THE DIMENSIONAL MERCHANT-Chapter 90 - 89: A Golden Chance

Kael arrived at the soap factory just after sunrise.

The streets of Ginip were quieter than usual. Most adventurers were staying indoors, still unsure if the mayor’s promise would be kept. Everyone had heard the mayor’s announcement: "A new Guildmaster will be appointed soon. Dues will be paid. Do not leave the city."

The whole city felt tense—like a pot just before it boiled over.

However, Kael didn’t care now. He wasn’t a noble and he wasn’t a government official. He was a businessman and he had to focus on his business. It’s his first priority. Let them solve their problems.

Kael had reached his factory.

Kael stepped inside.

The smell of oil, lye, smoke, and herbs filled the air. Lavender. Mint. Lemon. Dozens of workers moved through the space with buckets, tools, and wooden molds. Someone poured hot soap into trays. Others were cutting cooled blocks and stacking them on drying racks.

It was noisy, warm, and busy.

This was exactly what Kael wanted.

No one bowed or shouted when he entered—but many nodded or gave small waves. Kael had made it clear: no standing around when he walked in.

Work came first.

He walked past the boiling station, checking the size of the kettles and the color of the soap inside. It looked right—creamy, smooth, and thick. A good batch.

He moved to the cutting tables. Workers were slicing large soap slabs into neat blocks using thin wire and wooden frames. A boy packed the blocks into open crates for drying.

Everything moved smoothly.

Kael spotted Renn near the back, talking to two workers about curing times. Renn was holding a small board with notes written in charcoal.

Kael approached.

"L-Lord Kael!" he said, surprised. "I—I wasn’t expecting you today."

"How’s it going?" Kael asked.

"Better than I thought," Renn said. " We’re still adjusting the drying times. But this batch—" He motioned to the vat behind him, "—I think it’s finally right. Clean burn, smooth finish, and no residue."

Kael walked closer to the nearest mold and picked up a finished bar. He turned it in his hands, testing the texture.

"Looks good," he said. "Better than the last one."

Renn nodded, then hesitated. "We’ve hit a small issue. Lavender oil’s getting expensive. Merchants blame shortages. And some wrapper shipments came in torn."

Kael didn’t miss a beat. "Wrap what you can. Don’t waste materials. For now, switch to mint and lemon if lavender costs more than double."

"Got it."

Kael looked around again. "How’s the staff?"

"Still green, but they’re learning. A few late arrivals, but most of them show up on time. No big problems."

Kael gave a short nod.

Renn hesitated, then looked down for a moment. "I just wanted to say... thank you."

Kael tilted his head. "For what?"

"For giving me a chance," Renn said quietly. "Back then, when everyone else kicked me down—you didn’t just offer work. You trusted me. This factory, this team... it means everything to me."

Kael didn’t respond at first. He studied Renn’s face, then said in a level tone, "I didn’t hire you out of kindness."

Renn blinked.

"I saw potential," Kael continued. "Skill. The kind of skill I can build something with. You’re here because you earned it. And if you keep doing good work, you’ll go far." fгeewёbnoѵel_cσm

Renn nodded slowly. "I understand."

Kael pointed at the crates. "Start tracking weight per block. I want every bar the same. If we ever ship by bulk, we’ll need exact numbers."

"Understood," Renn said, already writing it down.

Kael stayed another half hour. He checked the storage room. Tasted the cured soap with a quick scratch test—firm, not crumbly. Perfect. He spoke to three different workers and asked what tools they were missing. Small things—extra ladles, new gloves.

He noted everything.

Only after walking through every part of the factory did he return to the front doors. As he stepped outside, the wooden doors closed behind him with a soft thud.

Kael then saw some adventurers were walking down the road, packs slung over shoulders, weapons strapped tightly. leaving.

Kael watched them for a long moment.

Ginip’s Adventurer’s Guild had collapsed. Its Guildmaster had fled with the treasury, and no matter how loudly the mayor claimed everything was "under control," trust had already cracked. This was a border city—far from the capital, hemmed in by forest and wasteland.

The Adventurer’s Guild here was just a branch. There were others—larger, richer, better funded. Cities with steady coin, proper command, and noble backing. Why should these men and women stay in Ginip, waiting weeks for some replacement bureaucrat to show up?

But still, Kael understood why they had come here in the first place.

Adventurers didn’t flock to border towns for comfort. They came for the wilds, for monsters, to increase their power and experience . In big cities, the competition was cutthroat—low-ranked parties barely earned enough to eat. But out here, in Ginip, even a mid-ranked group could land dangerous, well-paying work and build their name.

Some came for that. Others had no choice. Outcasts. Exiles. Or groups like that who couldn’t survive or didn’t want to live in big cities.

Kael’s gaze drifted from the adventurers to the building beside him—his soap factory. Smoke trailed faintly from the chimney.

I think I should use this opportunity, he thought, fingers flexing at his side. A good businessman can use any situation to his advantage—and this is one of them.

He was already thinking ahead. His business was growing. Eventually, he’d need guards, supply runners, escorts for caravans and shipments once he expanded to other cities. Who better than adventurers? This was a golden opportunity for him. Plenty of adventurer groups were still lingering in Ginip—hesitant to risk the journey to larger cities. Especially those of lower rank who were worried that they might not be able to survive in the big cities. And they were the best people for Kael. He could easily buy these people with less money.

But I should first recruit some people I know. People I could trust.

Kael turned from the road and started walking down the street. In a few minutes, he was standing in front of the inn.

A plan was already forming.

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