Became the Villainess’s Guardian

So, this was Mr. Edan’s fault to begin with.
Upon seeing Edan’s meager account, Freugne had reached that conclusion.

“Optimized day by day for dependency…!”

This paltry account meant Mr. Edan had brought this upon himself.
If she wished to avoid taking to the streets, it seemed she would have to take over the Edan Household’s finances sooner rather than later.

However, in this situation, while she felt an urge to dislike him, there was also an undeniable desire to care for him further – the true nature of these conflicting feelings was clear.

“It’s love, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, whatever you say……”

Erine could not completely shake off the sense that something was amiss, but for the sake of classroom peace, she chose not to point it out this time either.

While his account might have seemed meager, Edan’s overall financial state was actually quite sound.
His stake in the Keres Martop alone, which comprised more than half his assets, would allow him to weather this crisis to some extent.

“Didn’t you say you had amassed money for overseas investments?”

“But that plan was canceled over a year ago?”

“Then what about the money you made from selling all those magic tools…?”

“Since I had nowhere particular to spend it, it’s all safely in the vault?”

“…Oh.”

While the stockpiled inventory was a minor concern, to this degree, it would not be an overstatement to say he had prepared for weathering a recession.

Of course, as panics tend to do, it had initially struck everyone equally in its early stages.
And in that market where everyone had gone mad, Norton Investment, the sole entity maintaining its sanity, had steadily acquired stocks at their bottoms, becoming the rightful majority shareholder of the Keres Martop.

And Norton Investment was, in fact, an investment firm that Freugne could effectively treat as her own subsidiary through the proxy of Lord Norton himself.
Naturally, when it came to matters involving Edan, she had a separate plan.

“Request a meeting with Edan.”

“Understood. And is there anything else to be done?”

“Link his charitable foundation to resolve this economic crisis.”

“…..?”

Freugne intended to put Edan to work.

It seemed he too had been struggling to maintain peace in the household.
There had been a day when he had returned home drunk. As Freugne was about to nag him a little and prepare a hangover cure, she keenly felt his inner state.

“Phew… Dad’s home.”

“Just rest for a bit. It’ll be ready soon.”

Freugne, fully aware of the impending crisis yet unable to do anything, could not be at ease either.
She understood that a panic was ultimately a natural disaster of sorts that no individual, or even national entity, could resist.
Still.

“Our Freugne, Dad is sorry.”

“For what?”

“Just… I’ve been trying to do better, but it’s not really working out……”

“……….”

“But don’t worry. I’ll work hard again tomorrow. You just focus on attending school without any other concerns.”

Edan then gently patted her head.
An often overlooked fact, but he bore burdens heavier than anyone else.

From this single household to his charitable foundation – the number of mouths he fed was no small matter.
Freugne believed it was a family’s role to lighten that load, even if only slightly.

Even if the person in question remained unaware.

The root cause of the panic was difficult to pinpoint precisely.

Theories abounded – the kingdom’s production had surpassed consumption, disrupting the balance; the recession in the Belfast Republic; the money press halted due to inflation after being used for economic stimulus; or perhaps the market bubbles that had been inflating.

Various opinions and theories circulated, but no one could provide a clear explanation.
At best, one could cautiously suggest that numerous adverse factors had coincidentally converged and erupted simultaneously.

But the outcome was clear enough.
With performance decimated, the Martops and companies slashed payrolls first, leading to increased unemployment and diminished consumption, which in turn further eroded performance, creating a vicious cycle of ruin. And this domino effect had only just begun to topple.

[Parliament Proposes Relief Bill for the Poor! Can the Panic be Resolved?]

[Anonymous Finance Ministry Official Claims “Merely a Temporary Crisis”… Truthful or Not?]

[Endlessly Shrinking Defense Budget, Yet the Demonic Threat Persists. Is This Acceptable?]

Even a cursory glance at the newspapers revealed the divergence of opinions on whether this was the beginning of a prolonged recession.
From the perspective of Lord Norton, fully aware of the outcome, it was more lamentable than amusing.

However, up to this point, it was a conclusion that anyone with reasonable access to information could have reached.
If one had noticed the gradual pre-panic decline in consumption, the ineffectiveness of Parliament’s policies, and the accumulating magic tool inventory, they might have had an ominous premonition.

But ultimately, the most crucial factor was timing.

Why had those who had arrogantly proclaimed themselves the gods of shorting, aiming to capture the peak, all failed miserably and ended up converging at the bottom of the River Thames?
It was because, like the doomsayers heralding the imminent bursting of the bubble and the coming panic, they had simply misjudged that critical timing.

“It’s been about a week, so the results should have emerged by now. How did it turn out?”

“Given our operational scale, we inevitably incurred some losses, but it was perfect within the limits of our capabilities.”

But Freugne knew.
Having ridden this massive wave, Lord Norton had finally stood tall in Londinium’s financial world, where capital was wielded like a weapon by towering giants.

Even he had some sense of propriety, refraining from erecting a flashy new company building or indulging in tea-bagging.
For everyone who needed to know was already aware, rendering such troublesome and adversary-making acts unnecessary.

Gazing at the still bustling streets, shaken by the stock market crash, the lord asked:

“Will this panic last long?”

“This atmosphere will likely persist for about a year. Look over there.”

Freugne’s fingertip pointed towards the Londinium Stock Exchange.

After their phenomenal short sale, neither Lord Norton nor Freugne could set foot in the exchange.
Not because of any particular restriction, but simply because the crowds looking to sell off their remaining stocks were so dense that they risked being crushed amidst the chaos.

“We’ve secured all the necessary funds. Then, shall we proceed to the next stage as planned?”

“It’s already well underway. If this trend continues, we should be able to acquire a considerable portion of Londinium’s Martops and industries.”

“Just don’t make it too obvious.”

“Of course, I’m considering all possibilities. They’re all so distracted that they don’t seem to care what we do.”

Even at this very moment, Norton Investment’s employees were scouring Londinium with baskets, seeking factories and Martops worth acquiring at bargain prices.

Just in case any objections arose, they were also paying appropriate bribes to members and prominent figures.
Some newly elected members even winked and requested their continued support, causing the lord to occasionally shudder at the extent of the organization’s reach.

“In any case, congratulations. With this, you’ve joined the ranks of Londinium’s wealthiest.”

“…It was once a dream I so ardently desired, but having achieved it, I feel little exhilaration.”

“Is that so.”

“I can only say that I understand the source of my position and authority.”

It was a roundabout way of saying he would not become arrogant. Freugne nodded in acknowledgment.

The lord’s reputation had been on a roller coaster ride of late.
Once regarded as the promising head of an investment firm, he had been a white elephant to the Keres Martop’s investors until just before the panic, treated as a money pit in financial circles.

And as if compensated for that relentless persecution and contempt, he had now become this era’s living legend, inundated with innumerable requests for handshakes.

“Lord Norton, I always believed in you! I knew your insight would inevitably lead to such a grand achievement.”

“You are the hero of our Martop!”

“Greetings. We run a small company in the neighboring building, but might we trouble you for some economic advice, sir?”

[HelloLordNortonIlikedyoufromthemomentIfirstsawyouIwantedtoconfessbeforetheCrashbutIwasafoolwithnoCouragebackthenbutNow-]

Having reached an age where he even received love letters, a rare experience, the lord handled all such advances in a businesslike manner.
He was well acquainted with the fates of those who had become intoxicated by money and power, living recklessly.

Was it Philip? That poor friend whose mind had become unraveled.
When he discreetly inquired with a member during tea, he learned that Philip was now confined in a rural prison far from the capital, under strict surveillance.

Thus, Lord Norton willingly assumed his role in the gostopping game orchestrated by Edan and Freugne this time as well.

“Ah, it’s our old acquaintance.”

“Indeed. But may I ask what brings you here? Is it regarding Martop operations, perchance?”

“If so, I would have sent the letter to the Martop. It’s about something else – I’ve heard that Mr. Edan the mage runs a charitable foundation. Is this true?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I too have long been interested in the master’s charitable works. And having recently earned some money, I wish to put it towards a good cause.”

From this moment, Edan gained an inexhaustible flow of funds.
Money that would not be easily traced, and whose origins would not be questioned.

Whether he used these ‘donations’ to carve up steaks or drape himself in luxury brands, Lord Norton himself would be unable to interfere.

In need of quick cash? Then Edan could establish a ghost company, and the lord could make a sizable investment.
Later, if it went under, the money would emerge laundered and pristine. Was this not the epitome of consequence-free indulgence?

Of course, to evade government scrutiny, a slightly more complicated process would likely be required, but Parliament and the bureaucrats, in their half-dazed state, did not seem particularly sharp-eyed.

“Ah, thank you!”

Look at that seemingly genuine, delighted demeanor.
Had it not been himself, the lord might have been thoroughly deceived by such an act.

But that was precisely what made it so vile. To think his own adopted daughter would be used as an intermediary for such purposes.

Whether in a positive or negative sense, having become Londinium’s most popular figure, Lord Norton could not even fathom what Freugne might be scheming behind the scenes.