Rorschach rushed over to the near-bankrupt dye factory to act out a scene straight from a "tycoon falls for me" romance. The owner had barely spoken thirty sentences, yet Rorschach had not only offered him a long-term business deal but also proposed an acquisition and capital injection.

Mr. Hasse looked Angerhorn up and down, but he couldn’t see what made him such a master of human nature. Angerhorn himself was also utterly baffled as to why he had suddenly received an angel investment.

Indeed, in his eyes, this strange young master was now an angel of hope. Angerhorn could also see who held the real authority, so he pulled Rorschach along, eagerly explaining the production line and the grand plans he originally had for the company.

Although, since work had stopped three days ago, only the stubborn stench of ammonia remained.

The two of them followed the logistical flow of the production line, trailed by Mr. Hasse, who was racking his brain for a way to get Rorschach to calm down.

Treating Rorschach with the reverence one would show a primary investor, Angerhorn began a detailed tour of the various vats, vessels, furnaces, and reaction chambers he had staked his entire fortune on. However, Rorschach would grasp the function of each piece of equipment before he was even halfway through his explanation, and even offer suggestions for improvement that sounded entirely feasible.

"You’re an expert in this field!" Angerhorn said, thoroughly amazed. He asked if Rorschach had studied at a university in Munich. Rorschach simply showed him his badge. The young man’s face lit up in realization. "Oh, you’re a Mage! Well, that explains it."

’Seriously? Are all you Bayern people this superstitious about Mages? Anything that seems unreasonable just becomes perfectly logical once you add magic to the equation, is that it?’

However, this gave Rorschach an idea for how to convince Mr. Hasse.

Before he and Hasse left, Rorschach took ten gleaming gold coins from his own pocket and pressed them into Angerhorn’s hands, telling him not to rush to repay his debts, but to use the money to quickly rehire his master craftsmen and skilled workers. "As for the debt, I’m no expert. Why don’t you gather your creditors in three days? I’ll bring Mr. Hasse and a lawyer, and we can sort out the debt settlement and the investment all at once."

Angerhorn, a former goldsmith, hadn’t held such heavy gold in a long time. He saw off the angel and his attendant, Mr. Hasse, with tears streaming down his face.

Once they were out of the factory, the merchant could no longer hold his tongue. After all, no contract had been signed yet, so there was still a chance to salvage the situation.

"This is not proper business conduct!" Since Rorschach had paid with his own gold coins, Hasse couldn’t say much more about that part. "Do you really have that much faith in a factory that’s gone under?"

"Because of my innate Prophetic Magic! My spiritual intuition has given me a revelation: Mr. Angerhorn’s enterprise is destined for immeasurable growth! Of course, the last two sentences are a secret. Please, Mr. Hasse, keep this in the strictest confidence." Rorschach stared at him intently, making the merchant chew up and swallow all the pros and cons he had been about to vehemently argue.

Rorschach was no master of human psychology, but a Mage who claimed to be an expert in prophecy—while actually being an expert in the Fireball Skill—was just as good at persuading people. It was merely different paths leading to the same result.

"Then what did you foresee?" Hasse still had one last shred of doubt, along with a dash of curiosity.

Rorschach’s gaze followed the stream into the distance, all the way to the sunlit horizon where the Duma River gleamed. "From the universities of Istani to the Alchemy Department of the Holy Kingdom’s Magic Tower, and now to this riverbank, an industry with infinite potential is steadily rising. If we cultivate it carefully, we will raise a Giant Beast that can sway the entire Kingdom of Bayern."

"A Giant Beast?" Mr. Hasse’s vision had not yet reached a level that could transcend the times; he couldn’t see the small factory’s potential for "hyper-evolution."

Rorschach couldn’t say much more. He was just drawing on the experience of his past life, which allowed him to recognize a critical juncture. Here, he saw the seed of a towering tree, one he could purchase at minimal cost. At present, within the Kingdom of Bayern and the Alliance at large, the dominant form of commercial organization was the Guild. If things continued to develop along this path, monopolistic industry groups—what the Valois people called "Cartels"—would eventually emerge.

In his previous life, there had been an outrageous entity called "IG Farben." At its peak, it completely monopolized the alchemy industry of a major industrial nation, and the three companies it was broken up into were still super-giants. As for why it was broken up... during the "Second Season of the Global Industrial Nations Super League," the group developed a highly effective insecticide. After it was produced, however, most of it wasn’t used to kill insects. When its home nation lost, this monopolistic beast was "harshly" liquidated as a result.

Seeing Rorschach remain silent, Hasse couldn’t help but ask, "Is something the matter?"

"It’s nothing, I just thought of a sad story." He climbed into the carriage and began to discuss the acquisition with Hasse.

"Since Mr. Angerhorn offended the Mining and Metallurgy Association, it’s unlikely he’ll be able to work with ore-based colorants again. Actually, coal tar is just a byproduct of coal gas. In the Guild’s eyes, they’ve already secured the main product’s business, so there’s no need for them to go looking for trouble with ’Basif’."

"So, as long as we provide him with orders and make sure Angerhorn stops encroaching on the business of other dye workshops, the Association probably won’t apply any more pressure." Hasse had also heard the young man talk about his debt; for "Fanta," the current amount was a trifle. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

"But this workshop must continue to grow in the future. It has to return to its original business—synthetic dyes." The manufacturing of synthetic dyes was the first lightbulb to be lit in the organic chemical industry. Those colorful compounds weren’t just for dyeing; one could also find ingredients with therapeutic properties among them.

The first commercially produced antibacterial drug wasn’t penicillin, but the sulfa drug "Prontosil," which was originally a red dye. Of course, the problem with this drug was that it was difficult to metabolize after ingestion. A mild side effect could be a urinary blockage, while a severe one meant, as the saying goes, "death is inevitable."

Rorschach believed that even in a world with magic, these drugs had great potential. The current Resuscitation Skill was often cast on the body, especially on open wounds. While it promoted tissue repair, it also accelerated the growth of microorganisms on the wound’s surface. The fact that Mariano had fallen into a persistent low-grade fever after Rorschach healed his fatal wound was proof of a bacterial infection—particularly in his lungs and respiratory tract. He wasn’t completely cured until Master Humboldt made a trip to see him, but not everyone was lucky enough to receive treatment from a Great Mage.

Besides, once war broke out, antibacterial drugs, no matter how expensive, would still be cheaper than a Healing Scroll.

Hearing that Rorschach wanted the workshop to continue in the synthetic dye business after the acquisition, Hasse felt a headache coming on. "So which is it this time? Is the Mining and Metallurgy Association going to suffer, or the Dyeing and Weaving Guild?"

Rorschach gave the overthinking Mr. Hasse a smile. "I am neither a tyrant nor a harbinger of calamity, just a lowly Middle Level Mage. How could I possibly reshuffle an entire pillar industry entrenched in Bayern overnight? Besides, ruining businesses is something you can do once, maybe twice, but not a third time. We can’t let ’Fanta’ get blacklisted by every merchant, can we?"

’You’ve already done it, so isn’t this a case of "the first time and countless more to follow"? Who would believe you’re ready to wash your hands of it now...’ Hasse silently grumbled. In just one short month, the grass on the Glass Guild’s grave had grown waist-high. The workshops that refused to cooperate with "Fanta" had met with utter misery. Not only had their products lost all competitiveness, but they were also utterly crushed on price and yield rate by competitors who had shifted to large-scale production. The merchants of the Logistics Guild canceling their contracts delivered the final blow, ensuring these old artisans could never recover.

It helped that, given the era, these obsolete old diehards couldn’t play the "intangible cultural heritage" card or use "bespoke and handmade" as a marketing gimmick.

"I’m returning to the Holy Kingdom soon. Mr. Pierre is already rushing me, so I won’t be able to stir up any trouble these next few days." Rorschach said this to put Hasse’s mind at ease. However, Pierre, who had already returned to Valuva, had been complaining to Rorschach that his own nephew had no talent for business and that the situation in the Holy Kingdom was also changing.

Rorschach thought for a moment and decided he would return after finishing one last thing. "I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to take full charge of the acquisition. If Mr. Angerhorn runs into difficulties, give him a hand, but do not interfere with ’Basif’s’ operations after the acquisition."