I Already Know My Magic Power Is Ridiculously High! Now I Just Need a Cute Wife... - Episode 64

News of Shalka’s victory reached Ortenatris, sending the city into an unprecedented frenzy.

Soon after, rumors of turning “Bangwall Fortress into a walled city” began to spread, and Zoan became convinced that this was fate.

As a merchant, one must seize business opportunities swiftly.

With that determination, Zoan eagerly set foot in Bangwall Fortress.

The Bangwall Market.

Located inside the fortress, the market was now overflowing with people.

Traders, buyers—everyone’s faces were lit with smiles.

If any other noble had occupied Bangwall, such prosperity might never have emerged.

—Bangwall, the stronghold of Shalka.

Because of this awareness, people came here with expectations and hope.

Nobles were terrifying, but Shalka was different from the rest.

Perhaps she would make Bangwall a safe haven.

Zoan and the others here shared this belief strongly.

“Hey, are you the leader of this market?”

A large man with a purple turban approached Zoan.

Zoan’s adventurer bodyguard instinctively reached for his sword, but Zoan gestured for him to stand down.

“I never claimed such a title.”

“Everyone here says otherwise.”

“Tch, those bastards pushing it onto me.”

It was likely a mix of jealousy toward Zoan’s success.

By making him the “leader,” they could conveniently blame him if anything went wrong.

Zoan clicked his tongue at the shrewd merchants.

“Ha! Tough luck, huh? Anyway, I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it?”

“…Could you give me some water? I’ve been walking nonstop, and my throat is parched.”

The man slumped his body and stuck out his tongue.

His clothes were far from clean, covered in dust—proof that he truly had been walking for a long time.

Most people coming to Bangwall were here for business opportunities, but this man, who arrived with nothing but himself, was an enigma.

Still, letting someone collapse in front of him would be troublesome, so Zoan handed him a leather pouch filled with water.

“Ahhh! That brought me back to life! You’re my savior, thanks!”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Say, are you from the slums too?”

“Yeah.”

Zoan nodded at the man’s question.

The “slums” referred to the illegal settlement on the outskirts of Ortenatris.

Five years ago, Zoan fled the war and sought refuge in Ortenos, known as the “Land of Blessings,” where he started living in the slums.

“Figures. No citizen would willingly come here. Well, I don’t have citizenship either.”

Learning that the man was in a similar situation, Zoan felt a slight sense of kinship.

The man had probably come to Bangwall hoping to earn citizenship.

“I’m Zoan. What’s your name?”

“I’m Drow. Nice to meet you, Zoan.”

“Yeah, likewise.”

Zoan shook hands with Drow.

Bangwall wasn’t exactly safe, so establishing connections was important.

“Can you make money here?”

“Yeah. The soldiers of Ortenos pay well.”

Zoan had once been a struggling peddler, barely able to support his wife and daughter.

His fortune changed the day he learned about a new product circulating in Ortenatris—seedless cotton.

“Wait, is that… Ortenos Cotton?”

“Yeah, it is.”

Drow’s eyes widened at the processed products Zoan displayed.

Zoan’s success was entirely due to his early investment in seedless cotton.

“You sure had guts to deal with that stuff. Ortenos Cotton has a shady reputation, doesn’t it? Won’t the Judiciary come after you?”

“Of course, I was scared. But thanks to that, I got a head start on the other merchants.”

The group producing seedless cotton had a history of conflict with the Judiciary.

Other merchants were too afraid to touch it, which allowed Zoan to profit as a pioneer.

There was no shortage of labor in the slums, so Zoan hired seamstresses, primarily women, to produce cotton goods.

His business boomed.

Seeing his success, other merchants followed suit, and Ortenos Cotton quickly spread, with the slums at its center.

“Looks like you’re making a fortune.”

“Well, Ortenos Cotton is still scarce. That’s how much demand there is.”

Seedless cotton was revolutionary—it was easier to process, had excellent absorption, moisture retention, and breathability, and felt incredibly soft.

It was far superior to regular cotton in every way: higher quality, cheaper, and more stable in supply.

Other textile industries collapsed overnight.

Now, it was an essential commodity.

However, there was one mystery—how was seedless cotton reproduced?

Many tried to steal and cultivate it, but none succeeded.

“Aren’t you worried about safety?”

Drow seemed concerned about potential robberies.

Handling high-value goods meant Zoan had to stay cautious.

“It’s fine. I hired adventurers for protection.”

Zoan glanced at the man standing behind him.

It was also a subtle warning to Drow—don’t try anything funny.

“Fair enough. But watch out—thieves aren’t your only problem. There are already some dangerous folks lurking in Bangwall.”

“…Dangerous folks? And how do you know that?”

“Haha! Actually, I’m an informant. Since you gave me water, I’ll share this info for free.”

Drow grinned and revealed his true profession.

Despite his rough exterior, he might be sharper than he seemed.