Please Lend Me 50 Million - Chapter 1

It is said among people—if the Emperor is the ruler of the imperial road, then the ruler of the seas is the Count of Bellstein of Peliche, who holds all trade in his grip.

No one could deny this. Count Bellstein raked in a staggering amount of gold coins. There was no one who could match him as he multiplied his wealth as if sweeping it up with a rake. And was that all? It was only natural that power would follow a man who held gold in his fist.

The living gold ingot. The money-devouring gold demon.

And at his side stood a woman—Anastasia Valdemir Bellstein.

Though theirs was a marriage of political arrangement, society called their union a fate bestowed by God. The reason was none other than this:

“It’s all gone.”

As much as the Count brought in—

“…Pardon?”

—Anastasia Bellstein blew it away.

Anastasia Valdemir Bellstein, nickname Asha. Born the beloved only daughter of the Halswein Marquis household, raised with every noble privilege, she asked back with vacant stupidity.

“What did you just— what did you say…?”

“To be precise… Viscount Serman made off with it. There are twelve lawsuits currently pending, and there’s not even money to retain a lawyer. By tomorrow… the seizure at the Chenben branch will begin.”

Asha listened to the end of his words and desperately wanted to wring his neck right then and there.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was I who was completely taken in by the documents that man had groveled and pushed forward, and signed! It was I who had ignored her aides when they cautioned her that the risk was too great!

In the end, it was Anastasia herself who had run the business into the ground.

She thought she had grown used to business failures, but to be betrayed by a business partner—of all things.

Maybe she should just die and be done with it rather than suffer.

Asha stared blankly out the window.

Her aide, who had been watching the situation with grave eyes, dashed to stand in front of the window just in case she might hurl herself out. And the gentleman she’d been speaking with pressed himself tight against the desk, ready to grab her if she ran for the window.

It was an overreaction if one called it that—but considering the fifty million Rublangs of debt hanging over her, it was rather on the modest side. If she so much as stepped near the window, the maidservant outside would have come bursting in.

Whether she didn’t see the desperate looks in the aide’s and gentleman’s eyes or simply didn’t care, Asha’s gaze refused to leave the window.

What kind of money was fifty million Rublangs? This was not a sum that could be compared to some middling living expenses. Had it been that amount, she wouldn’t be agonizing like this. Fifty million Rublangs was enough to purchase three great castles in the imperial capital without a second thought—a figure that rivaled an entire city’s annual tax revenue.

Even for Asha, who had weathered sixteen business bankruptcies and remained standing, this was a sum beyond any possibility of resolution.

The gentleman, watching her with nervous eyes, opened his mouth in desperation.

“T-The income you made from the candy business last time, what became of that? Surely you at least recovered the principal before it went under!”

“That was… didn’t you urge me to invest that money when we were expanding the branches!”

“So you threw every last coin of it in there?!”

I thought you’d at least kept some secret funds aside.

I thought you’d kept at least a small starting reserve.

The heretic of the ever-cautious Halswein house. Knowing her creed was all in and her specialty was mortgage everything—not seeing that was his fault.

The gentleman steadied his trembling lips with the desperation of a man grasping at the last straw.

“Right. Your family home! There’s the Arcal land your parents gave you, isn’t there? It’s been long known as a fertile place for generations—even selling it in a hurry would fetch a good price. So if you at least liquidate that….”

“……”

She said nothing, staring into the void.

“D-don’t tell me, even that—!”

The gentleman’s face collapsed into horror as though he might start foaming at the mouth, but cruelly, both the aide and Asha did nothing but avert their eyes awkwardly.

The personal fortune Asha had inherited from her maternal family had long since been sacrificed to her sixteen tearful tales of financial recovery. Put simply: it had been drained dry long ago through juggling business funds around.

What’s more, her pleading letters begging to borrow money had become openly used as fire-starter back at her family home—so reaching out her hand further was no longer even a real option.

Had she at least failed in small, modest ways, perhaps. But why did she have to crash and burn spectacularly right when things were going so well?!