize how naive that belief had been.

Whenever I approached investors while relying almost entirely on the quality of our game, I was thoroughly defeated. After that, I began studying revenue structures and business models seriously, and eventually came to understand something painfully simple.

Making games was still a business.

And business, at its core, meant understanding what the customer wanted.

Just as an investor’s primary concern was not gameplay but return on investment, I had to understand what actual players were willing to spend money on. Were our main customers teenagers, people in their twenties, or older adults? Were they mostly men or women? What kinds of features were they most likely to pay for?

Most importantly, how could those features be integrated into the game without damaging the game itself?

A monetization system that had nothing to do with how a game was designed could easily destroy it. In competitive games where everyone was supposed to fight under roughly equal conditions, for example, directly selling raw combat power would undermine the entire foundation of the experience. That was why those games tended to rely instead on cosmetic purchases such as character appearances and visual effects.

And once you went deeper, understanding the tastes of the core audience became just as important. There had even been stories back on Earth about game companies making absurd amounts of money from a single cosmetic outfit simply because they understood exactly what their most dedicated players wanted.

Through that kind of analysis, I had eventually built revenue models suited to the games my company was developing, and those models were what finally allowed me to persuade investors.

Was that really so different from the company I had criticized before leaving?

Of course it was.

We were making relatively small games, not enormous projects designed around customers who might spend fortunes. Even if I had tried to sell outrageously expensive items, nobody would have bought them. I had compromised with reality, but gameplay had remained my priority. I had simply designed a low-cost, high-volume revenue model that fit naturally into the games themselves.

The important point was simple.

Making games was business.

And in business, understanding the customer’s needs came first.

From that perspective...

“This is the item.”

The object I placed on the table was something Baron Gio Delmont would desperately want.

“You truly believe I need... that?”

The baron’s practiced expression finally cracked as he stared incredulously at the necklace lying before him.

Anyone could tell at a glance that it had been designed for a woman.

“To be precise, Baron, I do not expect you to wear it. I believe it would make an excellent gift.”

“You are not referring to my daughter, I hope.”

His expression darkened further.

Apparently, he had reached the same misunderstanding Wiggins had earlier and assumed I was trying to win his daughter’s affection.

If that had actually been my goal, I would never have approached him this way. Announcing to an extremely protective father that I intended to court his precious daughter would have been spectacularly stupid.

“It is indeed intended as a gift for your daughter, but I have not finished explaining.”

I gestured toward the necklace.

“That necklace is an artifact.”

“Oh?”

A small amount of genuine interest appeared in his eyes.

“An artifact?”

“Yes. Would you press the gemstone at its center?”

Baron Delmont picked up the necklace and pressed the gem.

Hummm.

A translucent sphere immediately formed in front of him.

“The necklace contains [Barrier], a Fourth Circle defensive spell. Once activated, it requires four days to recharge, but pressing the gemstone produces a spherical barrier around the wearer.”

“A Fourth Circle spell...”

For the first time since our conversation began, Baron Delmont looked genuinely interested.

He examined the necklace and the fading Barrier for a moment before tilting his head.

“However, what is that sound? I have been hearing something from your direction ever since the spell activated.”

There was indeed a strange warning noise coming from my pocket.

“Hahaha. As I mentioned earlier, the necklace itself is only part of the gift.”

I reached into my pocket.

“The item I truly came to sell you is this.”

I placed a round object roughly the size of my palm on the table. At first glance, it looked somewhat like a compass.

“This device is linked to the necklace. Whenever the necklace activates [Barrier], this device produces the warning sound you are hearing now.”

“I see.”

Baron Delmont nodded, but his expression still asked the obvious question.

Why would anyone need that?

“And as you can see, there is a red light glowing near the center.”

“Yes.”

“That light indicates the necklace’s location. If the necklace moves east, the light shifts east as well. Put simply, as long as you possess this device, you can determine where the necklace is at any time.”

Both devices had been created using techniques derived from the Sigmund School. The concept itself came from a tracking device I vaguely remembered from old entertainment back on Earth. The necklace’s appearance was copied from the one I had purchased in the market yesterday, while the magical engraving materials came from the supplies I had brought from the alliance, particularly the materials intended for establishing communication relay stations.

Even after hearing that explanation, the baron still seemed uncertain.

Of course he did.

Nothing like this existed here, so he had no frame of reference for what it could actually do.

I decided to make it painfully simple.

“If your daughter wears this necklace, Baron, you will always be able to find her.”

“!!!”

His entire expression changed.

“Furthermore, the device will alert you whenever she activates [Barrier], and I have also configured it to warn you if the necklace moves beyond a predetermined distance.”

I smiled.

“So if your daughter is ever placed in danger, you will know immediately.”

In simple terms, the compass was a tracking device and the necklace was a personal protection artifact.

Gio Delmont was famous throughout Whitestone City for being hopelessly devoted to his daughter. Even back on Earth, in a world filled with communication devices, security cameras, and countless ways to contact someone instantly, fathers still worried endlessly whenever their daughters went out alone.

How much worse would that anxiety be in a world like this, where a notoriously unruly daughter could disappear into a city with no way to contact her?

These two artifacts could erase that worry almost completely.

Gulp.

The sound of Baron Delmont swallowing echoed through the room.

“I-I will buy both.”

He barely managed to keep his voice steady.

“How much?”

A relaxed smile appeared on my face.

“Tell me what you believe they are worth.”

I was genuinely curious.

More precisely, I wanted to know what value he placed not on the artifacts themselves, but on the daughter they could protect.

“...”

Silence filled the room while the baron considered the price.

Eventually, he made his decision.

“Five thousand gold.”

Wiggins’s mouth fell open.

“F-five thousand...”

Baron Delmont continued without looking away from me.

“After setting aside the funds required to keep my merchant company operating and pay my employees, that is nearly all the money I can immediately provide.”

It was certainly enough to justify Wiggins’s reaction.

One gold was worth ten silver. Four experienced mercenaries spending two days hunting near the outer region of the Grimwood Mountains might earn around one hundred silver in total. Split four ways, even highly capable mercenaries risking their lives for two full days would walk away with only two or three gold each.

Five thousand gold represented the kind of money a veteran mercenary might need ten or fifteen years of relentless monster hunting to earn, assuming they somehow spent nothing.

Once food, equipment maintenance, replacement weapons, lodging, and every other living expense were included, even an elite mercenary might struggle to save that amount after twenty years of work.

Back on Earth, this would probably be worth several hundred thousand dollars, maybe more.

And this man was prepared to pay it immediately for a necklace and a tracking device.

His title might only be baron, but a wealthy merchant was still a wealthy merchant.

“Agreed.”

I smiled and extended my hand.

While doing so, I casually elbowed Wiggins in the side.

If he kept staring at the price like that, people might start thinking I was running a scam.

We shook hands.

Then Baron Delmont looked down at the necklace again, and his expression suddenly became troubled.

“There is one problem.”

“What is it?”

“I am not certain my daughter will actually like the necklace.”

“There is no need to worry about that.”

The man had made such a clean deal that I could at least provide some after-sales service.

“Tell her that the necklace contains [Barrier] and explain how to activate it. Then tell her that as long as she wears it and respects her curfew, you will allow her to leave the estate more freely.”

The baron blinked.

“Allow her to leave?”

A rebellious daughter and an excessively protective father would inevitably clash over two things.

Going outside.

And coming home on time.

“Yes. By allowing her greater freedom, you show confidence and generosity as her father. In return, make wearing the necklace a condition of that freedom. That way, your concern for her safety appears reasonable rather than restrictive.”

I raised one finger.

“But there is one extremely important point.”

“What is it?”

“Never tell her the necklace can be tracked.”

“Why not?”

“If your daughter knows you can follow her location at all times, do you truly believe she will continue wearing it?”

“Ah...”

“And for the same reason, tell no one else about this compass. If rumors spread, they may eventually reach your daughter.”

Baron Delmont stared at me in open admiration.

“Remarkable.”

He looked down at the two artifacts again.

“Now I truly believe these were created specifically for someone like me. Surely many other people would pay handsomely for such devices, yet you chose to show them only to me.”

He was right that I could probably make considerable money by producing more tracking artifacts.

But I had little need for personal wealth. Human currency was almost useless inside the alliance.

More importantly, spreading this kind of device too widely risked exposing techniques from the Sigmund School. In the worst case, someone might eventually discover the communication relay stations I had installed or even uncover the principles behind my long-distance communication magic.

So I had simply invented a convincing excuse about protecting his daughter and preserving the secrecy of the artifact.

Apparently, the excuse had worked a little too well.

“If I ever require another artifact, I will contact you directly, Sir Karath.”

I simply smiled.

It was shortly after noon when shouting erupted inside the Gray Magic Tower.

“What is the meaning of this outrage?!”

The three men from the Foxy Merchant Company had returned to collect their debt.

“Outrage?”

The middle-aged debt collector barked back.

“You borrowed money! Pay it back!”

Tower Master Bongtreol and Hurf fell silent.

Neither had an answer.

“J-just give us a little more time.”

That was all Bongtreol could say.

Karath had left claiming he would return with enough money to solve the problem, but neither Bongtreol nor Hurf had the slightest idea what his plan involved.

As the argument between the Tower Master and the debt collectors grew increasingly heated...

Thud.

The tower door suddenly opened.

A group of men wearing clothes embroidered with Baron Delmont’s crest entered carrying a heavy chest.

Then Karath walked in behind them.

“I brought the money.”

Everyone turned.

“Five thousand gold.”

Karath gestured toward the chest.

“Count it if you want.”

“F-five thousand gold?!”

“You expect us to believe that?”

The debt collectors stared at him in disbelief.

“If you don’t believe me, open the damn chest.”

Karath’s tone made it clear he had no intention of arguing.

The men cautiously approached and lifted the lid.

Golden light spilled across their faces.

The chest was filled with gold coins.

“...”

This time, it was the three debt collectors who had nothing to say.

They exchanged uneasy glances before finally taking the chest and leaving.

Once they were gone, Bongtreol rushed toward Karath.

“Where in the world did you obtain five thousand gold?”

Karath gave him a pleasant smile.

“Trade secret.”

He had no intention of explaining.

He had not helped the Gray Magic Tower because he liked them.

He had helped because they possessed something he wanted.

“In any case, I kept my side of the agreement.”

Karath looked directly at the Tower Master.

“Now it is your turn.”

He gestured toward the upper floors.

“Show me the magical texts you promised.”

At last, it was time to search for the clue that could lead him to the next stage.