After a series of events including weapon testing, detailed cooperation discussions, a dinner party, and a ball, the banquet Altair organized for today had finally come to an end.
They had all agreed, or were forced to agree, to the conditions he proposed. Starting tomorrow, all factories would be integrated, and the acquisition of land near the industrial zone for the construction of new factories would begin.
Once everything was successfully completed, the remaining 69% of the shares would be distributed equally based on their respective contributions.
Altair himself took a fixed 31% stake, but it came with a price: he needed to ensure the research and development of future weaponry.
Take, for example, the various weapon design blueprints he presented in the meeting room; if it weren't for those blueprints backing him up, he might not have been able to secure such a large share.
After standing at the door to see off Owen Donovan and Heather Grant, Altair returned to the living room to find Maternal Great-Uncle Lev still wanting to smoke a 'cigar.'
Seeing Altair enter, Lev directly stubbed out the cigar in the ashtray. "It seems you've completely grown up. The way you debated those old fogies in the meeting room just now was excellent. Now, I can rest easy."
Hearing this, Altair recalled his high-spirited appearance in the meeting room and shook his head helplessly.
He thought to himself that before transmigrating, he was just a college student who had just entered society and hit walls everywhere. Who would have thought he'd grow this much after being here for only three months?
As expected, one must have confidence when doing things, and now he had taken the 'Sheffield Family and Leif Strauss' as his source of confidence, even beginning to enjoy the feeling. Has my inner mindset already started to shift to cater to this society?
While he was still deep in thought, Lev stood up, brushed off non-existent dust from his clothes, walked over to Altair, and patted his shoulder to snap him back to reality.
Once Altair's mind returned, Lev took a 'black metal plate' out of his jacket pocket and handed it to him.
Looking at the object being handed over, Altair instinctively took it. Upon touching the 'Black Iron Plate,' he felt a distinct sense of familiarity. He lowered his head, feeling its texture, and asked:
"Maternal Great-Uncle Lev, what is this? Why do I feel a special bloodline connection from this iron plate? It feels like... a 'relative,' but this is clearly just a piece of metal of unknown material."
Lev wasn't surprised by Altair's question and said plainly, "You should have entered your family's treasury by now, and you should know there's another treasury inside the treasury."
"This iron plate is the key to opening it. As for why you feel a sense of familiarity, it's because 'it' is inherently a part of you."
"To ensure family inheritance, families like ours take blood from direct-line children at birth to create a 'key,' giving it to a trusted person for safekeeping. Once the person grows up, the guardian hands the key over to 'him'."
"If 'he' reaches adulthood and fails to meet the guardian's expectations, the next generation's bloodline inheritance will be forcibly started to ensure the prosperity of the bloodline."
"Your performance today satisfied me, so I've decided to give you the treasury 'key' ahead of schedule."
"As for the method to open the treasury, it's very simple. Hold the iron plate against the 'Door,' and 'it' will automatically draw blood to verify your identity."
The atmosphere was originally quite somber, but when Altair heard about using blood to 'open the door,' he suddenly looked up. "This key... surely it doesn't need to suck blood every single time the door is opened?"
Leif Strauss replied helplessly to the question from his 'grand-nephew... grand-niece,' "That is indeed the case."
Altair inwardly condemned this backward 'Bloodline Lock' design. Who the hell designed such a torturous thing?
Seeing Altair's visibly sour expression, Lev recalled that he had been the same way in the past, reflecting that this feeling was truly satisfying. However, he also cursed inwardly, "The designer of this lock really 'wasn't human'."
...Meanwhile, inside a majestic and grand cathedral, sat rows of figures with human silhouettes whose faces could not be clearly seen.
One of them sneezed twice in a row. The person next to 'him' seemed to have anticipated it, knowing what would happen, and easily dodged the saliva spraying from 'his' mouth, then fastidiously brushed off his non-existent clothes.
The person sitting opposite him spoke directly to the being sitting in the head seat.
"I strongly request a seat change. 'He' does this every time. After all these years, I really can't stand it anymore."
These words caused the solemn cathedral to instantly erupt as various humanoid figures either tried to persuade him to stay or rejected the proposal... After seeing off Maternal Great-Uncle Lev, there were no outsiders left in the manor.
Hahn came to the living room, walked up to Altair, and said, "Count Altair, everything in the manor has been settled. The carriage is waiting at the door. We can depart and return to the Empress Borough manor."
Hearing this, Altair nodded at Hahn and said, "I am very satisfied with your work today. To show the Sheffield Family's preferential treatment of its servants, I allow 'Clayton' to participate in this project. But remember not to take too much, as that will cause resentment among others."
Without waiting for Hahn's reaction, Altair left the living room, headed for the door, and departed in the carriage.
After getting into the carriage, he found Vera with a face full of smiles. He thought to himself that this girl must have eaten plenty in the kitchen today... Time moved forward steadily. Three days had passed since Altair proposed the plan. They had already bought up all the land for the new industrial zone and begun gathering workers to build the new district using the blueprints provided by Altair.
In just three days, this new industrial zone already covered an area of 15 kilometers and was still expanding.
During these three days, because of Altair, some became 'overnight millionaires,' some went bankrupt, and some even lost their lives. A series of fortunes and disasters crashed into the calm city of Backlund like a splash of various colors.
The 'Instigator' potion within his body began to digest slowly. At the current rate, he would be able to complete the 'Acting' in just one more month.
This series of actions naturally attracted the attention of others. From tabloid reporters to members of the House of Lords, everyone wanted to enter the manor, but Altair rejected them all on the grounds of being unwell.
Among them, some had learned the positioning of this industrial park through special channels. They constantly sent gifts and wrote letters applying to join the fray.
Altair simply handed these matters over to Hahn to bring to Maternal Great-Uncle Lev and the others, letting them decide.