CHAPTER 72: SUNFLOWER CAFÉ NEGOTIATIONS

Chapter 71 – Sunflower Café Negotiations

The bell above the café door chimed as I stepped inside.

Warmth wrapped around me immediately—the rich scent of roasted beans, fresh bread, and honey pastries. Sunflower Café wasn’t large, but its cozy design set it apart from the flashy chain cafés closer to the city’s plaza. Here, wood-panel walls were lined with sunlit windows, potted plants climbed along shelves, and the hum of soft lute music floated from a speaker enchanted with looping chords.

The place was alive with murmurs—students in Academy uniforms chatting over textbooks, mercenaries in light armor resting after hunts, even a couple of robed scholars hunched over rune diagrams.

I picked a booth tucked away at the back. The cushions were worn but comfortable, the oak table polished with age. From here, I had a perfect line of sight to both the entrance and the side window—a habit drilled into me after years of expecting plots.

The Loki Mask tingled faintly against my skin. I didn’t hide myself completely—just blurred the edges. Anyone who saw me would dismiss me as some young merchant’s son or a scholar’s assistant. Forgettable enough to avoid suspicion, memorable enough to explain why I was here.

I ordered a simple black coffee. The waitress, a cheerful woman in a sunflower-yellow apron, scribbled it down with a smile. "It’ll be right out, dear."

My Academic Watch buzzed softly. [ 11:55 AM ]

Right on time.

The door opened.

---

Three figures entered, immediately shifting the room’s air.

Denzo Smith walked in front—broad shouldered, graying hair tied back, his dark coat marked with scars of both battle and weather. His aura was steady, heavy, like a mountain. Even when suppressed, an A-rank hunter’s presence leaked like heat from a forge.

Beside him strode Suzi Weillse, tall and elegant in a black business suit, her dark hair braided neatly. A clipboard glowed faintly in her hand, runes recording every flick of her pen. Her gaze swept the room sharply, calculating risks with each blink.

Mike Pegu came last. Leaner, younger, but scars marred his knuckles and jawline, souvenirs from more fights than training halls. His B-rank aura burned hotter, more reckless, like a spark ready to ignite.

They didn’t belong in a café, but the other patrons instinctively leaned away, clearing space. Hunters recognized predators.

Their eyes found me.

Denzo slowed, his brows knitting. He had been expecting an older investor in fine clothes, not a teenager in Academy uniform, sipping coffee.

Still, he walked forward, every step deliberate.

"You’re... Michael?" His voice was gravelly, clipped.

I set my cup down and nodded. "Yes. Please, sit."

They hesitated only a second before sliding into the booth opposite. Denzo took the middle seat, Suzi beside him, Mike on the outside, arms crossed like a bodyguard.

The waitress reappeared with their drinks—one steaming tea, two black coffees. Denzo muttered thanks, his eyes never leaving me.

Finally, he leaned forward, clasping his hands.

"...You invested one hundred thousand Ren into our guild." His tone wasn’t questioning. It was accusing.

"Correct."

"Why?"

---

I met his gaze calmly. "Because I believe in your guild."

His brow arched. "...Believe?"

"Yes." I folded my hands neatly. "I’ve been following your work. The contracts you’ve taken, the ones bigger guilds refused because they weren’t ’profitable.’ You prioritize civilians. You take risks others avoid. That tells me something."

Suzi’s pen stilled. Her eyes narrowed. "With respect, Mr. Michael... liking our values doesn’t explain risking one hundred thousand Ren. That’s not pocket money. That’s recklessness."

Mike scoffed. "Or he’s playing games with daddy’s coin."

Denzo’s jaw tightened. "Quiet."

Mike grumbled, but shut up.

Denzo refocused on me, voice low. "Investors don’t come to us for charity. They want returns. So tell me straight, Michael. What do you really see in The Dawn?"

---

This was the moment. The forked road.

I could drop hints of the future, of the dungeon they would seize months from now, of the meteoric rise that would shock the Hunter Association.

But no. That wasn’t how you built trust.

Instead, I leaned forward, matching his intensity.

"I see growth," I said firmly. "Not because your numbers are good. Not because your rank is rising. But because you’re underestimated."

His eyes sharpened.

I continued. "Everyone laughs at your guild now. Says you’re circling bankruptcy. That’s fine. Because underestimated guilds are the most dangerous. No one sees them coming until it’s too late."

The words hung heavy.

Suzi tapped her pen once, thoughtful. Mike shifted uncomfortably.

Denzo didn’t move. He studied me like a hawk eyeing prey—measuring if I was bluffing or simply insane.

Finally, he muttered, "...You talk like an old man, kid."

I smiled faintly. "Maybe I just study different things."

---

The silence stretched until the waitress returned, placing sandwiches and pastries between us. The smell of butter and herbs broke the tension briefly.

Mike grabbed one immediately, biting hard like he needed to chew his doubts away. Suzi ignored the food entirely, scrolling through figures on her clipboard.

Denzo stirred his tea slowly, his voice finally breaking the quiet.

"Alright. Let’s assume you’re serious. What do you want in return?"

---

I didn’t hesitate. "Shares. A stake in The Dawn."

Suzi’s eyes snapped up. "How much?"

"Sixty percent."

The table went still.

Mike nearly spit his sandwich. "Sixty—?! That’s majority! You’d own us!"

Suzi slammed her pen down. "Impossible. That would put him above the Chairman on paper!"

Even Denzo frowned, for the first time visibly unsettled. "...That’s steep, Michael. Too steep. You’re asking me to hand the guild’s future to a student."

I raised my hand calmly. "On paper, yes. In practice? No. You’ll still command the guild. I don’t want to lead in the open. I want to stay behind the scenes. You’ll be the face. I’ll be the support."

Suzi blinked. "...Silent partner?"

"Exactly."

They exchanged glances.

Mike shook his head. "This is insane."

But Denzo... Denzo was thinking. His eyes softened slightly, not with trust, but with possibility.

---

I leaned in further, voice low, deliberate.

"I’m not here for quick returns. I’m here for long-term growth. If The Dawn falls, I fall with it. But if The Dawn rises..." I let the words hang, my smirk faint but sharp. "...we rise together."

Denzo’s lips twitched into something between a frown and a smile. "...Kid, you’re either a fool or a visionary."

"Then give me the chance to prove which."

---

Suzi finally sighed, rubbing her temple. "If this is real, we’ll need a mana contract. Binding. No lies, no loopholes."

"I accept."

Denzo grunted. "Tomorrow. At headquarters. We’ll write it."

Mike groaned. "Chairman, you can’t be serious—"

"I am." Denzo’s tone silenced him instantly.

Then the Chairman turned back to me. "...But sixty percent won’t work. That’s too much. I won’t put my people in a position where your whims could dissolve us overnight. Counter."

I nodded. "Then what are you willing to offer?"

Suzi tapped numbers on her tablet. "The Chairman holds 34%. Executives and senior hunters together hold 20%. Public funds—guild bonds and minor investors—hold 6%. That leaves 40% unclaimed since the last sell-off. That’s the ceiling."

I frowned. "Not enough. If I don’t hold sway, I can’t protect my stake if things go south."

"Protection comes from trust, not majority," Denzo said quietly.

The tension thickened again.

---

Negotiation time.

I sipped my coffee slowly, letting the bitter taste sharpen my thoughts.

"...Forty is too low. Sixty is too high. Let’s find the middle."

Denzo studied me carefully. "...What number?"

"Fifty."

Suzi shook her head instantly. "No."

"Forty-five, then."

Denzo tapped the table once. "...Closer."

"Forty-eight."

Suzi’s lips pressed thin.

Finally, Denzo extended his hand. "Forty-seven. Final. You’ll be our largest shareholder. But not majority. I remain Chairman with 28%. Suzi and Mike retain their shares. Public stays at 6%. Balance of power holds."

I paused. Forty-seven. Not the dominance I wanted, but enough to secure leverage. Enough to prove I wasn’t after a coup, but a partnership.

Slowly, I smiled and clasped his hand. "Deal."

His grip was firm, heavy with promise.

For the first time that day, Suzi’s lips curled into the faintest smile. Mike still scowled, but less than before.

Trust wasn’t earned in a single meeting. But this was the first brick laid.

---

As they rose to leave, Denzo paused at the door, glancing back.

"...Michael."

"Yes?"

"You’ve got guts. I respect that. Just remember—paper contracts are easy. Real loyalty is earned with blood."

I met his gaze. "Then I’ll bleed with you when the time comes."

His expression softened almost imperceptibly. Then he left, the bell above the door chiming behind him.

I leaned back, finishing the last of my coffee.

Forty-seven percent of The Dawn.

A gamble worth every Ren.

-----------------

The Dawn Guild headquarters sat on the far side of the Arcadia business district, tucked between taller guild buildings that dwarfed it with their polished marble and towering banners.

By contrast, The Dawn HQ looked modest—four stories of reinforced stone, its walls weathered with cracks, its guild emblem half-faded on the iron gates: a rising sun cresting a jagged horizon.

Most would have dismissed it as another struggling guild clinging to relevance. But to me... it was a gold mine waiting to erupt.

I adjusted the collar of my uniform jacket and stepped through the gates.

---

The courtyard was alive with activity. Hunters milled about—sparring in pairs, repairing equipment, laughing as they carried crates of supplies.

Yet the moment I walked in, conversations slowed.

Eyes tracked me—measured me.

"Is that... the investor?" one muttered.

"He’s just a kid," another scoffed.

A few chuckled under their breath. "Figures. Some rich brat playing at being a patron."

I ignored them, keeping my stride steady. Don’t falter. Don’t explain. Let their doubt ferment—it would make my proof sweeter.

Inside, the air shifted. The guild’s lobby was brighter, cleaner than its exterior hinted. A receptionist in a neat uniform bowed slightly. "Welcome. Chairman Denzo is expecting you. Right this way, sir."

Sir. That word made a few hunters lounging in the lobby snap their heads up. Their surprise was almost comical.

---

The meeting room was on the second floor. Large windows let sunlight spill across a long oak table, its surface scarred with decades of use.

Denzo Smith sat at the head, posture straight as an iron rod. Suzi Weillse was beside him, clipboard as always in hand. Mike leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes sharp with suspicion.

"You came," Denzo rumbled.

"I said I would."

I slid into the seat across from him.

Suzi adjusted her glasses, voice clipped. "Before we proceed—Mr. Michael, understand this clearly. A mana contract is binding. If you deceive us, if your intent isn’t as claimed, the backlash will cripple you."

"I understand," I said evenly.

Mike scoffed. "Kid’s gonna piss himself halfway through."

Denzo shot him a look, silencing him instantly.

---

Suzi set down a crystalline tablet, its surface glowing with etched runes. She placed a small bowl of silver ink and a ceremonial dagger beside it.

"The terms," she began, sliding me a parchment filled with script.

I read carefully:

Article 1: Michael Willson acquires 47% ownership of The Dawn Guild.

Article 2: Chairman Denzo Smith retains operational control.

Article 3: Michael Willson agrees to remain a silent partner; no direct interference in guild management without board consensus.

Article 4: Profits are distributed by percentage share.

Article 5: Michael Will have Veto Power in major guild meeting.

A mana bond ensures mutual honesty regarding the guild’s finances and future investment plans.

Clean. Fair. No hidden traps.

I nodded. "I accept."

Denzo leaned forward. "Then let’s bind it."

The dagger gleamed as I took it in hand. The blade wasn’t steel but crystal, humming faintly with runic charge. I pricked my thumb and let a bead of blood fall into the silver ink.

The runes flared violet, lines snaking across the table to the contract tablet.

Denzo followed, his weathered hands steady as he did the same. Then Suzi, then Mike each binding their mana and will to the pact.

The room grew heavy as the magic swelled.

Words formed in the air, glowing like fire:

"Bound by blood, sealed by mana, witnessed by oath. The contract holds until broken by death or dissolution."

A pulse of energy coursed through my chest, settling deep into my core. For a brief second, I saw faint chains linking me to Denzo, Suzi, and Mike—then fading into invisibility.

The deal was sealed.

Silence followed.

Then Denzo let out a long breath. "...It’s done."

Suzi recorded the confirmation, her pen flying across the glowing clipboard. Mike muttered something under his breath, but he didn’t argue further.

I leaned back slightly, allowing myself a sip of water. My hand tingled faintly from the mana backlash, but it was clean. No rejection. No foul play.

Denzo studied me quietly, then finally spoke.

"You didn’t flinch," he said. "Not once."

I met his gaze. "Would you have trusted me if I did?"

His lips twitched—just barely. "...Fair."

---

The waitress from earlier arrived, wheeling in a tray of coffee and bread rolls. Apparently, The Dawn treated contract sealings like small celebrations.

As the food was set out, the tension in the room eased.

Mike grabbed a roll, muttering, "Still don’t get it. Why here? Why us? If you’ve got that kind of coin, you could buy into a guild ten times our size."

I tore a piece of bread calmly. "Because ten times your size means ten times less freedom. I don’t invest to sit on the sidelines. I invest to grow something worth more than numbers."

Suzi tilted her head. "And you believe we can be that?"

"Yes."

Denzo leaned forward, his tone probing. "Then tell me, Michael—what’s your vision? For The Dawn."

---

I paused, letting their anticipation build.

"...Expansion," I said finally. "Not reckless, not suicidal. But targeted. You’re hunters. You save lives. But you’re also businessmen. You need income streams that aren’t at the mercy of contracts or noble patrons. Independence."

Suzi’s eyes narrowed in thought. "Sustainable revenue outside mercenary work..."

Denzo’s brows furrowed. "And where do you suggest we get that?"

I smirked faintly. "That’s for later discussions. For now, focus on proving you can survive this storm. Build a record strong enough that when the world laughs, you laugh back with results."

Mike scoffed. "Vague as hell."

But Denzo didn’t dismiss it. His eyes were sharper now—curious.

---

As the coffee cooled, our conversation shifted. From shares to guild morale, from contracts to training. I asked about their hunters, their recent raids, their failed contracts. They were candid surprisingly so.

Denzo spoke of lost comrades, of rival guilds cutting them out of city contracts. Suzi explained their debts, their shrinking investor base. Mike growled about nobles who hired them for dirty work only to underpay and smear their reputation.

I listened carefully, memorizing every word.

When the plates were empty and the sun dipped lower in the windows, Denzo finally stood.

"...Alright, Michael. I don’t know if you’re crazy or clever. But today, you’ve earned something important."

I raised a brow. "And that is?"

He extended his hand once more. "The beginning of trust."

I clasped it firmly.

Not victory yet. Not loyalty. But the seed had been planted.

And I knew better than anyone: seeds, with time, grew into forests.

---