That Time an American was Reincarnated into Another World

Chapter 207: Fruitful

“Haah, what a day.”

Lady Luna plopped into her seat. She hadn’t done much other than sit around and converse with others, but the sheer excitement of the new experiences she had today was enough to drain her mentally. 

She closed her eyes, her white hair draping over her face as a pair of hands came from behind and started messaging her shoulders and neck. She let out a pleased sigh. 

“Heavens dear, I’ve not seen you this tired in months. Was your trip that exciting?”

“It was.” She lifted her hand, brushing the large fingers of the man behind her. She felt the ring on his left hand, twice the size of hers. 

Anderson chuckled, “I saw that thing fly overhead almost a dozen times. It’s quite amazing. I’m honestly surprised that all those boasts weren’t exaggerations.”

“They were not. If anything, John Cooper has yet to truly show us the potential of these planes and helicopters. I talked to him for a short time. He actually dared to say that the plane was slow. It was only after I asked some questions that he blurted out how he wants to make a plane that could go at least 3 times faster, saying that magic made it too easy to pull such a thing off.”

“How fast did the plane go?”

“They said he reached 500 miles an hour during his flyby, almost 10 times faster than a Steed.”

“Hm, I can’t fathom going 1500 miles an hour.”

“Neither can I. I also couldn’t imagine flying 15 thousand feet up in the sky. Yet I did. I wish you could’ve seen it, dear. It was inspiring.”

Luna’s eyes sparkled, the mana flowing through her body alongside her emotions as she recalled the flight. 

Anderson stepped around her chair, his large body entering her view as he sat on the edge of the desk. 

“So, what’s the plan now that we know he wasn’t exaggerating?”

“Get ready to fork out some money, and let’s hope he likes us enough to give us some planes first. Sawn is currently negotiating with the Kingdom in an attempt to draw up a new contract. The military wants those planes, and a lot of them, but he said he’s coming out with new designs soon that everyone will be interested in. Cargo planes, passenger planes, fighters, bombers, reconnaissance aircraft, and all kinds of similar variants for helicopters. It’ll not only take some time for them to build these, but they will also need to train pilots. To that end, we should prepare some summoners for pilot training. They will learn the fastest, even though John said that ordinary people are more than capable of learning and piloting aircraft.”

“The Lord knows we have gaggles of summoners to spare. Everyone fuckin’ does. They will be on standby. Now, what will we do about the man himself?”

Luna saw her husband’s eyes glimmer, smiling, “Are you that eager to get your hands on him?”

“His potential is being wasted in this heathen-laden ground, and yet he’s still surpassing expectations faster than I can conceive them. I want the value he would bring when backed by my Order.”

“I understand. But we can’t spook him. Let things play out as they may…” She paused, her smile disappearing, “Attach a squadron to him, though. Protect him. He’s good to nobody if he’s dead.”

“Done. The little lad may find out though. His Aura is tender, like a spanked slab of meat.”

“Hehe, I’m sure he’ll understand. He’s a smart boy. Also, there’s one more piece of unexpected news.”

Luna looked at her husband, his smile growing as if he already knew what she was going to say.

……

…

“He rejected the King’s offer to become a Viscount.”

Shadowbane announced to her father, Chief Ironheart of the Raven Family, Duke of the Whetted City. 

The large bristly man turned to her, as did two dozen others. They were all lining a massive table within their meeting hall, Ironheart at the head. 

Ironheart smiled, then laughed, his voice shaking the walls of the hall. 

……

…

“What do you mean, he rejected the King?”

“It’s exactly as I’ve said, grandmother. I don’t know how else you want me to say it.”

Talexia sighed, leaning her chin on her fist, propped up by the arm of her chair. She had a lot on her mind and didn’t care for the redundant inquiries of her ancestors. 

Her grandmother, Sanel Talerria, a 186 year old Authority 11 warlock, frowned at her before turning to the other ancestor. He was Talexia’s great-great-grandfather, her grandmother’s grandfather. Lucretius Talerria had as many wrinkles on his face as he had years to his experience, being over 250 years old. 

Ikhor was there was well, alongside a few other family branch heads, all of whom sat at Authority 10. 

Sanel scoffed.

“I just can’t understand. Why would a commoner boy like him turn down the offer, coming from the King himself, to become a noble? It defies all logic!”

“John has always been… unique. Besides, he’ll make plenty of money off of this invention even without becoming a noble. He’s still a part of Sawn Industries.”

“How much money will he make?”

“Well…”

Talexia thought, recalling her memorized conversations and eavesdropping. 

“Sawn is in negotiations with the Royal Family and Treasurers, but I heard some numbers from him. If they aren’t exaggerations, each plane will cost anywhere from 300 thousand to 3 million coin. There are many types, so let’s say the average per plane is 800 thousand coin. If they sell the random number of 1 thousand planes, and John gets a cut of, let’s say, 5% given the fact that we know nothing of their profit margins or his deal with Sawn, that’s…”

She spent a few seconds doing the math, but someone blurted out before her, the merchant branch family head. 

“40 million coin.”

“That’s at minimum, and likely within the first 6 months. His deal with Sawn may very well yield higher percentages. The man had been attempting to recruit John for over a year beforehand. And their profit margins, from what John told me about the efficiency of the planes, is likely astronomically high. They’ll absolutely sell more than a thousand planes, and they also have to train pilots, another source of income. This is all to say that John, personally, will likely make several times that, on top of his salary, and Sawn Industries will become an even larger behemoth than it already is.”

“And John will be right next to that behemoth’s head.” Lucretius muttered. 

Sanel shook her head, “If he were a noble he’d be able to sell far more.”

Talexia heard that and wanted to laugh. She felt faint derision for her grandmother’s shortsightedness. 

She couldn’t help her rebuke, “John being a noble or not will have nothing to do with how much he sells. He has Sawn Industries doing the work for him, and flight is not something that will go without demand even after a millennia. I’m already prepared to put in an order for a dozen cargo and passenger planes, and I’ll be speaking with our city planner about an air terminal soon. I’m sure every other Marquess and Duke and City Lord are doing the same thing, and they’ll all be vying to get their hands on a plane first.”

There was silence for a moment, everyone looking around and murmurs being passed. 

At some point, Sanel glanced at Talexia, “That boy, didn’t he fancy Umara? I remember him from Christmas a couple years ago.”

Talexia let out a breath. She had wanted to avoid that question. 

“Yes, he did.”

“Well, since he isn’t going to become a noble, it seems to me that the household which can pull him in will benefit particularly well. They’ll gain a wealthy, genius enchanter working for Sawn Industries with, from what you’ve told me, outstanding military merits. How is his character?”

Talexia smirked, “He turned down a noble title from the King. I think that sums up his character rather well.”

“Regardless of how reckless he is, as long as he’s not irredeemable I think it would be worth it to bring even a summoner into the family. We may have to lower our standards but I think the money he makes will compensate.”

Talexia narrowed her eyes at her grandmother, “Speak to him like that and I can guarantee you he’ll lose all interest in becoming a Talerria.”

Sanel rolled her eyes, “You think I’m stupid? Of course I wouldn’t speak to him as such.”

“I suggest you stop thinking as such as well. He’s a summoner and he’s got an Aura that can rival mine, maybe not in strength, but in technique and development, most certainly. He’ll know if you think of him derisively, and he doesn’t take kindly to contempt.”

“Yet he’ll swallow his pride because the Talerria family is greater than his simple commoner mind can comprehend,” Sanel snapped, “He should be so grateful that his name is even coming out of our mouths. You think he would turn down a marriage offer from one of the richest Dukedoms in the Kingdom?”

“He turned down a noble title from the King.” Talexia smiled a bit, “I don’t think you can fathom how much pride that boy has, and the fact that we’re holding this meeting about him and his invention means that he’s the one with the advantage here, not us. I understand that you don’t want to seem weak, but it’s obvious you won’t be able to approach him without scorn. That’s why you’ll leave handling him to me.”

Talexia lifted her chin a bit, looking down on everyone at the table, “It is my daughter who he has a fancy for and I’ll be the one to decide how we handle John. I will think about marriage between them after their situations in the military calm, and if the opportunity does present itself, I want no objections from any of you, as well as your support when other households inevitably attempt to suppress us for claiming a genius enchanter. Until then I will be handling the changes in our businesses in regard to implementing these new planes. Be prepared to open the coffers. We’ll be spending a lot of money very soon.”

……

…

The Auction House stood tall, at its height a single man. 

Few knew of him, fewer knew his name, yet all knew his moniker. 

“It’s a shame the Key Master made an impression before I even knew of him. Who could’ve thought? Perhaps it was the fault of the Church. Those prideful Catholics have their hands in everything.”

He sighed and downed the rest of the translucent wine in his glass, reaching out and setting it on a tray beside him, held by a distinguished butler with a sharp disposition. 

The butler walked the tray to another table with a bottle on it, “I believe you’ve made an impression among all, my lord. He’s attended more than one of your Galas.”

“He may know Vatsy but how much that affords is unknowable. Not even the King could bring out his obedience. He is rebellious, as evident by his conflicts during his time at the Magisterium.”

“Did you not say he has thrived in the military? Was he rebellious there?”

“No. He had no need to be. In that place, there is a clear enemy, and he truly is dedicated to the fight against them. That and his competence earned him great respect. This means he is compliant so long as he and his associates have similar goals. That, my friend, is how we will insert ourselves.”

“A flaw in his armor?”

“Nay, a doorway open to those who who are willing to meet the measure.”

“You are wise, Lord Vatsy.”

The butler bowed, raising his tray with a fresh glass of wine atop. Vatsy grabbed it, raised the glass to his lips and took a small sip, just enough to disperse the flavor over his tongue. 

He smacked his lips and smiled. His free hand brought up a file, the front page giving an overview of intelligence regarding John Cooper, including his compatriots, friends, lovers, enemies. 

He eyed one of the words, a list of aliases he has used. The American, as it pertained to the markets, was his most infamous name, only fading in the time he had been gone. Yet, occasional explosions that echoed off the dark walls of the Trenches or the ruins of Clockwork Association warehouses still kept the legend alive. Some said there were still some bodies throughout the Trenches, untouched lest someone bring forth the ire of the American once more. 

Vatsy eyed that name again and again, his foot tapping in anxiousness. Video footage of the most legendary Magisterium Championship in its history flickered through his mind. The weapons, the tech, even the way John acted. 

He knew it had to be true, knew that there was one other just in the Founder's Market alone, a certain mask maker that had recently left for the Holy See. He knew of three others. He had given them monetary assistance in exchange for their labors and loyalty, and they had latched on to his fat wallet.

Their common origins seemed to bring them together with even greater strength than familial ties. Only one of the three he helped had disappeared, but the other two still remained, continuing to work with him. 

He hadn’t gotten to this one fast enough but now, there was an opportunity. 

“The American… I didn’t think one of you corn-fed freaks would be sent here but that’s just my luck. At least someone was smart enough to bring some modern tech to these primitives. Now, we’ll be able to properly work together.”

Vatsy closed his eyes and raised his glass, the butler standing beside his chair silently. 

“To a fruitful partnership.”