Mystical Fantasy : The Lazy Real Young Master [EN]
Chapter 55 - 8.7 : Shattered Illusions

Chapter 55: Chapter 8.7 : Shattered Illusions

Miss Aiza tapped her finger on the glass table in front of her, her expression serious. That simple gesture was enough to silence everyone in the room.

Everyone—except Al, who yawned in the back, a smear of pudding still on his cheek from boredom. He’d completely tuned out of the exhausting conversation.

"Building and developing a mega project in five years? Of course, it’s possible," Miss Aiza began, her tone calm but firm. "But... is that realistic using only local manpower?"

Darius tried to interject, but Aiza continued without pause.

"The human resource potential in Indorosia, especially in the eastern region, is still far too risky for a futuristic international-scale project. We all know that compared to the western part of Indorosia, the east is far behind in terms of education, technology, and experience. You want to develop something this massive using only local workers—like your proposal states—to ’create jobs’? To me, that sounds more like exploitation."

Al nodded quietly behind her.

"You’re asking me to fund ten untrained workers to do something one trained professional could accomplish more efficiently. Wouldn’t it be better to hire five foreign specialists instead? That would cost less, and the results would be significantly higher in quality. Or perhaps this is part of your plan—to play with our investment money?"

She locked eyes with Darius. He looked down slightly, as though his body itself urged him to stay silent before the towering presence across the table.

"If this were a fishing or mining operation, I wouldn’t say much. In those cases, even amateurs can be useful. But for a project aimed at the future? That’s far too dangerous," Miss Aiza continued.

She leaned back in her seat and pressed on.

"And one more thing—are the people of Eastern Indorosia even ready for a futuristic lifestyle in the next five or ten years?"

Aurielle nodded slowly, impressed by the visionary perspective Aiza had raised.

"Most of them still live in poverty, relying on traditional ways of life—or at the very least, they’re far behind compared to outsiders. Even when compared to Western Indorosia, they’re decades behind. Rapid cultural shifts like this could destabilize society. Sure, some people may benefit—though that’s still uncertain. But the ones who can’t keep up? They’ll only fall further behind."

She clasped her fingers together, scanning the faces around the room with piercing focus. Her next words struck like a teacher lecturing business veterans who thought they knew better.

"I don’t want a glamorous, trillion-rupiah project to be destroyed by the unpreparedness of the people. Remember what happened in Hindya? They built a grand mall and tourist attraction, and on the very first day, it was trashed by the very community it was supposed to serve."

"In the end... who truly benefits from development like that?"

The room fell silent again.

"So in the end, what would I actually get from all this? Humiliation? Public criticism? Not just toward me, but also toward Alasia Group, since you plan to use our name as the face of this project?"

Miss Aiza shook her head slowly, clearly unimpressed by the immaturity of the proposal—and slightly offended by the way they’d approached her, as if she were some naive young girl easily swayed by luxury.

"I may be young... but I’m not some clueless child who can be lured in by glitter and popularity. So tell me—where exactly is this so-called ’positive image’ I’m supposed to gain from your plan?"

Darius was momentarily speechless. He looked toward Lefon, who remained quiet and withdrawn. Darius finally tried to switch tactics.

"It’s not like that, Miss Aiza," he said, his tone more composed now. "This tourism plan is primarily meant for elite guests and international travelers. We’ll revise the recruitment system, bring in foreign professionals for higher standards, and restructure the budget accordingly."

He smiled as if the issue had been neatly resolved.

But Aiza’s eyes were flat.

"Did you just make it worse?" she replied coldly. "The local people will be furious when they find out they’re being excluded from working—and even more furious when they’re denied access to enjoy tourism in their own land."

Darius’s smile faded. He wanted to pivot the conversation toward economic benefits for the people, but before he could say a word, Miss Aiza pressed on, cutting him off with impeccable timing.

"Sure, maybe the local economy will improve. Some people might open shops or mid-level businesses to sell to foreign tourists. But doesn’t that make them more like servants, not participants in their own homeland?"

The room fell quiet again. Darius had no words left.

Aurielle watched, a flicker of admiration in her eyes. She quickly pushed it down, a hint of envy forming.

What was I thinking before? she scolded herself.

Of course she’s this sharp. There’s no way she could run a company like Alasia if she couldn’t handle something as basic as this.

Seconds later, Darius let out a nervous laugh, trying to break the tension.

"Alright then... what if we set aside the tourism sector... and focus solely on fisheries? Surely, that benefits the locals, right?" he offered, though it sounded more like an escape than a genuine solution.

But Miss Aiza had lost her patience.

"Mr. Darius," she said sharply. "You seem to think I’m too young, and that you can freely throw absurd proposals my way. But honestly, you are the one acting like a child right now—changing, removing, and redirecting the topic as if none of this matters."

Her gaze pierced through him.

"If your plan wasn’t solid from the start, why force this meeting? Or... did you have other intentions from the beginning?"

Everyone at the table tensed. But Miss Aiza wasn’t done.

"And I think this next part will surprise you even more. About the fisheries proposal—it’s actually not bad. But I’m sorry. I can’t accept it either. Because—while I have no business ties—I do have a personal agreement with the owner of the Nipponian company that’s already entered the region. We’ve agreed not to interfere with each other’s moves, for reasons I can’t disclose."

She calmly closed the proposal packet in front of her.

"So I’m sorry, gentlemen. The two things you’ve offered me today—I must decline."

Darius’s face turned pale. Her words struck like a hammer. All his grand plans now seemed utterly useless.

Flashback.

In a private luxury room, Darius had once spoken confidently to Lefon Tamarvich.

"This proposal is too good for Miss Aiza to reject. She’ll take it, no doubt. The amount we’re asking is pocket change for Alasia Group," he said smugly. "Besides, she’s young. An elite woman. Who wouldn’t want glamour and international fame? Hah!" He chuckled. "With this, we can use Alasia’s name, access their funding, and I’ll crush the Nipponia firm in one move."

Lefon had smiled and nodded, though inwardly, he didn’t fully agree. His position as a partner through the Alasia Foundation in managing HIHS meant he had to tread carefully. Reckless moves could destroy the fragile relationship they had built.

Back to the meeting room.

Darius suddenly stood, slamming the table. The loud noise shocked everyone present. Frustration and rage mixed on his face.

No. My project can’t fail!

If this collapses, Nipponia will take the entire eastern fishery market! My family... Argh! This is a disaster!

His voice rose.

"What’s so hard about investing in us?! Why do locals matter?! We are elites! The world is meant for people like us—those who are strong, powerful, and born to lead!"

Aurielle finally snapped.

"Mr. Norvalien. That’s enough," she said coldly.

"So this is your true face," Miss Aiza said, her voice like ice.

Darius ignored them. He leaned forward, getting uncomfortably close to Aiza, his behavior causing visible discomfort around the room.

Even Al’s eyes narrowed—displeased with Darius’s proximity. But instead of reacting rashly, he quietly charged a bit of magical energy into his fingertip and discreetly flicked it toward Darius.

Darius staggered slightly, unaware of what hit him. But his frustration drowned out any suspicion.

"Miss Aiza... you’re still young. You don’t understand how this world works. Business is about profit. Locals? They don’t matter. Just leave it to us. Sit back, and enjoy the luxury and fame..."

But he’d already crossed the line.

Both of Miss Aiza’s assistants moved. One pulled Darius back, while the other signaled. Instantly, two bodyguards stepped forward and escorted him out of the room.

Lefon stood as well, face awkward, bowing slightly in apology before following.

Darius’s voice still echoed from the corridor.

"Miss Aiza! Don’t be stupid! This is a great project! It’s for elites like us! Miss Aizaaa—!"

Miss Aiza just shook her head.

"Good job."

Al’s voice echoed in her mind through telepathy.

She glanced his way and looked down slightly, her cheeks blushing softly.

"Thank you, Master."

---

In the parking lot...

Darius was furious.

"Damn it! I thought she’d be easy to manipulate. Damn it! Where else can I find a backer like her?"

He kicked the tire of his car as it arrived. Then turned to Lefon, red-eyed.

"You. Why didn’t you help me, Lefon?!"

Lefon shook his head.

"You know my position. Let it go. We can’t make a scene here. Everyone’s watching. Remember our image."

That snapped Darius back to his senses. He angrily opened the car door—then paused.

His chest began to burn.

He coughed—and a thick, blackish blood spilled from his mouth.

Shock hit him. Then he collapsed.

"Darius?! What’s happening?! Darius!" Lefon shouted in panic.

He rushed to carry Darius into the car and sped off to the hospital.

Meanwhile, back in the restaurant, Al sat at the table, peacefully enjoying his dessert.

Success.

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