Chapter 58: Repayment
The moon was high up in the sky when Wade arrived at the hotel.
Two guards were stationed at the door, and when Wade presented his name, they quickly led him inside.
He was guided through the wide hallways and up a flight of stairs, until they reached a familiar door.
The guard knocked once, then opened it, ushering Wade in.
It was the same study he’d been in before, but there were changes this time.
Another chair sat across the desk, clearly meant for him. And to the side, at a smaller table, sat a man with papers spread before him, quill already in hand. His eyes flicked to Wade before returning to his work.
"Ah, Wade," Viscount Fairchild greeted warmly, rising slightly from his seat before settling back behind the desk. "Please, sit."
Wade obliged, lowering himself into the chair, keeping his back straight and his eyes on the noble.
Fairchild gestured casually toward the man at the smaller table. "This is my scribe. He’ll be drafting the contract while we negotiate, so once we’re done, all that will remain is to sign."
Wade gave the man a quick nod, then turned back as Fairchild reached for a decanter. "Wine?"
"No, thank you," Wade said politely.
Fairchild chuckled, pouring only for himself. "I like that. A good businessman doesn’t let anything cloud his judgment in the middle of a critical deal."
He raised his glass, took a slow sip, watching Wade like a hawk waiting for its prey to make a mistake.
"Well then," he said, folding his hands together. A faint smile appeared on his face. "Shall we begin?"
"Let’s." Wade nodded.
"Great." Fairchild leaned back in his chair, his wineglass spinning lazily between his fingers.
"The first matter we’ll address is the payment structure of this loan."
"I believe clarity up front is the hallmark of any respectable contract," he continued.
"Since you are asking for 500,000 coins with interest bringing the total to 625,000, I propose a simple arrangement."
He leaned forward, placing the glass carefully on the desk. "You will repay me 50,000 coins per week."
"I want a regular, consistent, and punctual payment. That way, the debt will be cleared in just over three months."
Wade did not even take a second to think. He shook his head firmly. "Impossible."
Fairchild raised a brow. "Impossible?"
"Yes," Wade said, leaning slightly forward. "50,000 coins per week? That’s not repayment. That’s a death sentence."
"Even a seasoned adventurer would struggle to make that kind of money consistently without taking on suicidal risks. That structure doesn’t give me a chance to survive long enough to repay you."
"Survival," Fairchild mused, "is the debtor’s problem, not the creditor’s."
"And profit," Wade countered evenly, "is the creditor’s problem, not the debtor’s."
"If I die in three weeks because of impossible terms, you get nothing. The smart move is to structure it so that I can both live and keep paying."
The noble’s smile looked like it was painted on, but he didn’t interrupt. Wade continued.
"I’ll pay 10,000 coins per week. That’s a sustainable rate. It allows me to take risks, yes, but also ensures longevity. Longevity means more payments for you."
Fairchild let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Ten thousand? You insult me, Wade. Do you think I fund half a million coins for charity?"
"At that rate, it would take you more than a year to repay me. And frankly, I don’t like tying up my capital for that long. My bottom line demands quicker turnover."
The negotiation began to turn into a tug-of-war.
Wade pushed his point, laying out arguments that adventurers needed time between dungeon runs to recover, that income fluctuated depending on loot, and that setting too steep a payment guaranteed a collapse in the deal.
Fairchild pressed back just as hard, emphasizing risk, capital, and the need for efficiency in his investments.
Back and forth, numbers rose and fell.
Wade offered twelve thousand, and Fairchild scoffed.
Fairchild countered with forty thousand, and Wade refused outright.
The noble shifted to thirty, Wade to fifteen.
The scribe’s quill kept scratching across parchment as the two men clashed with words, doing his job diligently.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they landed at the middle ground.
"25,000 coins per week," Fairchild said, voice firm. "Not a coin less."
Wade exhaled, calculating quickly.
At that rate, with 625,000 coins to pay, it would take him twenty-five weeks, which was six months and one additional week, to clear his debt.
It was long enough to give him breathing room. Short enough to keep Fairchild satisfied.
And more importantly, he was confident he could clear the debt before the time even elapsed.
One successful dungeon run should give him enough for at least three weeks of payments. That was enough breathing room.
And if he failed, it wouldn’t matter anyways.
Wade nodded, extending his hand. "Deal."
Fairchild’s grin widened as he clasped Wade’s hand firmly, sealing the first step of their agreement.
"Excellent," Fairchild said, releasing his grip and settling back into his chair.
"Now that we’ve resolved the matter of repayment, let us move on to the next point of negotiation."
He laced his fingers together on the desk, studying Wade.
"We must address the matter of late payment. A contract without safeguards against delinquency is as good as kindling."
"I have no interest in coddling a debtor. You see, Wade, debtors require pressure, clear penalties, to ensure they do not grow lax with their obligations."
Wade kept his face blank, waiting.
"I propose this," Fairchild continued. "If you fail to deliver payment on the appointed week, you will owe me more than coins."
"You will go on five quests for me, of my choosing. Dangerous or not, inconvenient or not. That, I believe, will instill the seriousness of punctuality."
Wade’s stomach tightened, though outwardly he gave only a small shrug.
He had expected Fairchild to say something along these lines. Rowan had, of course, warned him.
If he accepted, it would tie him to jobs the Viscount would prefer done in the shadows.
Most adventurers would balk at the number of quests, then haggle down to something like one quest per late payment.
And that was what Fairchild was expecting.
Instead, Wade leaned forward, resting an elbow on the desk.
"No quests," he said flatly.