All in Charisma (A LitRPG/Isekai Adventure)

The next morning, Justin's Jester's Roulette gave him a +6 boost to his Endurance attribute and granted him an enchantment called "Fleet of Foot," a passive 10% evasion buff. Combined with his Essence of a Gentleman Boon, he effectively had a 25% dodge chance, which could be further boosted to 35% with Seraphis's Clarity.

It was the perfect enchantment for his days of Vault-running and being out in the wilds. But it would probably not be too useful here in Belmora.

At the breakfast table that morning, Justin shared the news of the assassination attempt. His employees gasped at the audacity.

"So what's our plan now?" Tammy asked. "We can't let this stand."

"We discussed it last night," Justin replied. "First, Alistair will speak to the Templars. The business will launch as normal—faster, if anything. And I need to get a message to the Corrin family, or I may have to visit them myself. They need to know."

"Either way," Rinna said, "it sounds like the battle lines are drawn." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Justin. You did the right thing, and it led to this situation."

"Don't blame yourselves," Justin said. "If I could go back, I wouldn't change anything. Without the four of you—Tammy, Rinna, Ilsa, and Rita—there's no way I'd be able to make this idea work. You are the hands and feet that will get this moving. None of that changes because of one assassination attempt."

"You have a lot of faith, Mr. Talemaker," Tammy said. "It seems like the winds are blowing stronger and not in our favor."

"Always darkest before the dawn," Justin said, undeterred. "Now, the first order of business: Alistair will speak to his contact, and we'll spend the rest of the day preparing for our launch. We might have our first customer. Lord Corrin mentioned wanting effective hair tonic, so perhaps we can ask Ardabel about that."

"How did you survive the attack, anyway?" Ilsa asked.

"Let's just say a Gentleman is never without his resources. Now, the plan for the day: Rinna will finish making those summoning charms. Lila and Ardabel will work on the potions as soon as he arrives. Meanwhile, everyone else stays home today, setting up shop."

"What about security?" Alistair asked.

"No change for now," Justin replied. "Other than every night, Atlas will stand guard."

"And what will you do in case of a home invasion?" Rinna asked. "Don't get me wrong, Mr. Talemaker, I want to work for you, but if my life and others' are in danger... they'd likely kill us too because we know things."

"We need to secure the second floor somehow," Justin said. "Maybe a metal door we can use to cover the landing. If anything, that'll buy us time in case the worst happens."

At that moment, a loud knock at the front door resounded from the first floor.

Justin went to the window of the common room across the hall, peering down into the alley. There stood a well-dressed man in a well-tailored suit with a top hat and cane, perhaps in his late forties, with hair more gray than brown. Justin's monocle revealed him to be a Level 20 Diplomat.

"A Level 20 Diplomat," Justin said. "Late forties."

Lila and Alistair joined him to get a view.

"Never seen him before," Lila said. "Is he connected to the attack somehow?"

"Only one way to find out," Alistair said.

Facing the others, Justin said, "Stay up here. I'm sure it's nothing."

They headed downstairs. This Diplomat might not even be connected with the attack at all; perhaps it was someone connected to the masquerade. Either way, another attack in the early morning would be the height of foolishness, but Justin wasn't going to let his guard down.

With a nod to his companions, Justin opened the door.

Instantly, the man beamed a practiced smile, noting their weapons. "Mr. Elian Whittings. I come in peace. I'm here about what happened last night."

Justin narrowed his eyes. "You have ten seconds to explain yourself."

The man removed his top hat and gave a slight bow. "My employer sent me here regarding a situation I've been made aware of. I believe you know what I mean."

"Five seconds."

Before Mr. Whittings could respond, Lila spoke. "You're with the Aurelians, then. Tell me why we shouldn't strike you down right now."

"That would be... inadvisable. As I said, last night's incident was an unfortunate miscommunication."

"A miscommunication?" Justin asked. "The Aurelians tried to kill me!"

"Nonetheless, my point stands. An unfortunate error. My client prefers this doesn't spread any further, and they're willing to make it worth your while."

"Your client broke the truce," Alistair said firmly. "Moreover, Mr. Talemaker here was an escort for the Corrin family to the Spring Masquerade. Your 'client' is panicking because he realizes he's made a grave mistake."

"He didn't expect me to survive," Justin said, "and now he wants to make a deal? No way!"

"All understandable points," the Diplomat said, well, diplomatically. "But please, listen to reason, as difficult as that might be. My client insists this not escalate."

"You have a lot of gall," Justin said.

"All the same, I must deliver my message. I'm not at liberty to share all the details, but suffice it to say, this attack was never intended to happen, Mr. Talemaker. And my client wants to make amends."

"I don't see how that's possible. Or why I should even care."

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"You should most certainly care. You possess something that my client's enemies rarely have: leverage. What do you want, Mr. Talemaker? Just say it, and if it's possible, it shall be yours, provided you agree to keep quiet and out of Count Aurelian's way."

"So you're admitting it's him, at least."

"I am," Mr. Whittings said. "In short, he is willing to pay you handsomely for your silence."

"How can I possibly trust him?"

"I have a skill called My Word is Golden. It would bind Count Aurelian to the agreement."

Justin blinked. Apparently, he wasn't the only one with a skill that guaranteed ironclad deals. "Haven't heard of that one."

"It's a rare skill sometimes presented to high-level Diplomats," Mr. Whittings explained. "I happen to be one of them."

Justin was about to tell him to get lost but stopped. If he did that, it would be a continuation of the war the Aurelians had started.

If peace could be guaranteed, either through this Diplomat's skill or Justin's own, it might be worth pursuing.

"I'd like to at least hear your offer," Justin said.

Alistair looked at him in surprise but said nothing.

The Diplomat cleared his throat. "The amount discussed... what he wanted to settle for was..." He coughed awkwardly. "Fifty gold crowns."

Justin laughed. "Is that a joke? Surely Count Aurelian's reputation is worth more than that." He paused meaningfully. "Or perhaps it isn't?"

"Maybe it is worth more. But we live in reality, and reality is practical, above all else. If you agree, the money is yours immediately. You would only need to agree verbally with me, under the auspices of 'My Word is Golden.' This is the best path forward for both parties. And of course, my client's second term is that something like this will never happen again. The idea is 'live and let live.'

"That's a nice sentiment. He was all ready to kill me yesterday, and this morning it was all a dreadful mistake. Cry me a river. If your master wants to get out of this, it'll cost a hell of a lot more than fifty gold crowns."

"Be that as it may," Whittings said, a bit miffed, "Count Aurelian is doing something he rarely does. He's admitting to a mistake and wanting to make restitution." Whittings looked at him meaningfully. "The alternative... well, I hope it doesn't come to that."

"The alternative for him, you mean? You know who doesn't like truce-breakers? The Templars of Arion. You interfere with us, you are messing with them."

"We are well aware," Whittings said tersely, "which is why we'd just like to get back to business."

"If that's true, then I want more than fifty gold," Justin said. "I also want an ironclad guarantee that your client will not interfere with me, anyone in business with me, or anyone under my employ. Nor can he mess with my affairs at court."

"That can be arranged, to an extent, with the stipulation that you also refrain from doing the same to the Aurelian's affairs. You've already done that once; that's the cause of this whole mess to begin with, lest you forget. Do you understand?"

Justin did. Above all, House Aurelian feared Justin and the Corrins would blow the lid off their seedy Floating Market operations and possible underworld ties.

It meant no more chasing justice. It might even mean he couldn't help the Corrins there, should they want it in the future, which would no doubt strain relations.

"Sorry, Mr. Whittings," Justin said. "But I think Count Aurelian is far more responsible for the attack than you're admitting. Maybe you're right that it was a mistake. Regardless, it's his mistake—a mistake for which he must bear the consequences."

Whittings watched him closely. "Mr. Talemaker, let me be clear. You have the rare opportunity to demand something from Count Aurelian. I suggest you consider this because the alternative..." He paused meaningfully. "...means a war with an opponent you're woefully unprepared to face."

As much as Justin wanted to say "no," he had to also be practical. He had a lot on his plate. He couldn't handle opening a business, dealing with the Crimson Scales, and a conflict with the richest family in Belmora.

He could go scorched earth, yes, but what would he gain from that? He would gain a higher profile and was almost certainly going to come to Valdrik's attention before he was ready.

But in a way, the notoriety wasn't a bad thing. It was now a shield against the Aurelians, and the offer of peace was backed up by a class skill that seemed quite similar to his own.

"I want two platinum shards," Justin said. "And I want guaranteed immunity for not just me, but anyone under my employ."

"Done," Mr. Whittings said, looking relieved.

"And one more thing," Justin said. "A favor."

Whittings arched an eyebrow and gave a sly smile. "A favor? That can be worth quite a bit, depending on what it is."

"As you know, any new business faces headwinds," Justin said. "And mine is facing a lot. I might need help in the future that only someone as influential as Count Aurelian can fulfill."

"Did you have anything specific in mind, or...?"

"Nothing specific. But it's just one favor, guaranteed by My Word is Golden in addition to my own skill, Gentleman's Agreement."

"Ah," Mr. Whittings said. "Count Aurelian will not like you using your own skill. I assure you, My Word is Golden is ironclad, but unfortunately, it allows each party to offer up two terms. So you must choose between the money, the favor, or guaranteed truce. Not all three."

"My skill allows for infinite terms and conditions," Justin said.

Mr. Whittings's eyes widened. "In truth?"

Justin nodded. "So, what will it be?"

Mr. Whittings seemed to consider this for a moment. "I can't make this deal on the spot. I'll have to ask his opinion and return later. In the meantime, please don't share or disseminate anything, nor have your employees do the same. I trust you haven't told anyone yet?"

"Only my employees," Justin said. "But if you haven't returned by noon, Alistair here will be making a friendly visit to the Templars."

Alistair shifted, letting his hand drift to the hilt of his blade.

Mr. Whittings cleared his throat. "That won't be necessary, Mr. Talemaker." He tipped his hat. "I'll be back in about two hours, perhaps even less."

After Whittings left, the three retreated to the office to discuss the offer privately, telling the ladies to get started on their tasks and assuring them there was no immediate danger.

"A platinum shard, immunity for our employees, and a favor from Count Aurelian," Lila said, listing the terms. "That's substantial."

"It's also admitting defeat," Alistair said, his jaw tight. "We'd be letting them buy their way out of an assassination attempt. An assassination attempt!"

"Would we?" Justin asked. "Or would we be choosing our battles wisely?"

Alistair's expression remained skeptical. "This feels like rewarding bad behavior. They try to kill you, fail, then throw money at the problem."

"But think practically," Lila said. "We've got the business launch, potential guild issues, the Crimson Scales moving into our area, and now this. Can we really handle a war with the Aurelians on top of everything else? A war that, despite everything we know about them, could end poorly for us?"

"She has a point," Justin said. "We're already stretched thin. And that favor could be incredibly valuable down the line."

"Assuming they agree to it," Alistair said. "These merchant nobles prefer specific conditions."

"But imagine how it might help us. Our business will face many obstacles. If we grow, others will try to stop us. We'll need a big favor eventually. With Gentleman's Agreement, they'll have to provide it."

"And if they want to use Whitting's skill and won't allow yours? Which of our three asks do we give up?"

"The money," Justin said immediately. "The favor will be more valuable down the line. But that doesn't matter. No way I'm trusting his skill over mine."

Alistair was quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with the decision. "I don't like it... but I see the logic. We're not equipped for a two-front war."

"Plus," Lila added, "using their own favor has a certain poetic justice to it."

"You're both thinking like business owners," Alistair said, though his tone had softened. "Which, I suppose, is what you are now." He sighed. "Fine. But we need ironclad guarantees of safety. The money is good, and so is the favor, but it means nothing if there's a loophole they can exploit."

"Agreed," Justin said. "My Gentleman's Agreement skill is pretty good at covering loopholes on its own. If it saved me with Valdrik, it'll save me with Count Aurelian."

"And if this guy isn't back by noon?" Lila asked. "What then?"

Justin considered this. It would mean the Aurelians were calling their bluff, and they would have lost hours.

"We have to stick by our word," Justin said. "The Templars aren't far from here. It would be a disaster for us, but we have to trust it's a bigger disaster for them."

"I hope you're right, Justin," Alistair said. "Time to see how the dice fall."