Night settled quietly over Damon’s dormitory, the faint glow of the academy lights filtering through the window as the distant hum of the campus faded into a calm stillness, leaving the room wrapped in a composed, almost deliberate silence. Damon stood near his desk, exhaling slowly as if aligning his thoughts one final time before stepping forward, his fingers brushing across the surface of his manacron.

"It’s time..." he muttered under his breath.

With a few precise inputs, the device activated, and within seconds, a holographic figure materialized before him, its light stabilizing into the form of a middle-aged man whose presence carried both authority and familiarity.

Damon straightened slightly.

"Good evening... Count Halewind," he greeted, his tone respectful yet measured.

The man on the other side broke into a hearty laugh almost immediately, his voice rich and unrestrained.

"Hahahahaha... drop the formalities, son," he said, clearly amused, "your relationship with Mira is all but confirmed already. Just the other day, I was speaking with Duke Valecrest about formalizing the engagement—hahahahaha!"

His laughter echoed again, full and confident, filling the room as though the matter had already been decided beyond question.

Damon allowed the moment to pass without interruption, waiting patiently until the laughter subsided before responding, a faint, polite smile resting on his face.

"It would be my honor to have Lady Mira as my fiancée," he said calmly, his tone composed, "but I reached out today for a different reason, and I would prefer if we could keep that separate from this matter."

The shift was immediate.

Count Halewind’s expression changed.

The warmth of his laughter faded into something sharper, more attentive as his gaze settled fully onto Damon, reassessing him with a renewed sense of interest.

"Is that so?" he said, his voice lowering slightly, curiosity now replacing amusement. "Then what exactly might that reason be?"

Damon’s smile remained, though it carried a different weight now, one that hinted at intent rather than courtesy.

"I have a business proposal for you... Count Halewind," he said steadily.

The Count’s brows furrowed at that, the words clearly unexpected as he leaned forward just slightly within the projection.

"A... business proposal?" he repeated, his tone edged with intrigue.

Damon gave a small nod.

"And I am looking for an investor for this venture," he continued, his voice calm yet deliberate, "and I believe there is no better option than you."

A new expression formed on Count Halewind’s face, one that blended curiosity with cautious interest as he studied Damon more closely.

"Just how large of an investment are you seeking," he asked slowly, "that even a duchy cannot provide?"

Damon did not answer immediately, allowing the weight of the Count’s question to settle before he spoke, his tone calm but deliberate as he began laying the foundation of his intent.

"The scale of investment is not the issue," he said, his gaze steady, "it is the source... I do not want any involvement from the duchy in this matter."

For a brief moment, Count Halewind simply stared at him, the statement clearly unexpected as his brows drew together, his expression sharpening with interest.

"You refuse backing from one of the most powerful duchies," he said slowly, his voice carrying both curiosity and faint disbelief, "and yet you come to me instead... that alone makes this worth hearing."

Damon inclined his head slightly, acknowledging the reaction without elaborating further.

"What I am proposing," he continued, "is entry into a completely untapped market... one that exists in practice, but not in structure."

The Count leaned back slightly, his attention now fully engaged.

"Go on."

Damon’s expression did not change, though there was a quiet precision in his words now.

"There is a demand for private, intimate solutions, tools, that currently has no safe or standardized supply," he said, choosing his phrasing carefully, "and as a result, people resort to makeshift alternatives... household items, crude objects, even food products."

The Count’s brows furrowed more deeply, a faint discomfort crossing his face.

"That sounds less like a market and more like a problem," he remarked.

"It is both," Damon replied without hesitation, "and that is exactly why it is an opportunity."

The words lingered.

Damon stepped forward slightly, his tone gaining a subtle edge of conviction.

"The absence of proper products does not eliminate demand... it only pushes it into unsafe territory," he continued, "and where there is consistent behavior without structured supply, there is always a market waiting to be formed."

The Count’s expression shifted, the earlier dismissal fading into something more thoughtful as he listened.

"Safety," Damon went on, "is the key differentiator... materials that are non-reactive, durable, designed specifically for the purpose, eliminating risk while ensuring discretion and quality."

He paused briefly, allowing the idea to settle before continuing.

"If introduced correctly, with the right positioning and controlled distribution, this does not remain a fringe product... it becomes a necessity." 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Count Halewind’s fingers tapped lightly against the armrest as he processed the argument, his gaze narrowing slightly.

"You’re suggesting formalizing something people already engage in privately... and turning it into an industry," he said.

"Exactly," Damon replied.

The Count leaned forward now, the earlier skepticism replaced by active interest.

"And how do you intend to navigate the social resistance?" he asked, his tone sharper, more analytical.

"Discretion," Damon answered immediately, "controlled branding, selective targeting, and gradual normalization... not through exposure, but through reliability and trust. Although there will be a lot of resistance, if marketed properly , people will gradually accept it."

"And what have you found out that can increase safety? And particular objects or materials?" the Count pressed.

"I have already identified viable options," Damon said calmly, "flexible, non-absorbent, structurally stable materials that can be adapted into safe, repeatable designs."

"And demand certainty?"

"It already exists," Damon replied, his tone unwavering, "it simply lacks a formal channel."

Silence followed.

Not dismissive but evaluative.

Count Halewind leaned back again, a slow smile forming on his face as the idea settled fully in his mind.

"...Interesting," he murmured, almost to himself, "very interesting..."

His gaze returned to Damon, sharper now, engaged in a way it hadn’t been before.

"What exactly do you need from me?" he asked.

Damon smiled faintly, as though he had been waiting for that question.

"I do not just need capital," he said, his tone steady, "but infrastructure... manufacturing capabilities, controlled supply chains, and distribution networks that can operate with discretion. And who better than someone who controls more than half of the empire’s market."

He continued without pause.

"The branding, product design, and market positioning... I will handle it personally."

The Count’s smile widened slightly, a quiet appreciation forming in his expression.

"I am certainly interested," he said, his voice carrying genuine intrigue now, "interested enough to wonder why I didn’t think of this myself."

He paused briefly.

Then added—

"But I do have a few questions... answer them, and you will have what you want."

Damon held his composure as the Count’s final words lingered, yet beneath that calm exterior, a quiet sense of certainty settled into his thoughts.

...and I have it.

One of his most pressing concerns—resolved.

A faint smile formed on his lips as he leaned back slightly, his tone steady and unhurried.

"Ask away."

Count Halewind returned the smile, though his eyes remained sharp, measuring.

"Then let me begin with something simple," he said, his voice calm but probing, "why do you not want any support from your father? It is not as though a duchy cannot provide everything you are asking for."

Damon met his gaze without hesitation, holding it for a brief moment before answering.

"I do not want to be dependent on the duchy," he said evenly, "I want to build something of my own... something that does not carry its name or its shadow."

The words were simple but firm.

Count Halewind narrowed his eyes slightly, studying him more closely now, though he chose not to pursue that line further as he shifted to his next question.

"Then tell me this," he continued, his tone carrying a hint of amusement this time, "were you not embarrassed discussing such matters with your soon-to-be father-in-law?"

Damon’s smile did not falter as he thought

He didn’t pry into the reason...

"As I said," he replied calmly, "I would prefer to keep those two matters separate."

He paused briefly.

Then continued, his tone turning more precise.

"For your investment, I am prepared to offer a twenty percent stake in the business, along with a two percent royalty on every product sold," he said, his gaze steady, "the remaining ownership stays with me... this will be my company."

A faint shift passed through the Count’s expression.

Damon did not stop.

"As for embarrassment," he added, his voice carrying a quiet edge, "I do not believe Count Halewind built his business empire by being governed by shame."

For a moment—

Silence.

Then—

Count Halewind laughed.

"Hahahahhahhahahah..hahahha!"

Loud.

Unrestrained.

"Hahahahaha... indeed," he said, clearly amused, "for a moment, I almost wondered if you were my son."

The laughter echoed briefly before fading, his expression settling into something more serious, more grounded as he leaned forward slightly.

"But let me tell you one thing, son," he said, his tone firm now, carrying weight beyond business, "there is a difference between having no shame... and having no bottom line."

His gaze sharpened.

"Even a businessman is still a man... and a man without a bottom line... is no man at all."

Damon listened without interruption, his expression unchanged, though a quiet acknowledgment formed within him.

...well said.

"I understand, Count Halewind," he replied, his tone respectful, yet steady.

The Count’s expression softened slightly as he leaned back again, the tension easing just a fraction.

"Good," he said, a small smile returning, "then send me what you need... I have other matters to attend to."

Damon gave a small nod.

"Thank you for your time."

The holographic figure flickered and disappeared as silence returned to the room.

Damon exhaled slowly, leaning back into his chair as the weight of the conversation settled, a faint smirk touching his lips as he muttered under his breath—

"...I’ve still got it."

Then, without shifting his gaze—

"You can come out now."