Damn, I recarneted As A Judge in Fantasy World

The current situation should have been handled that way originally. Projects carried out by the company are owned by the company.

Vargas is under my employ. But I didn't have the heart to be

Vargas must be so useful.

Who knows what might come next? What if another universal dye like the one we just made appears?

'i have to think of it as an investment for the future.' I quickly found a suitable compromise.

This guy will keep helping you if you make a mutually satisfactory offer.

"Let's build a manufacturing plant."

"Isn't this something you can make by yourself?"

"No, let's just do it like that in name only. As the factory's reputation grows, it will also help build a brand."

"Aha!"

"Then it would be easy to divide the shares. How about 6 to 4?"

"Then I..."

"6."

Vargas just stood there, blinking. It seemed like it took him some time to understand the situation. After a while, the guy slowly shook his head.

"No. I don't know much about how the world works anyway. I just know how to make potions."

It was a typical foolish thing to say.

'I don't know, so he figure it out?

' It was no different from saying that it was okay to just take everything away.

'He would be good prey for greedy and evil guys.'

But for me, Vargas was the goose that laid the golden eggs. Why on earth would I do something as stupid as cutting open the goose? I nodded readily and said,

"Okay. Then I'll take 51% of the shares. I'll take care of everything else, so you just focus on experiments and production."

"Are you really going to do that?"

"You're the type of guy who's easy to scam. What are you going to do if I have bad intentions?"

"Well then, I guess I should just blow it all up. That's my specialty."

"Wow! That's a bit scary."

"Hehehe!"

Vargas and I shook hands and laughed heartily.

* * *

A versatile dye that appears at just the right moment.

This was a substance that was no different from a fraud. You could dye a large roll of fabric with just 2 goldens.

The cost of producing fabric would be much lower. When cheap and good products are supplied in abundance, it's bound to create a big ripple in the market.

'But it's okay. This is a town where productivity is at a near-destructive level.'

Moreover, all the wealth was concentrated in the upper class. This is a world where it wouldn't be strange if the winds of communism were to blow.

But the existence of a knight with immense power maintains the status quo. Revolution also has to be dealt with to some extent.

Each and every one of them is worth a hundred, a thousand. But will this continue to be the case in the future? What if hundreds of thousands of people rush in?

'If I stabilize society, people won't even think about revolution. Just stop people from gathering.'

It's a good place to live, so why would anyone do something like that? Then the Empire of Enfer will last much longer. But why on earth is it like this?

'I'm one of the upper class of the empire. If something like a revolution were to happen, how difficult would it be?' In that sense, they do all kinds of business.

But what the heck is this?

"Your Highness the Duke of Carriers, please stop the excessive popularity craze!"

"This will bring great chaos to the order of the empire!"

Old men with white hair were shouting loudly.

For a moment, this thought occurred to me: 'Where am I? Who am I?'

I was hearing some really serious nonsense. It's true that I was a bit dizzy, but I didn't lose my mind at all. I just stayed silent because it was so absurd.

But why on earth was I forced into such a crazy situation?

'I came with a light heart because they asked me to come to the National Assembly after a long time...'

The old nobles were talking like that.

Everyone has a desire for fame. I couldn't say anything just because it was popular. But my identity was the problem.

"I'm afraid something unpleasant might come out. Zu ..."

So it seemed like I really did something wrong.

'It must be treason.'

A royal family more popular than the emperor of the empire? And on top of that, that guy is a duke with the right to the throne?

I think you'll get the answer just by watching a few historical dramas.

From the emperor's perspective, he would want to find fault with something and destroy it.

'But that's possible even if it's not particularly popular.'

What was the imperial law like? If you hang it on your nose, it's a nose ring. If you hang it on your ear, it's an earring.

If the Emperor had wanted to, there would have been no one left alive in this place.

Because the best of the empire, the Grand Masters, would come rushing in and cut them all down.

Anyway, their argument was this:

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Please reduce the amount of cloth. Some people may like it, but those who make a living by weaving will lose their way of making a living."

"What, if I do that, will my popularity decrease?"

"Probably so. Also, please refrain from making judgments that are too biased towards the common people."

It seemed like he was planning to say everything he wanted to say at this opportunity. I let out a hollow laugh and wiggled my chin. It meant to tell me to try more.

"Huh? And what else?"

"I would like to ask that the wages of the Dukedom of Carriers and Midias be lowered. There are voices of discontent here and there because so many talented people are flocking there."

It really became more and more spectacular. Need talent? Then, it would have been enough to treat them accordingly.

Anyway, there is a limit to the number of people I can hire. If the pay is decent, I'll probably get a job near my house. Why would they bother coming all the way to Midias?

'I can refute each and every one of them.'

First of all, the basic way to make cloth was to spin the thread on a spinning wheel at home and weave it on a loom. But those were all just side jobs.

Besides, how many people actually live off of fabric? What was even more absurd was that I had already hired a large number of such people.

'In the end, no one was harmed.'

The second demand was for a biased verdict. No, why are he's telling me that i committed a sin? This wasn't even worth refuting. In the end, it's like they're telling me to take their side, no matter what the truth is.

The last one was to lower wages.

'People want to use talent, but don't want to pay a lot of money?'

The reason I treat my workers well is simple. Is it because I feel sorry for the people living in poverty?

No, it's because I want to live this good duke's life for a long time.

When the red wave of communism comes,

your heads will be hung in the streets. No matter how strong the knight is, he can't withstand a barrage of weapons.

'What a bunch of ungrateful people.'

There would be no point in talking to such closed-minded people for a hundred days.

So how do I end this ridiculous situation? Do I have anything to think about? It's simple.

"I guess it doesn't really matter to me whether I am popular."

"Why does it happen like that?"

"How can I stop people from liking me? Should I just make a fool of myself?"

"Ahem! That's not it."

"In the end, this is what matters. Whether or not I harbor treachery. Whether or not His Majesty the Emperor doubts me."

"…!"

The eyes of the Imperial Council members opened simultaneously.

I didn't expect them to react like that, but I went a step further with an indifferent expression.

"What are you going to do? Let's go ask His Majesty the Emperor. Is it likely that I will commit treason?"

A considerable amount of time passed, but no member of parliament opened his mouth.

I guess they were probably scared. It's a bit odd to ask the Iron-Blooded Emperor such a question.

"I thought you were prepared for something like this since you were talking about something so unpredictable."

I stood up from my seat and continued speaking with a snicker.

"Be honest. Does it bother you that I and the people are making a lot of money?"

There was an uncomfortable atmosphere in the room.

Did I hit the nail on the head? So what? Just like those people, I too have something to say.

Now, it was time to strike one last blow.

"Everyone, work hard. Don't just think about how to eat."

***

Able glanced at the uneasy faces of the nobles, their expressions a mix of frustration and hesitation. He couldn't help but smirk inwardly. Their greed, their fear—they were so transparent. He had stirred the pot, and now he could watch them scramble to regain their footing.

'They can't refute it, can they? Because, deep down, they know I'm right.'

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms casually, his gaze sweeping across the assembly. The silence dragged on, each noble seemingly waiting for someone else to make the first move. Able had already won this round. The tension in the room was palpable, but no one dared to challenge him openly.

One of the older council members, his face pale with a mixture of concern and weariness, finally broke the silence. "Your Highness," he began, his voice thin and wavering, "no one here questions your loyalty to the empire. It is simply that... we are concerned about the implications of your influence on the lower classes."

Able raised an eyebrow, feigning interest. "Oh? Do continue. What exactly do you fear? That the common people will rise up because they're no longer starving? Or that they'll start thinking for themselves?"

The man swallowed hard, his hands trembling slightly. "No, Your Highness, we only wish to maintain order. Rapid changes often lead to instability."

"Instability," Able repeated, his voice soft but laced with sarcasm. "You mean, you're afraid that if the people have too much power, you'll lose yours."

The room seemed to freeze at his words. The truth had been spoken, and there was no way to take it back. For a moment, Able thought one of them might try to argue, to throw out some flimsy excuse, but no one did. They couldn't. Their fears were too obvious.

"Order is important," Able continued, his tone shifting to something more authoritative. "But you can't maintain order by keeping people oppressed. The empire won't survive like that—not in the long run. The world is changing, and we must change with it. Otherwise, we'll be swept away."

His words hung in the air, and for a brief moment, he almost felt a pang of sympathy for them. Almost. They were relics of an era that was quickly fading, clinging desperately to a system that no longer worked. But Able? He was a part of the future—a future they feared.

"Now, if there's nothing else," Able said, rising to his feet. "I believe we're done here."

The nobles exchanged uneasy glances, clearly reluctant to let him leave on his own terms. But what choice did they have? None of them had the courage—or the power—to stand against him. Not here. Not now.

Able gave a slight nod of acknowledgment, then turned and strode out of the room without another word. As the heavy doors closed behind him, he allowed himself a small smile.

'They'll come around. They always do.'