INFINITY MONEY SYSTEM: Buying My Way to the Watchers' Legion

CHAPTER 9

The morning light filtering through Isabella's estate windows was cold and pale, much like its owner. Marco sat at an ornate wooden desk in the guest quarters that had become his temporary residence, staring at the document unrolled before him.

FORTRESS BLUEPRINT ACQUISITION TASK

Difficulty: A-Rank

Requirement: Obtain legitimate fortress blueprints within 7 days

Failure Consequence: Immediate expulsion from Watchers' Legion

Success Reward: 5,000 Luxury Points + Territory Expansion Unlock

He'd been staring at it for three hours.

The problem wasn't the task itself—it was the price. Marco accessed the system shop, scrolling through the blueprints category for the fifth time that morning.

Basic Fortress Blueprint (Wooden Palisade + Dirt Moat): 2,000 gold

Standard Fortress Blueprint (Stone Walls + Basic Defenses): 15,000 gold

Advanced Fortress Blueprint (Reinforced Stone + Magical Ward Foundation): 50,000 gold

Superior Fortress Blueprint (Multi-Layer Defense + Enchanted Battlements): 150,000 gold

Legendary Stormcaller Fortress Blueprint (Complete Aerial Defense + Mana Nexus Integration): 500,000 gold

His finger hovered over the cheapest option. Two thousand gold was nothing—pocket change. But the system notification from his earlier purchases echoed in his mind: "Luxury Points scale with the impressiveness of expenditure. Cheap purchases yield minimal returns."

If he bought the wooden palisade blueprint, Isabella would laugh in his face. Then she'd probably expel him anyway for "lack of ambition."

Marco leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. The system's mechanics were becoming clearer with each use. It didn't just reward spending—it rewarded conspicuous spending. Flaunting wealth. Making others feel the weight of his gold.

"A fortress worth one hundred thousand gold coins," he murmured, repeating his own boast from the selection ceremony.

The door creaked open.

"You're still awake?" Fiora slipped inside, her merchant's leathers dusted with morning dew. The street-smart girl he'd met at the auction house had proven surprisingly useful—her information network among the city's traders was already paying dividends. "I've been running errands since midnight, and you look worse than I feel."

"Flattering," Marco said dryly. "What did you find?"

Fiora dropped into the chair across from him, pulling a crumpled parchment from her satchel. "Three things. First, the Merchant Guild will process your noble registration by tomorrow. Lord Castellan's signature greased the wheels considerably."

"Good."

"Second, Santoro Family spies aren't just watching you anymore. They're actively recruiting local thugs. Dominic wants to make a statement—something public, something humiliating."

Marco's expression didn't change. "Expected. What's the third thing?"

Fiora's eyes gleamed with barely contained excitement. "The Stormcaller Blueprint you mentioned? The one from the auction's bonus offer? I found out why the anonymous sponsor was so eager to give it away."

She slid the parchment across the desk. Marco picked it up, scanning the handwritten notes.

"Stormcaller Fortress Blueprint—originally property of the Ironhold Dwarven Clan. Deemed 'unbuildable' by three separate engineering guilds. Estimated cost exceeds 2,000,000 gold. Requires materials not found in this kingdom. Previously purchased and abandoned by seven different noble houses."

Marco's eyebrows rose. "Unbuildable?"

"Unbuildable," Fiora confirmed. "The dwarves designed it as a theoretical exercise, not a practical construction. The mana requirements alone would drain a small nation's magical reserves. Everyone who's tried to build it has gone bankrupt halfway through."

"Then why would the sponsor offer it as a bonus?"

"Because it sounds impressive." Fiora shrugged. "Rich people love things that sound impressive. They never actually intend to use the blueprint—they just want to say they own it."

Marco set the parchment down slowly. A smile spread across his face.

"What's that expression?" Fiora leaned back warily. "I've seen merchants make that face right before they do something financially catastrophic."

"Fiora," Marco said, "how much would it cost to hire the Ironhold Dwarven Clan themselves? The original designers?"

The merchant girl's jaw dropped. "You're insane."

"Answer the question."

"They're not in this kingdom. They're in the Greypeak Mountains, three weeks' travel away. And they don't work for humans—not since the War of Stone Bridges, forty years ago. The dwarves closed their borders completely. No human has seen the inside of Ironhold since—"

"So I'd need to offer them something they can't refuse."

Fiora stared at him for a long moment. Then she laughed—a sharp, disbelieving sound. "You're actually going to try. You're going to attempt to build the unbuildable fortress with the help of the uncooperative dwarves."

"Is there another option?"

"The other option is buying the wooden palisade blueprint and pretending you didn't notice the difference."

Marco stood, rolling up the blueprint task document. "Lady Isabella didn't assign me an impossible task because she expected me to succeed. She assigned it because she wanted to watch me fail."

"Then why are you—"

"Because failing isn't in my budget."

The day's first legion meeting took place in Isabella's private war room—a circular chamber with enchanted maps covering every wall. Marco arrived to find Alessandro already there, standing awkwardly near the far corner, his tattered robes replaced with simple but clean apprentice's garments.

Isabella sat at the head of a massive oak table, her ice-blue eyes fixed on the doorway as if she'd been waiting. Envoy Marcus stood behind her left shoulder, his expression a careful mask of neutrality.

"You're late," Isabella said.

"The meeting was scheduled for sunrise. The sun rose fourteen minutes ago." Marco took a seat at the opposite end of the table, leaving a deliberate distance between them. "I'm exactly on time."

"On time is late when I'm waiting."

Alessandro winced visibly. Marcus cleared his throat.

Marco met Isabella's gaze without flinching. "I'll adjust my schedule accordingly, Lady Isabella. Now, shall we discuss the tasks you assigned?"

For a moment, something flickered in those cold eyes—annoyance at his lack of intimidation, perhaps, or grudging acknowledgment that he wasn't backing down. Then she nodded curtly.

"Marcus, report."

The envoy stepped forward, unfurling a scroll across the table. "Lady Isabella has completed her review of the legion's immediate needs. Three priority objectives have been identified." He pointed to the first item. "Objective one: secure a permanent base of operations. The academy has offered us temporary quarters, but we need our own fortress within six months."

"That's where I come in," Marco said.

"It's where your gold comes in," Isabella corrected. "Don't confuse wealth with worth."

Marcus continued quickly, sensing the rising tension. "Objective two: recruit additional members. Currently the legion consists of three people—Lady Isabella as Commander, Marco as Treasurer, and Alessandro as... provisional alchemist."

"Burden," Isabella muttered.

Alessandro's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

"Objective three," Marcus pressed on, "acquire sufficient combat resources for the expected threat level. Intelligence suggests the Santoro Family isn't the only enemy watching us. The King's intelligence network has taken notice of Lady Isabella's independent legion formation."

Isabella's expression darkened. "My father's political enemies are already circling. They see the Watchers' Legion as an extension of the Moretti Duchy—which means they see it as a target."

Marco absorbed this information silently. The political landscape was more treacherous than he'd anticipated. Wealth could buy soldiers and scrolls, but it couldn't buy loyalty—not the kind that mattered when kingdoms went to war.