Don't Want to Be Ordinary Even Though I'm an Extra Character-Chapter 66: [65] A limitless dream

-Arkan Lawrence-

As Faustus immersed himself in his research within the laboratory, my eyes wandered to the large window in my office. From there, I could see workers hauling wood and stone, laying the foundation for the future of this territory.

A new world was slowly taking shape, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of its progress.

But my thoughts drifted to the past.

I remembered that moment vividly—standing in my oversized school uniform, just a boy among my classmates in the middle of the schoolyard. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, unmarred by clouds, when the distant rumble reached our ears.

Every head turned upward, searching for the source of the sound.

And then, cutting across the vast expanse of the sky, a plane soared.

To most children, it was nothing more than an ordinary sight. But to me... it was a miracle.

I didn’t wave my hands like my classmates. I didn’t shout excitedly or play the silly game of pretending to ask the passengers for money, as was common among the village kids.

Instead, I stood frozen, silently watching, trying to comprehend something far beyond my imagination at the time.

How does it fly?

A massive machine, its body forged from metal, carrying hundreds of people inside, defying gravity and gliding through the air. It wasn’t just transportation—it was art. A masterpiece born from precise calculations, backed by human ingenuity and the courage to challenge the natural order.

That moment sparked something in me.

The obsession grew slowly but steadily. I began sketching planes in my notebooks, reading everything I could find about machines and technology—often to the frustration of my teachers, who scolded me for being more interested in aerodynamics than in my actual school lessons.

That curiosity led me to the world of mechanical engineering. I wanted to understand. I wanted to create something as breathtaking and awe-inspiring as that plane.

But there was another moment, one that solidified my purpose.

I had visited a technology exhibition with my professor. Among the many wonders on display, there was a replica of a jet engine. I stood before it, tracing every intricate detail with my eyes—the turbines, the air ducts, the finely crafted blades that looked impossibly complex yet utterly perfect.

My professor, an old man who always carried the scent of coffee in his clothes, stood beside me.

He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and said, "This machine isn’t just about metal or technology, Arkan. It’s proof that humanity never stops dreaming. We weren’t born with wings—so we built them ourselves. That’s why we can fly."

Those words never left me.

Now, in this world, I often wondered—perhaps I would never build an airplane in Noctarion. This world lacked the technology to support such an endeavor.

But I could bring that spirit here.

The spirit of invention. The drive to build, to create, to dream. The will to challenge limitations and push beyond what was deemed impossible.

I exhaled slowly, watching as the workers below continued their labor.

Faustus was the first step in this long journey. I knew he must have felt the same way I did when I first saw that plane—awe, confusion, and an insatiable hunger for knowledge.

"Faustus," I murmured to myself, "you and I are the same. We are men captivated by a beauty that others fail to understand. You have alchemy, and I have machines. Let’s see how far we can take this world."

With renewed determination, I returned to my desk, sketching out the next phase of my plans.

In a world dominated by magic and swords, I would create miracles through steel and fire.

Just like the jet engine I once admired at that exhibition—simple, beautiful, and built upon the dreams of humankind.

###

I sat calmly in a recently renovated meeting room within my castle. The once bare stone walls were now adorned with simple paintings and bookshelves. A large wooden table—crafted by local artisans—stood at the center, covered with maps of the territory.

Across from me sat a broad-shouldered man, his wide grin as prominent as his overflowing coffers.

He was Bastian Hartmann, a successful merchant from the capital. I vividly remembered him as one of the first buyers who monopolized the soap I had created. Back then, I was still working at Oldan’s herbal shop, under the tutelage of the old man who had taught me much about this world. Damn, I hated recalling those days—when I was little more than a glorified errand boy. But in hindsight, it was those very struggles that had ensured my survival here.

"Arkan, you’ve really made a name for yourself since we last met," Bastian said, laughing heartily. "From a soap maker to a noble ruling a flourishing territory—now that’s an impressive feat."

I offered him a faint smile, raising my teacup. "It’s all thanks to hard work and... a little luck." Of course, I wouldn’t mention the modern knowledge I had brought from my previous life.

Bastian nodded, his sharp eyes gleaming with calculation. He studied me like a predator assessing its prey. But I knew how this game was played. A merchant like Bastian wouldn’t waste his time unless he saw a significant opportunity for profit.

"I’ve heard good things about this territory," he continued, drumming his fingers against the table. "Fine wine, a growing market, and, of course... a very competent leader."

I chuckled lightly, masking my caution. "Rumors tend to exaggerate. But yes, we are growing. And I doubt you came all this way just to flatter me, did you?"

His grin widened. "You’re right. I want to discuss a partnership. I have an extensive distribution network across the neighboring empire, especially in the capital. Your products could reach a much larger market if you work with me."

I caught the confidence in his voice, but I wasn’t the type to be swayed by grand promises. "Distribution is important, Bastian. But I also need to ensure this partnership benefits both sides. My territory is still recovering—I can’t afford to waste resources without a clear return."

He laughed again, louder this time. "As shrewd as ever. Very well, let’s get straight to business." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a document. "This is a distribution proposal I believe would be mutually beneficial. I’ll handle the transportation of your products—wine, soap, and possibly raw materials—to the capital and beyond. You’ll receive a percentage from every sale."

I took the document and scanned it carefully. The offered percentage was appealing, but there were a few minor details that raised red flags—particularly a clause about additional distribution costs. A classic tactic designed to reduce my net profits.

"Interesting," I said, placing the document on the table. "But there are some points we need to discuss. For example, this extra distribution fee—I don’t believe it’s necessary. I already have my own distribution routes to several neighboring regions, so I wouldn’t be entirely reliant on your network."

Bastian’s expression faltered for a split second before he quickly regained his composure. "Ah, that’s just a formality. Of course, we can renegotiate those terms."

I smiled, knowing I had just seized control of the negotiations. "Good. Because I’m not just looking for a profitable deal—I want the right business partner. If you’re interested, I can give you a brief tour of what we’re building here."

His interest piqued, and he eagerly nodded. "Absolutely! I’d love to see it for myself."

I stood and motioned for him to follow. We left the meeting room and stepped out into the bustling main market. Merchants called out their wares—fresh produce, simple household goods—while laborers worked on constructing new stalls along the main road.

"Look over there," I gestured toward the distant vineyards. "That’s one of our primary projects. In two years, I’m confident this region will become the empire’s leading wine producer."

Bastian nodded, clearly impressed. "You’re serious about this."

"And not just that," I continued. "I’m also planning to expand into other industries, like iron processing and textiles. My goal is to make this territory self-sufficient, not just reliant on agriculture."

"But didn’t you sell the patent for your most famous wine?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I smirked. "Yes, but only for one specific type of wine. There are many varieties. Unlike the traditional wine Marquis Arleon and I previously sold, I’ve started developing a different kind—whiskey."

He fell silent, his mind clearly racing with calculations before he finally met my gaze with newfound interest. "You’re not like other nobles, Arkan. Most of them only care about taxes and personal wealth. But you... you have a vision."

I gave him a small smile. "Vision means nothing without action. That’s why I choose my business partners carefully. If you want to be a part of this future, Bastian, then we need to build this partnership on trust and transparency."

His expression shifted, showing that he truly understood what I meant. "Alright, Arkan. I’ll revise the agreement. I want this partnership to be successful for both of us."

"Good," I said, extending my hand. "Let’s build something great."

Bastian grasped my hand with a wide grin.

In my mind, I knew this deal was a major step forward for my territory. But I also knew that I needed to stay vigilant. The world of commerce was filled with tricks and pitfalls—and I wouldn’t allow myself to fall into any of them.