Loan sharks.

They were common enough in Genise, preying on desperate people in urgent need of cash, a plight not uncommon in the bustling city. Their scheme was laughably obvious but effective. They dangled a glimmer of hope before their victims in the form of instant cash, but with it came triple-digit interest rates, a debt trap that was impossible to dig oneself out of.

But when one is desperate, even a trap so obvious appears like a lending hand.

And the scheme didn't end there. Once reality set in and all hope was lost for their victim, they rolled out their second scheme.

They would offer guidance on climbing out of the financial hole that they themselves buried their victim in. They'd say they pulled some strings to get them exclusive high-paying work. But in reality, they'd ensnare their prey into servitude under the Red Lanterns, the Spiders, or one of the other syndicates that might need a human workhorse.

Loan sharks were the scum of scum.

However, one group stood out among loan sharks: Arcane Financial Solutions. I had once heard in my original life that they were an offshoot of the main branch in Lellei Kingdom, Arcane Financial Group, but I never gave it much further thought.

"You can invest with them if you wish, but never get a loan from them," Father had warned me in my first life. "No matter how bad business might get, never go to them. Once they have their teeth in you, they won't let go until they chew you down until there is nothing left."

Unlike other loan sharks, which typically let go of their prey after earning a healthy five-fold or even ten-fold increase compared to what they had loaned out, Arcane Financial Solutions did not. They'd bleed you dry, squeezing every last drop out of you, and when nothing was left, they'd find a way to extract the very marrow from your bones if it could produce an extra Duex coin. It was rumored that half the clientele of the loan sharks in East Genise were individuals desperately trying to claw their way out of debt to Arcane Financial Solutions.

And the muscle behind their extortion tactics was on a whole other level than the rest.

In contrast to the shadowy figures backing the traditional loan sharks of East Genise, Arcane Financial Solutions was backed by nobles, wealthy businesses, and the law. They didn't need to hire small-time gangsters to bang on anyone's front door. They'd have The Order come in and seize your home and everything in it with chilling efficiency. This aspect of my former profession served as a dark stain on my otherwise respectable work, shedding light on how deep the corruption went in Adovoria.

"They're a perpetual thorn in my side," Princess Evelyn lamented when I mentioned them. "Half the Noble Council is in their pocket. So, when they recently suffered a major setback from over-lending to people who couldn't have possibly paid back their debts, do you know who footed the bill?"

She heaved an exasperated sigh.

I sat across from Princess Evelyn in her circular office. However, instead of lounging by the fish pond with tea and cake, her eyes and hands were busy going through a pile of documents. After Micah's funeral, she had thrown herself entirely into her work—not that she had a whole lot of free time before his death. Her eyes were no longer reddened from grief, but they had a sunken look to them. Her entire face did.

I frowned.

Did she lose more weight?

Though always slender, her current state was bordering on alarming. My gaze drifted to an untouched sandwich on the cluttered table's edge.

My concern mirrored Duncan's as he picked up the plate, his expression darkening at the uneaten meal. Yet, he refrained from broaching the subject with the princess.

"The cost amounted to a quarter of our kingdom's annual tax revenue," he interjected instead. "But Arcane Financial Solutions and its investors didn't lose any money. The burden fell on each region's tax coffers, ultimately burdening our people. Meanwhile, the victims of their scheme were left out to dry."

"You helped pass that bill, you know." Princess Evelyn's eyes narrowed at Duncan.

He shrugged. "I was voting on behalf of my sister at the time, as instructed. Besides, even if I voted against it, one vote wouldn't have changed the outcome."

Princess Evelyn shook her head. "Who knows? I can only hope that was the last time," she muttered. "I'll be damned if I let them expand out in Adovoria as they had in Lellei Kingdom. Micah had promised to help curb them at the source, but now that he's gone…" She trailed off and gazed at me with a weary look.

I knew exactly what she meant. Arcane Financial Group was the reason half of Lellei Kingdom's population consisted of Leirvants, which was just a fancy term for lifelong indentured slaves who were too deep in debt ever to pay back their loans. Another forty percent were on the brink of financial ruin, relying heavily on loans from Arcane Financial Group to keep up their lifestyles and chained to their jobs, ironically often supplied by a sub-company of Arcane Financial Group.

Arcane Financial Group had such a massive grip on the nation because it was backed by the Lellei Kingdom's crown and its two wealthiest families. It had money, arms, and the law to back it up. One wrong move by someone disagreeing with the status quo, and down to a status of Leirvant, they went. Thus, a strange peace formed where people were too overworked and stressed to protest. However, dissent continued to brew slowly and now was ready to explode. Literally.

"That promise will still be fulfilled." I picked up my cup of tea and took a sip. I wasn't sure how much my brother had told Princess Evelyn about how he planned to curb their influence.

Besides, my method differs slightly from what he may have had in mind.

"Well, in any case, your monetary contribution on behalf of Lady Sedna Ozeryn to The Order has already alleviated one headache they caused," Princess Evelyn said, tapping a piece of paper with a prominent red stamp on her desk.

I raised a brow and looked at Duncan for an explanation.

"When the Noble Council passed the bill to cover Arcane Financial's Solution's losses, the money had come from somewhere," Duncan explained. "Certainly, a large chunk came in the form of net new taxes, but the rest was covered by cutting existing programs. The largest included disbanding certain units, reducing soldiers' pay, and scaling fortifications along our borders."

The corners of my mouth twitched.

"The Noble Council cut funding to The Order?" I bawked.

Princess Evelyn and Duncan nodded solemnly.

What kind of bullshit was this?

"What if war were to break out?" I asked. "How would we be able to protect ourselves? We'd be left completely vulnerable to external threats."

Duncan nodded, aware himself of the inevitable war and Adovoria's downfall that I told him about when we first met. "The Noble Council determined that the cost of maintaining a large military during peacetime was burdensome and that conflicts could be resolved through the efficacy of diplomacy."

I ran my hands through my hair.

So that's why The Order was in such a miserable state when I joined it, compared to the previous prestige I'd heard about.

I rubbed my right temple, feeling a headache form.

"The long-time peace across the continent has made Adovoria's nobles too comfortable." Princess Evelyn signed off on the last of the documents and stood up from her chair, stretching her arms and back. "What they failed to consider is that diplomacy only works if you can back up any breakage of agreements with repercussions."

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"Duncan, please take care of the rest," she directed to the piles of paper and motioned for me to follow her out of her office. "Luca, care to walk the grounds with me? I've been sitting in one place for far too long, and I've been told exercise is good for the mind."

I set my empty cup beside her untouched sandwich and followed her into the grand hallway while Duncan remained behind.

Princess Evelyn's heels tapped loudly across the large, empty hallway, with Julius following us.

"It's a bit of a shame about Grandov's passing—but I heard the strangest rumor recently making the rounds: that I had sent him off on a secret mission?" She looked at me expectantly. "I don't suppose you know anything of it?"

I frowned, blinking.

"No," I replied. "I do not."

I didn't remember seeing Grandov dying with the memory having been wiped clean, but I had heard plenty of accounts from those within the Frey Manor that I didn't have a doubt in my mind that he was indeed dead.

"Ah, is that so?" Princess Evelyn said, arching a brow. "Well, odder rumors have spread before."

"How's the new cook working out?" I asked, changing the topic to why I came to the palace in the first place.

Princess Evelyn chuckled involuntarily. "Arnold Bumblefudge, was it?"

I nodded.

"Terrible," Julius's voice sounded with a hollow.

The princess and I turned to Julius and laughed, seeing his expression, which looked similar to that of a soldier returning from battle.

"His food is inedible," he added.

I arched a brow.

I was used to Julius being a powerful but idiotic, ever-present, and loyal mage. I never knew what he was thinking and suspected it was nothing at all. However, his bemoaning of Arnold's food made me realize he had some rumblings in his otherwise empty head after all.

"That's about right, to be honest," Princess Evelyn admitted with a nonchalant shrug. "But when Arnold concocts a dish that hits the mark, it is on a whole other level. It's more rejuvenating than any tea or even a power nap. Ah! I don't believe I've eaten anything substantial yet, and I've been remiss in my duties as a host. You've been surviving on tea since your arrival. Arnold's shift should be starting soon."

She turned a sharp right and walked down a slightly more narrow hallway.

"So he is improving?" I asked, hurrying along.

Truthfully, I wasn't sure if I was correctly nurturing Arnold Bumblefudge's eventual healing cooking skills. I worried I might even stifle his raw talent by trying to rush his talent's progression.

In my first life, he once mentioned working in the palace kitchens and having a great mentor there. Thus, I hoped that getting him employed in the palace kitchens earlier in this Round would speed up the improvement of his skills, but the timing could have been all wrong. Too many factors have been influenced and changed. I didn't even know who his mentor was in my original life.

"Yes, to some extent," Princess Evelyn said. "He can now make three edible dishes."

"Well, edible as long as you don't know how he makes them," Julius grumbled behind us.

I perked up at this.

Three was an immense improvement compared to his one singular porridge.

"And thus, I do not wish to know his methods!" Princess Evelyn's voice rang out as she strode into the royal kitchen through the double doors.

I looked around and marveled at the royal kitchen, which made the Frey Manor's kitchen look downright quaint. The air buzzed with activity and was thick with the aroma of herbs, spices, and roasting meat. The sounds of utensils clinking and ingredients sizzling in pans filled the air, accompanied by the rhythmic chop of vegetables and the occasional burst of laughter from the kitchen staff.

Amidst the organized chaos stood the head chef, a thin man with an exaggeratedly large hooked nose. He was barking out orders and directing the kitchen like a battalion.

"Princess," he interjected, seeing us enter. He hurried over to her side. "You needn't come like this. A maid could have relayed your wishes."

"Him. I want his cooking." Princess Evelyn pointed her slender finger at Arnold Bumblefudge, who was huddled pitifully in one corner peeling potatoes.

"Oh, not like that—" The woman beside Arnold grabbed the peeler from his hands and demonstrated her technique. "See? You can't press so hard."

"Princess, please," the head chef implored, his gaze flickering towards me with thinly veiled accusation. He was undoubtedly well aware that I had recommended Arnold for this position. "You know better than anyone how terrible a cook he is. He stains the reputation of the royal kitchen. I cannot comply with your wishes."

Despite the objections, Princess Evelyn remained resolute. Her eyes focused directly on Arnold.

"Arnold Bumblefudge," she addressed him directly, her voice raised several notches to be heard over the busy kitchen staff. "Can you make me three bowls of rabbit stew?"

"Yes, princess! I will do so!" Arnold jolted up from his stool. In his excitement, he knocked over the bag of potatoes, which rolled in all directions. "I will prepare them right away!"

Arnold scrambled across the floor, gathering the yellow potatoes.

The head chef released a weary sigh. With a resigned gesture, he raised his hands and brought them together in a sharp clap, commanding the attention of the bustling kitchen.

"Everyone," he announced. "Arnold will be preparing his... stew in this corner."

The kitchen staff's reactions were as diverse as the ingredients lining the countertops. Some looked giddy with excitement, their eyes lighting up. Others, however, wore expressions of apprehension. Their faces paled, and they quickly moved their work to countertops as far away from Arnold as possible.

"I thought he was improving?" I asked.

The head chef's arms folded across his chest.

"He has, under my careful guidance," he retorted. "But progress takes time, and Arnold's journey to culinary mastery is still in its infancy. While he can now make four edible creations, somehow, anything else he attempts, even when following direct instructions and under a watchful eye, turns into something inedible. It's as if he's cursed with an invisible salt shaker, ready to sabotage every dish with a mere flick of his wrist."

"Four dishes?" I murmured in awe.

I was right to employ him in the palace kitchen. He was improving magnificently.

"Now, we'd better get out of the kitchen," Princess Evelyn said, walking out through another set of doors into a dining room overlooking the city. "Based on the accounts I've heard, it's best not to see how he creates his dishes."

***

"Three rabbit stews," Arnold said, presenting the three ceramic bowls before us himself.

"It smells delicious," Princess Evelyn said, inhaling the aroma and smiling. She wasted no time lifting her spoon and digging in.

"It's not actually rabbit…" Julius mumbled behind me. Looking at his facial expression, one might have thought Arnold presented stew made from roadkill.

If it was indeed roadkill, it was the most delectable roadkill I'd ever tasted. As I lifted the spoon to my lips, the first taste sent a wave of warmth coursing through my body. The meat was tender and succulent, while the broth was rich and flavorful. Notes of earthy mushrooms, fragrant thyme, and sweet carrots come through.

However, Arnold's rabbit stew was most impressive for its rejuvenating properties.

I had spent the better part of five hours today practicing illusion magic, holding my concentration, and sitting in one place. The day before, I had done so for another fifteen hours. It was an exhausting endeavor. Yet, as I downed the stew, it was as if the warmth of it washed over me and massaged out all the tension that had built up. I didn't need the System's notifications to tell me of the incredible healing properties.

Looking across the table at Princess Eveyln was proof enough. One bowl of rabbit stew didn't help her gain much-needed weight, but now her skin was glowing. She appeared to have returned from a relaxing spa retreat.

"Julius, can you call over a maid and bring this stew to my father like usual?" The rejuvenating properties were not lost upon Princess Evelyn, and she utilized them as I had hoped she would.

After confirming with the System, I knew the King was supposed to die in two days—would a few days of Arnold's cooking push back his demise? I didn't hold out any hope for his recovery, but I did hope that a few days could be saved.

However, she's not utilizing Arnold enough for herself.

"You ought to have his food sent to your quarters daily as well," I suggested.

"I suppose I should." Evelyn smiled.

"Speaking of which, Arnold, could you cook up a soup batch and send it to the Frey residence for dinner?" I turned to Evelyn to confirm approval. After all, I was requesting palace resources, even though I had brought him to her.

"Of course, he can." She turned to Arnold, smiling.

"Yes! Of course!" Arnold agreed, nodding his head furiously.

"Thank you," I told him. I hoped his soup could alleviate some of Elda's symptoms from the strange poison emitted from the Wobbly Pebble explosion, which eluded even Kathy to this day.

"And did you note down your recipes and technique as I requested?" I inquired of him.

"Yes! Yes, I have!" Arnold scrummaged through his pockets and pulled out a food-stained notebook.

I nodded in approval, flipping to the first page and seeing the methods and techniques described in minute detail as instructed.

"But…. Young master Luca…" Arnold fidgeted in place, which didn't suit his large build. "I did as you instructed, but I don't think you could replicate the methods even if you study my notes. Not just you, but anyone really…"

"That's fine," I replied. "I only care that you'd be able to understand them."

"What—I don't see why you'd want the notes then?" Arnold said.

Tsk.

I said too many unnecessary words.

"That's something for me to know and for you not to worry about," I replied simply, ending the discussion.

<< System, memorize, and add Arnold's development to my reminders for the next Round. >>

[ Added to reminders. ]

I scanned the text mainly for the System's memory rather than mine. Given the last couple of Rounds, I had accepted that I could die at a moment's notice, so saving progress and techniques frequently had become a prudent practice. While Arnold was certain to improve over the next ten months, I wanted to ensure that even if things went sideways, I had thoroughly recorded his progress thus far to teach the cooking skills gained in the next Round. Then ideally, rinse and repeat on the next Round and the Round after that... until he could gain mastery at a much earlier period than ever imaginable.

The same logic applied to others. For example, although I couldn't understand Elda's explosive designs, I was confident in my ability to scan them and note them down for a future round so she could start on a firmer footing.

With enough loops, perhaps Arnold could even cure my grandmother.

I smiled sadly.

I knew how incredibly difficult that would be. He'd have to ascend even the skill level he had showcased in my original life within just a few days of my loop restarting.

But one can hope. And more importantly, try.

I might have been lacking in many respects, but persistence was not one of them.