Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money! (RWBY SI) ch 58

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Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock. 

The grandfather clock's machinery reverberated around the classical styled room. It screamed culture and tradition, what with the wood furnishings, the near lack of anything techy like in Solitas. I yawned, relaxed on the antique wooden chair I sat on. Right ahead was the secretary, typing away at her computer quietly. She looked to be in her late fifties, clad in semi-formal business wear. I had tried to enter into a conversation with her just to pass the time but she gave short replies that essentially told me she did not want to talk. I shrugged, my legs stretched out on the wonderfully crimson carpet at my feet. I heard the secretary stop typing for a second then glare at me.

"Please avoid dirtying the carpet, sir," she warned me. 

"It's a carpet, ma'am. Stepping on carpets is what we are supposed to do," I replied. 

"You are in the office of the First Minister, Mister Wayland. Proper decorum is expected," the secretary snapped. I thought about her words for a second then...withdrew my legs half-way. She scowled.

"I've been waiting for thirty minutes, ma'am," I spoke up. "What could be so important that the First Minister needs to delay our meeting?" 

"He has a previous engagement. We take our governing here seriously," The secretary replied. 

​And so she says. What was surely happening was the Valean Council taking its sweet ass time as a way to spite me and to display some farcical manner of control. If this was any other place, I would have just left. But sadly, I could not just do that. While my Shields could operate on Valean soil without issue, it was for defensive purposes mostly. They were not allowed to form en masse and go into massive offensives against the Grimm, that was the job of the Valean Army now. If I didn't want my forces to get harrassed by the Valeans and cause an international incident, I needed permission from the Valean Council. 

"Of course you do," I smiled thickly. "It surely is a wonder to see the gears of Valean administration. Truly, this is why Vale is what it is today." 

Then after what felt like eternity, the doors which lead to the First Minister's private office opened. A woman clad head to toe in old-timey Musketeer garb peeked out. She looked to be in her middle-age, with short brown hair and a dark-eye patch covering her left eye. Her clothes were tight, long pants that cut by the thighs and worn over stockings and long boots that reached up her knees. "The First Minister will see you now," she rumbled. Her voice was experienced and husky. I smiled, she felt familiar but I could not properly place it. My mind whirled back to many years ago, to the attempted bombing and assassination of the Belladonnas. 

"Charming," I said simply as I stood up. I turned to the secretary and gave her a quick wink in which she rolled her eyes in disgust. I chuckled to myself as I walked up, travelling through the portal that would lead me into the lion's den. As I walked in, the Musketeer closed the door behind me. 

The First Minister's office was massive. It had a high ceiling, wood all around. At the centre, a massive map of the world with Vale at its center. Ahead was a fireplace, mantled on it was a massive flag of Vale that reached up to the top. Under it, a man sat behind a desk. He looked old now, in his eighties I felt. But despite that, he still maintained a relatively exercised figure. He wore something similar to a Cassock. Instead of red, it was Valean Green. The only thing red to it was the red sash around his waist. His face was aristocratic, high-cheekbones and a sharp nose. His hair was more than grey but streaks of black remained. 

Cardinal Armand Rouge. The First Minister. 

​"I am honoured that you have met with me, Minister Rouge," I laid it out thickly, walking forward, my boot-steps echoing against the walls. "But I was under the impression that I was to meet with the Valean Council who has five. You are only one." 

​His expression was stoic, his arms at rest on his desk. I could hear the musketeer following behind me. "They all have voted to make me speak for them," he said simply. 

​That's that then. "I see," I remarked. I gestured to the chair across his table. "May I take a seat?" 

"Sit," the Cardinal replied. Now, protocol dictated I sit nice and slow. I instead plopped down. The eye twitch from Rouge was priceless. 

I grinned. "I am glad to see that your health is still good. The years are treating you well." 

This was not the first time I had met Rouge. A great conference was called by him after the Sea Dragon launched. He wanted safeguards to avoid weaponizing space, keep space neutral. Long story short, I acquiesced and approved it. Thus, my satellite network has no weapons or spy equipment. 

Officially. 

"We are not here to talk about my health," Rouge replied. "It is about your plan to take your armies to tread upon hallowed soil." 

He leaned in, eyes focused directly on me. "Mount Glenn was a Valean project. Valean sweat, blood, and tears were poured into that expansion. And lives were paid for its closing. You are asking to step upon foul memories that many still struggle to deal with." He clicked his lips. "Why?" 

I listened quietly, my usual expression gone for a much more serious one, as if I was gravelly considering my choices. Hell, if I didn't know better, I would actually believe that Rouge was speaking his heart out on this matter. Except I knew that he was full of shit. By pulling this emotional spiel, he was hiding the fact that Mount Glenn hid a still functioning train network that would be used to blow a big hole into the heart of Vale and soon, let Grimm pour in. 

I seriously could not understand how a man who had given his very life for Vale would allow such a thing to happen. 

"Because, Cardinal, Mount Glenn represents opportunities," I said simply. Rouge believed that I was a annoying civilian so, I will continue to behave as one. "Political, economic, and military. I will now explain." 

He leaned back on his seat, lips curled with displeasure. "Explain." 

"Economic wise, millions upon millions of lien was poured into the construction of Mount Glenn. Untouched and untapped. With its reactivation, Vale would receive kickbacks and taxes once Royal and Imperial takes control of it." I explained, holding out one finger. 

Mount Glenn was big, very big. The whole point of it was to be a new place for Valeans to live in and thus, it was meticulously planned with a massive population in mind. The industrial zones there were even bigger than my own Steyr.

One finger turned two. "Political wise, I am not interested to govern the place. I am not going to declare a new kingdom and make myself king nor is this a project of the Solitan Government. I am doing this alone. I am only interested in setting up economic zones there and leave the city to be returned to your jurisdiction." 

Abd if course, fortify the shit out of it and once Vale and Beacon gets attacked, use it as a base to funnel reinforcements into the city. 

Three fingers now. "And lastly, Mount Glenn represents an open backdoor into Vale. I know that the tunnels into Vale had long since been sealed but the Grimm are uncannily crafty. They could find ways into Vale from entrances thought to be sealed but aren't. It could also prove to be a hiding ground for uncanny characters." 

"Mount Glenn is secure and has long since been sealed. All the entrances are blocked. Even if the Grimm find a way into the Vale, most passages are small and they cannot tunnel. I would know, Mister Wayland," He leaned in. "I oversaw every single closing of the passages. I know." 

Huh. So this meant...

​Rouge personally saw to the closing of the tunnels. "If I remember, Minister, that not everyone was evacuated when the tunnels were closed. Does this mean...?"

"Yes," he said simply. 

From where she stood, the musketeer was deadly quiet. 

"Your proposal, Mister Wayland, all hinges on personal gain and profit. I do not see any reason why I should allow your forces to desecrate Valean soil and the lives of the lost. As for your reasoning, Mount Glenn is Grimm-infested. No one in their right mind would attempt to hide there." 

"Not unless they had Huntsmen," I retorted. "Beacon regularly sends its students to Mount Glenn to train there, Minister, yet I do not see you calling them out for it." 

It was my turn to lean in. "If Mount Glenn was truly off limits, then they should not be allowed there in the first place. As far as I can see, you really do not like the idea of me going there. Why?" 

"It is still sovereign Valean territory. Students of Beacon are free to operate there," bit back Rouge, not missing a beat. "You are a Solitan citizen with a foreign military force. I do not think you would approve if Valean troops go and start trouble in your country." 

"Yet I am not using Solitan troops. I am a Solitan citizen, yes, but my men are mercenaries. And if I remember correctly, there is really nothing stopping mercenaries and huntsmen who themselves are glorified mercenaries to operate anywhere provided it is not in the environs of a city." The annoyance I felt was starting to leak out. My eyebrows were furrowed, my lips set into a growl. "I am enacting this on my own. I am going to pay for all this on my own. The only thing stopping me is you." 

"No living soul will enter Mount Glenn for as long as I live," Cardinal Rouge said with total and utter finality. Rouge openly snorted. "You are wasting your time. I will not approve of this. The rest of the Council will not approve of it. This is a wasted effort." 

"Or I could just ignore you wholesale and just send my men in, Minister," I said quickly and bluntly. Behind me, the musketeer bristled. The glare that Rouge sent me was murderous. 

"You would not dare," he growled. 

The spite I felt was delicious. "Oh, but I would!" I snorted. "Listen, Minister. I am here negotiating in good faith. The very fact that I am here in front of you is courtesy to you and your Kingdom. I am willing to share in the pie that I am going to be baking. I could have easily just ignored all this pomp and circumstance and did it anyway and you'd find out about it in the news." 

​I flashed a grin. "And what could you do to stop me, hm?" 

"Are you really willing to endanger the relationship between our kingdoms over this?" Rouge asked in disbelief. Rich of you to say, you fucking hypocrite. 

"Well, my Kingdom has nothing to do with it because they are not involved. As far as they are concerned, this is all my doing. I am willing to provide receipts about it even." I chuckled. "So, what is it going to be? You want a slice of the pie or not?" 

"Get out of my office," Rouge said simply. 

​With that, I simply stood up and offered him a customary bow. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Cardinal." 

"It was not," he said simply. 

I turned away, ignoring the looks the musketeer sent my way. 

​Despite it looking like a total failure, it really was not. Sure, Rouge may have said that he spoke for the Council but he was not the council. I would need three of them to sign off on this then, I will be set. 

Fucking damn it, I would have to do fucking politics again. 

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The Valeans watched the arrogant Solitan leave. As he closed the door behind him, Rouge let out a long suffering sigh as he relaxed on his chair. Mazarin turned from the door then back to him. "Cardinal?" 

Rouge looked up at her. "What is it, Mazarin?" 

"What are we going to do if he does as he says?" she asked, her hands on her hips. 

​

"We will have no choice but to oppose him. Our armies must march forward to defend Vale," Rouge replied. 

"But Mount Glenn isn't exactly Vale, not anymore at least," Mazarin pointed out. "There will be questions, my lord. They will ask why we are mobilizing the army to oppose what looks to be a positive." 

"They will see sense and defend Vale at all costs," Rouge growled. "This Kingdom will not suffer foreign boots ever again." 

​Mazarin paused. She looked conflicted. Rouge glanced up. "You have another question." He stated. 

​"Did you....did you really order the closing of the tunnels?" Mazarin asked quietly. 

Rouge nodded. "I did, Musketeer. The cowards at the Council could not say it so I ordered it. It was to defend Vale, our home. No price is too high for the protection of this Kingdom." 

"I...I see," Mazarin said, looking away for a brief second. Then back to him, looking nonplussed as ever. "Do you have orders for Mister Wayland, my lord?" 

"Follow him. See what he does then report back to me," Rouge ordered. 

"I will organize it, my lord," Mazarin offered. Rouge shook his head. 

"No," he said simply. 

"I want you to do it yourself." 

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A/N: Plot happens. 

Next up, Emerald shenanigans.