Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 35: The Fifty-Cent Soldier Who Brings His Own Rations
“Conchita Bowden? He’s an anomaly within the Blue Moon Forest High Druid Order, as well as a scholar with an insatiable curiosity for lost civilizations and alien realms.”
As she signed the checks, Ivna answered Marlon’s question effortlessly, her pen moving with calm precision across the paper.
Just moments ago, Marlon had successfully slipped away from the crowd that had gathered outside and made his way into the Emerald Crest Publishing House. Once safely inside, he recounted to Ivna the strange events that had unfolded on the empty lot next to the publisher’s building.
“So, in other words, this Claw Druid—he’s a plant you, President Ivna, hired to stir things up?”
Marlon’s question slipped out naturally, almost as if it were inevitable.
“A plant I hired?” Ivna glanced up at him, but it wasn’t the novelty of the term “plant” that caught her attention. A few days ago, Marlon had already explained the “Triple Win Plan” and clarified the meaning of such arrangements. Now, her curiosity was purely about why Marlon would frame the question in that way.
“I couldn’t possibly hire him,” she said lightly, her eyes calm yet amused. “This High Druid commands wealth in the millions of Lants; there’s no way he’d play the role of… a mere plant.”
With a few swift strokes, Ivna completed the checks and pushed them toward Marlon.
“Oh, I get it now. So he’s a self-sufficient ‘five-cent soldier,’ huh?”
Marlon nodded, finally understanding the precise role that this formidable Druid would play in the unfolding Triple Win Plan.
“Self-sufficient five-cent soldier? What does that mean?” Ivna asked, frowning slightly, though she didn’t expect an answer. She merely lifted her hand, extending the completed checks toward Marlon Lister.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s just another one of your rural slang phrases. Go on—I suspect our master financier, Mr. Sols, can hardly wait to make his grand entrance.”
“Understood.”
Marlon accepted the checks. There were two in total: one for 110,000 Lants, the other for 76,300 Lants.
As he turned and left the office, Ivna’s gaze fell back onto the thick stack of bound original manuscripts of The Count of Monte Cristo that lay on her desk.
Gently flipping through the pages, she let her eyes linger on the elegant, immersive prose. Time slipped by unnoticed, until finally, she breathed a quiet sigh of admiration.
“No matter how many times I read it, it’s always mesmerizing. How did that child come up with such brilliance?”
A soft knock interrupted her reverie.
Moments later, a man with a shock of white hair—Arandor—entered, cradling a small stack of thin papers that still carried the scent of fresh ink.
“Miss, the sample leaflets you requested… I’ve finished them all!”
He hurried over to Ivna’s desk and placed the ink-scented sheets beside the Monte Cristo manuscript.
“Thank you, Uncle Arandor,” Ivna smiled warmly.
“No need for thanks. This is my duty!”
Receiving her gratitude, Arandor’s face broke into a wide grin, though he quickly pointed at the leaflets, urging, “Miss, have you checked them carefully? If all is well, I’ll head downstairs to supervise the printers for mass production immediately!”
Arandor tapped one of the small, palm-sized leaflets. The top line read clearly:
“Emerald Crest Publishing Presents—Selected Excerpts from The Little Prince.”
Beneath it, the other leaflets carried similar titles:
“Emerald Crest Publishing Presents—Selected Excerpts from Cinderella”
“Emerald Crest Publishing Presents—Selected Excerpts from Pinocchio”
…
“Emerald Crest Publishing Presents—Selected Excerpts from The Count of Monte Cristo”
“Emerald Crest Publishing Presents—Selected Excerpts from The Royal Emblem”
In truth, these “selected excerpts” had been prepared long ago by Marlon, left at Emerald Crest Publishing on the same day Ivna had dragged him to meet with Sols for a potential collaboration. Everything had been meticulously planned.
These leaflets were a critical piece of Marlon’s Triple Win Plan, designed to make Emerald Crest Publishing a winner as well.
By tomorrow morning, these leaflets would blanket every street and alley in White Sand City, slipping into every mailbox and wedged into every door crack.
In this world without television or the internet, where commercial advertising could not reach the masses, such relentless, all-encompassing leaflet campaigns were the only way to ensure full saturation.
And through this flood of printed words, Marlon’s nine books would capture the attention of the public, drawing eager readers to their pages.
As the news and books spread through White Sand City, the story would gradually reach across the Loring Republic. By then, Marlon would undoubtedly rise as a celebrated prodigy writer, and Emerald Crest Publishing, holding the rights to his works, would naturally emerge as a major victor.
Marlon’s royalties were generous, yes—but undeniably, the more he earned, the more Ivna and her publishing house would profit.
A simple, mutually beneficial arrangement, was it not?
Ivna carefully inspected each leaflet sample and smiled.
“Uncle Arandor, as expected, when a task is entrusted to you, it’s flawless!”
Indeed, as Ivna had observed, the leaflets were perfect.
“Any task done with care can be handled well by anyone,” Arandor replied humbly, bowing slightly before asking, “Shall I head downstairs and get the printers started?”
“No.” Ivna shook her head. “It’s still too early.”
She rose, walking around her desk toward the door.
“I’ll decide after I’ve seen how the excitement unfolds outside. Perhaps, as our prodigy writer often says in his countless rural idioms… plans never keep up with the changes.”
With that, Ivna stepped out of her office, heading downstairs.
Outside, the empty lot beside Emerald Crest Publishing—home to the new headquarters of Sols Bank, spanning over three hundred square meters—was already packed to the brim with onlookers, not a single space to spare.
“Excuse me, what’s happening in there?”
Ivna furrowed her brow and approached a familiar-looking middle-aged man, who was straining on tiptoe to see the center of the commotion. She tapped his shoulder gently with her index finger.
“Don’t… oh—”
The man began to answer impatiently, but upon seeing the beautiful red-haired woman at his shoulder, his scowl melted into an expression of practiced courtesy.
“Ah, inside? Well, that boy, Marlon Lister, took an 110,000 Lants check from Sols Bank to exchange for that old paladin’s Book of Aery, but the old paladin refused—claiming Sols Bank is near collapse, he would only accept cash…”
“Unexpectedly, one of the onlookers turned out to be the person responsible for building Sols Bank’s new headquarters. Now, he’s in a heated argument with the old paladin selling the book…”
“Heh heh, this is going to be interesting. That vampire banker should be arriving any moment now!”