Dimensional Descent

Leonel's smile didn't fade amidst the silence of the father-son pair. In fact, it only grew. It was clear that this silence meant something far different than it would have at the start of all of this.

"I see." Grand Prime Minister Dove suddenly spoke.

His voice was deep and rumbling, a marked difference from his son's more light tone. It seemed that Leonel had finally found a second difference between them.

"Then what exactly do you propose, Your Highness?"

Leonel waved his hand. "You don't need to call me that, just call me Leonel. Not like it matters much anyway, not like you two went out of your way to kneel when I entered."

Tyrron's lip twitched. Members of the Grand Prime Minister family didn't have to kneel to Princes. This was something that Leonel would have known had he not been raised outside the Imperial Family. But, it didn't seem appropriate to correct him on this now since he had already waved it away so casually.

"As for what I propose it is quite simple. For the next year, all profit White City makes will go to me. Beyond this, all shops that I come to own will be tax free and work without restrictions.

"While I am away, this city will continue to be yours. Quite frankly, I planned to take White City and move it to the coast, but it is clear that this is impossible. So, instead, I'll be building a city myself."

Grand Prime Minister Dove's gaze flashed, but he remained silent as he continued to listen.

"In exchange for this, any Force Crafters you are nurturing can come under my wing for the time being if you aren't afraid of me poaching them away. In addition, any boom in White City's economy that are as a result of my actions can continue to be yours once I've gone and the year period I've marked out has passed. As for when I am in the city, I will take 30% of the revenue following this year period."

Hearing Leonel conclude so simple, Grand Prime Minister Dove was quite shocked. He had expected to be completely fleeced by this Prince but Leonel had actually gone so easy on them?

Though losing a year of revenue was a difficult pill to swallow, a year was ultimately just that. Before the Metamorphosis, the human life time had more than doubled already, making a year worth far less than it had been in the past. Now with the help of the Metamorphosis, Force, and the various rare Force Herbs Earth was continuously producing, they could live for even longer than that.

In addition to this, Leonel said that after this year, he would only take 30% of the revenue for when he was actively in White City. He had already left for three years prior to today without a word, and though the Grand Prime Minister couldn't guarantee that Leonel wouldn't do this again, the fact that he wanted to build his own city was evidence enough.

Without much thought, Grand Prime Minister Dove nodded.

"I find this deal to be agreeable. From this date until this time next year, all the revenue of the city will be yours. If you need Crafter to help in your building a city, I will also provide them. If they are to your lacking, there is no problem with Prince poaching a few.

"As for your shops being tax free, this is of course not a problem as well. I'm sure that the added business your endeavors will bring will leave us at a net positive regardless. There are easily half a dozen prime storefronts Prince can choose from. If you would like, you can have them all."

Leonel smiled. It seemed that this Grand Prime Minister was quite the smart man.

"Oh right, just one more thing," Leonel said, "When I say revenue, I mean all of it. Don't bother sending taxes to that old man for this year either."

Grand Prime Minister Dove was rendered speechless. Firstly, Leonel was calling Emperor Fawkes 'old man'. And, secondly, evading Imperial Taxes was not just a small crime. Even shaving a bit off the top was impossible, but not doing so for a whole year was a completely different level of face slapping.

"Don't worry about it, I've already spoken to him about it." ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴡᴇʙ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ

"… Really?" Grand Prime Minister Dove looked toward Leonel skeptically.

It wouldn't' be an exaggeration to say that White City represented at least 20% of Earth's current wealth. Losing it for a year was not a small ask at all. The only reason Grand Prime Minister Dove wasn't bleeding was because most of that money went to the Imperial Family anyway, so what he was left with wasn't something he was unwilling to part with.

The only thing he really needed to worry about was making sure all the guards and especially the Terrain servants were properly taken care of and paid. But, he was still willing to pay out of pocket to cover this for a year.

Leonel, however, was clearly a maniac. Grand Prime Minister Dove couldn't' even fathom what Leonel would do with this money.

Just to put things into perspective, the eye popping number of Urbe Ores Leonel had given to Elthor was something White City would make within three days. As exaggerated as that might sound, this was the true value of a world like Earth. The Ascension Empire was raking in funds hand over fist.

Without more explanation, Leonel smiled and stood.

"By the way, Tyrron, I wanted to apologize."

Tyrron, who had still been trying to wrap his mind around all this, suddenly started. He was surprised to the point of being speechless.

"When we first met I was a bit overly sensitive and ended up shattering your glasses. It was rash of me and something I shouldn't have done. I hope we can move past it. In exchange, how about I Craft you a Bronze treasure to your specifications?"

"Ah…"

Tyrron, who was almost always composed, didn't know what to do. He had never expected an apology for that and he had most definitely never expected Leonel to be so nice to him. But, most shockingly of all… Leonel was a Bronze Crafter?!

"Tyrron, quickly thank His Highness."

"Ah, yes… Right, right." Tyrron shot up from his seat and accepted Leonel's handshake.

He looked deeply into Leonel's eyes, trying to find some sort of contempt or sneer, but all he saw was warmth that made him feel almost too comfortable. The grievances he had held toward Leonel suddenly vanished into the wind and he blushed beside himself.

...

Leonel left the corner office with a smile on his face. He realized just how correct Anya had been. If he had had a warmer relationship with Tyrron from the very beginning, instead of lashing out at him for just looking at Aina back then, maybe this matter would have gone even smoother. If he wanted to succeed, he had to lead with a smile. There would always be time for him to use his fists later if the situation suited it.

"Young Miss! Please don't!"

As Leonel was about to leave the Estate, he suddenly heard a familiar voice. When he looked back, he saw the butler chasing after a young lady that seemed to be in her very late teens, likely 18 or 19 years old. Despite her age, Leonel's first impression of her was that she was quite cute, in a cuddly sort of way.

However, that fiery look in her eye as she stamped toward him was definitely anything but cuddly.