I Resign From the Coin Mercenary Knights

The Imperial City, the Codana Exchange.

Once an institution symbolizing the Empire’s prosperity, it had now degenerated into a punching bag reviled by all privileged classes.

A nightmarish ordeal that began immediately after the Humanoid Lord’s survival was revealed.

The exchange staff had effectively lived under constant threat to their lives.

One could argue the staff bore no fault from a rational perspective. They merely facilitated the mechanical execution of investor buy and sell orders.

While they did determine market prices by matching quantities and prices, the responsibility for declining valuations could hardly be pinned on them.

But reason held no sway in the Codana market.

You bastard! You just told me to re-enter lower bids, didn’t you? If I’d sold an hour later, I’d have an extra 8 million rir!

Please, my lord, calm yourself.

Why? Trying to milk some extra commissions before the market inevitably shuts down?

Did you just smirk while updating those prices? Do we look like beggars grinding here all day?

Oh, dear customer, how could I…? I did not smile at all.

You’re grinning again? Think this is funny? Huh? Is this funny to you?

Frenzied investors would scrutinize the staff’s every move, pouncing mercilessly if they perceived any pretext for confrontation.

One might argue unruly customers could simply be forcibly removed, but…

That was impossible.

Most exchange staff had prior experience at the Imperial Bank or merchant guilds. Some were quasi-nobles, others commoners.

In contrast, a large proportion of these abusive investors hailed from privileged classes.

No matter how distraught over their Codana losses, their power and status remained intact.

Some would even attempt intimidation, leveraging their privileges.

You work at the trading counter, right? One of the senior clerks?

Sir, for you to come to my home… How did you even find my address?

The moment the market reopens, process my orders first. I need to escape while I can.

I apologize, but orders must be handled in sequence…

Doesn’t your brother serve in the Imperial Guard? I’m the Deputy Commander of the 4th Regiment.

How could the exchange staff possibly maintain sound mental states under such intimidation?

Quitting this job would be understandable, but that was easier said than done. What institution would readily accept former exchange employees in this climate?

Yet today, a rare sense of warmth permeated the exchange atmosphere.

Fueled by rumors that a truth-finding inquiry into the Second Prince would commence later, trading volumes had seen a modest recovery.

Some investors were even prematurely savoring triumphant feelings, indulging their hopeful delusions.

“Did you hear? They’re saying the Second Prince will repurchase units and prop up prices as a form of political accountability.”

“Where did you hear that from? Is it true?”

“Those in the know are well aware~ Of course, the bulk of the blame lies with the hero, but the Second Prince’s off-market deal was no trivial negative catalyst either.”

“Oho, that sounds plausible!”

A noble spreading unsubstantiated fake news chuckled as he scratched the back of his head.

An utterly baseless rumor originally emanating from a viscount of a remote margraviate, yet some investors were nonetheless nodding along: “Well, it could happen…”

Not so much genuine belief as a desperate desire to believe anything at this point.

And that belief was truly reviving buy-side interest, allowing the staff to finally perform their intended roles instead of serving as punching bags.

“Placing a 1-unit buy order. Best to lower my average price at times like these.”

“Understood. Executed at 189 million rir.”

“That said, shall we switch to 1 million rir pricing increments? A sensible adjustment. Even 10 million rir wasn’t an insignificant sum – my heart would race with each fluctuation. Though 100,000 rir ticks were the norm just a year ago.”

“…Sir? Codanas haven’t even been traded for a full year yet.”

“No need to nitpick. It only underscores how eventful the Codana market has been. Hahaha.”

“…Hahaha.”

Staff and investors exchanging lighthearted banter – a far cry from the market’s peak valuations, yet their tension had eased, if only slightly.

Not because they had achieved enlightenment or gone mad, but rather, having tasted such profound despair, even this modest rebound brought immense relief.

Compared to the harrowing days spent surrounded by hundreds of financial casualties, utterly consumed by despair, this was virtual paradise.

The mere fact that Codanas still traded,

That optimistic chatter echoed in the exchange lounge,

That any prospect for improvement seemed plausible again –

It was enough for all market participants to regain hope.

Those who had cut losses by divesting would sigh wistfully upon witnessing such scenes.

“Tch. Did I sell too soon? Maybe I should re-enter…”

“Oh, have you lost your mind? Let’s just withdraw, dear.”

“Right. Let’s return to our territory. We can hardly afford to keep squandering money on expensive Imperial City lodgings when we don’t even maintain a residence here.”

“Let’s go. And never look back at Codanas again.”

As the resignedly divested investors departed, those remaining awaited the truth-finding inquiry, tempering their anxiety and hopes within the exchange or their workplaces and homes – an atmosphere where trepidation and expectation coexisted.

“What lovely weather.”

I strolled the Imperial City streets, flanked by trusted associates for a rare public outing.

One was Bingo, a former Imperial Knights administrative aide. The other, Amelia, the maid who cooked and cleaned at my residence.

Not out of some compulsive need for nobility to maintain retinues, but simply because extra hands were required.

“Bingo, you’ll be overseeing the 18th district soup kitchen operations for the foreseeable future. And if any dangerous situations arise, feel free to invoke my name for protection.”

“You mean I can claim to be your viscount’s vassal?”

“A vassal without a fief is nonsensical… Regardless, just keep the kitchen running smoothly. This title was granted under the pretext of humanitarian contributions, so I can’t simply abandon it.”

“Understood. But a soup kitchen…? Wasn’t it a martial arts academy?”

Ah yes, it had originally been an academy. But no longer.

“Let’s call it a soup kitchen for now. After being publicly thrashed before my students, I need to claim it was a devastating blow to my pride.”

“Was it really, though?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine. In fact, having been personally instructed by the Commander has reinvigorated my skills. I’m merely following his lead. Besides, I should fatten up the students before attempting to teach them anything.”

“……”

Bingo regarded me with a dazed look before nodding acquiescence.

Next, I assigned a task to Amelia, having decided to hire additional servants as well.

My residence was quite spacious – the former home of the Imperial City’s highest-earning lawyer, making it one of the largest in the third district. Not quite on par with the mansions of the Imperial family or high-ranking court nobles in the first district, but still too sizable for a single maid.

“Amelia, do you happen to know any friends skilled at cook…”

As I was issuing instructions, someone abruptly obstructed my path.

Another investor looking to confront me over Codanas, perhaps?

Even with my newly bestowed title, would they dare openly antagonize me? Then again, those who had lost their entire fortunes might struggle to perceive even a viscount as anything but an equal target for their ire.

“Pardon me. Are you Sir Eric the knight…? If I may be so presumptuous as to inquire…”

Her demeanor suggested no intent to pick a quarrel.

A woman, likely in her late thirties. Well-maintained and quite comely, though an undercurrent of hardship shone through, impervious to any cosmetic veiling. Her casual attire and bearing exuded a certain unmistakable aura, leading me to surmise…

‘A courtesan.’

Her claim of having an ‘inquiry’ piqued my interest enough to indulge her.

“Speak your mind.”

“…I am a Codana investor, you see. Just now, outside the exchange, I overheard some nobles claiming that once this truth-finding inquiry concludes, Codanas will surge significantly. I wondered if you, Sir Eric, shared that view?”

“I’ve already cashed out and withdrawn.”

“I realize that, but even so…”

She likely hoped I might possess some insider knowledge by virtue of having profited from the peak, given my Imperial Knights pedigree and connections to the hero.

Truth be told, I had a rough idea of the ‘truth’ the Second Prince was meant to reveal.

But I could hardly divulge that to just anyone. I had fortified my defenses at great effort – undoing that work myself would be senseless.

Yet brushing her off seemed unwarranted. After a moment’s deliberation, I chose to offer her an oblique path of escape instead.

Not out of pity, but simply because I no longer felt compelled to be overly harsh unless my interests were directly involved.

“What was your original entry price?”

“170 million rir for 1 unit.”

“An early investor, then. Take this chance to divest while assessing the situation. I can’t say whether prices will rise or fall after the inquiry, but you may not get another exit opportunity amidst the inevitable horde of sellers. Can you realistically withstand that onslaught?”

“……”

“You couldn’t even access the exchange floor during the crash, correct? And you likely lack the means for off-market transactions. So just divest. Even after commissions, you’d still net a tidy sum.”

“I…I suppose you’re right.”

“Off you go, then.”

I curtly dismissed her and turned away.

Glancing back, I saw the woman standing motionless, seemingly ruminating over my words. But before long, she hastened towards the exchange, albeit without running – likely due to her shorter stride compared to Bingo.

‘That woman will find a way to survive, one way or another.’

Enjoying the Imperial City’s revitalized energy after so long, I attended to various errands around the commercial district.

Purchasing medicinal elixirs, ordering cheese to supplement the bread distributed to 18th district refugees, and hiring an additional servant. I even waved to my former comrade Celine, who appeared haggard from the tribulations of Lancart.

Then, in the late afternoon – precisely after market close –

News arrived that the truth-finding inquiry into the Second Prince would soon commence, conveyed to me by the visibly agitated Professor Weaver, my neighbor.

At the insistent urging of the Codana whales like the Arknight ducal family and the cardinal overseeing the Imperial City diocese, the venue for this public inquisition had been decided – the palace chapel itself, to be attended by the Emperor, ministers, and Imperial nobles.

An effective public excoriation.

It was safe to interpret this as a political decision that had already been reached.