Chapter 35 – Capital Required

  After Lucien and Dorian left the press, Gareth immediately headed back into the small office, closing the door halfway behind him. He sat down heavily, opened his wristlink, and began pulling up every relevant document he could find.

  Loan papers, machinery assessments, asset and liability sheets, bank-verified evaluations, old renewal forms. The entire list of what the bank had looked at when processing their loans.

  One by one, Gareth checked each file, making sure nothing was missing. Whenever he spotted an outdated scan or incomplete folder, he corrected it, reorganized it, or merged it into the main bundle he was preparing for Lucien and Dorian.

  He didn’t want to delay it.

  Outside the office, the steady thrum of machines continued. Theo poked his head in once, but Gareth waved him off.

  “Keep working the line,” he said without looking up. “I’ll handle this. They will find it easy if everything is in order.”

  “Right,” Theo answered, already turning back toward the press floor.

  While his son worked the machines, Gareth kept filtering through document after document, attaching files, labelling them clearly, and preparing the full package so Lucien and Dorian would receive a clean, organized view of the press’s situation.

  Only after checking the final folder did he pause, exhale, and prepare the files for transfer.

  He wanted them to have a clear overall picture—no gaps, no missing records, nothing hidden.

  Just the truth, sent as quickly as possible.

  The café was loud with evening chatter, warm lights reflecting off half-empty cups and scattered notebooks. Dorian sat with the others waiting for Lucien to finish his talk with his parents about the press.

  Dorian’s wristlink vibrated once.

  He glanced down.

  Incoming Files: Rendon’s Press.

  Multiple folders streamed in one after another—loans, liabilities, assessed assets, collateral land documents, machinery condition reports, tax ledgers, vendor histories. Everything Gareth had prepared.

  Dorian’s expression sharpened immediately.

  Kaelen noticed. “Work?”

  “Yes,” Dorian said shortly, already closing the display and getting to his feet.

  Riven frowned. “Now? It’s late, man, sit for a bit—”

  “Can’t.” Dorian tightened his coat, already stepping away from the table. “I’ve got everything I need, and this can’t wait. Tell Lucien I’ll send him my notes later.”

  Seliora lifted a brow. “At least finish your drink—”

  But he was already moving toward the door.

  “I’ll handle it,” he said over his shoulder. “See you all later.”

  The bell over the café door chimed as he slipped outside before any of them could object, his steps quick and disappearing into the night as the files continued syncing on his wristlink.

  The next morning, café was still quiet, sunlight just beginning to slip through the front windows. Chairs were neatly stacked, the ovens warming, and the soft smell of fresh dough drifted from the kitchen. It was the rare moment of peace before Marilon woke up.

  Lucien stood behind the counter with two steaming cups of coffee and a small breakfast plate—fresh bread, a soft-boiled egg, and a bit of fruit. He’d prepared it the moment he saw Dorian’s message at dawn:

  “Coming over early. Finished going through everything.”

  So, Lucien waited.

  A few minutes later, the door opened with a soft chime.

  Dorian stepped inside, looking tired, coat slightly wrinkled from a night spent working instead of sleeping.

  Lucien offered a small smile. “Morning, Coffee’s fresh.”

  Dorian exhaled as he approached the counter. “You read my mind.”

  “No,” Lucien said lightly, “just your habits.”

  He slid the cup toward him.

  Dorian took it immediately, closing his eyes after the first sip. “Saints, I needed that.”

  Lucien placed the breakfast plate on the counter. “Eat while we talk. You look like you went through a war.”

  “It felt like one,” Dorian muttered, pulling up the files he’d organized through the night.

  “But I went through everything Gareth sent.”

  Lucien’s expression turned serious. “And?”

  Dorian set the coffee down, tapping his wristlink so the data projected faintly between them.

  “I’ll explain everything,” he said quietly. “We need to walk through it together before it gets too busy.”

  Lucien nodded. “Good. Let’s go to the back. We’ll have time before the morning crowd.”

  Dorian picked up his coffee and plate, and followed Lucien toward the back office.

  Lucien closed the office door behind them, the muted hum of the ovens fading. Dorian set the coffee down, projected the files in front of them with a flick of his wristlink, and leaned forward.

  “Alright,” Dorian began, his voice steady but heavy, “I’m going to walk you through everything Gareth sent. It’s… not pretty.”

  Lucien nodded silently.

  Dorian enlarged the first panel. “Let’s start with what they have. Their assets.”

  Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

  He pointed to the holographic numbers.

  “First—the machines. Six units, all outdated. The bank’s last valuation puts them at about 6,000 crowns total. And honestly? That’s generous. Two of them are barely running.”

  Lucien winced faintly. “Gareth told me they’ve been patching them for years.”

  “Exactly,” Dorian said. “Next—the building. Old structure, old wiring, no upgrades. Market value is around 15,000. That’s the land value doing most of the lifting, not the building itself.”

  He swiped to the next figure.

  “The land behind the press—medium plot, but clean title. Valued at 10,000 crowns.”

  Lucien raised a brow. “More than I expected.”

  “Because land in Marilon never truly drops,” Dorian said. “Even if the building collapses, the land still holds worth.”

  Another swipe.

  “Inventory—ink, paper reels, spare parts, some packaging materials. About 1,000 crowns in total.”

  Lucien let out a slow breath. “So, all together…”

  “Thirty-two thousand crowns,” Dorian said. “That’s everything they own, every scrap that can be counted.”

  Lucien leaned back, brows drawn. “And the liabilities?”

  Dorian didn’t even swipe—he had the numbers memorized.

  “They owe a lot.”

  He projected the next section.

  “First—the big one. Their primary bank loan: 75,000 crowns still outstanding.”

  Lucien’s eyes hardened. “That alone is more than double their assets.”

  “Oh, I’m not done,” Dorian said quietly. He pointed to the next part.

  “Supplier debts: 20,000 crowns. These are overdue payments for ink, paper, binding materials… some of these vendors haven’t been paid in months.”

  Lucien rubbed his jaw. “So even their day-to-day operations are functioning on borrowed goodwill.”

  “Exactly.” Another swipe.

  “Equipment arrears —25,000 crowns. Basically, unpaid repairs and replacement parts stacked over years, the vendor fronted the cost at the time, and Rendon’s been paying it off in instalments… very slowly. At this point, most of what they owe is penalties and accumulated service charges.”

  “And taxes?” Lucien asked, though his tone suggested he already feared the answer.

  Dorian sighed. “Tax arrears are 12,000 crowns. Unpaid city dues, file penalties, late fees.”

  Lucien went silent.

  Dorian let the numbers hover between them, cold and unforgiving.

  “Total liabilities,” he said, “come to 132,000 crowns.”

  Lucien exhaled slowly. “And assets are only 32,000.”

  Dorian nodded once. “Which puts their net position at negative 100,000 crowns.”

  The room felt smaller suddenly.

  Lucien rested his elbows on the table fingers pressed to his lips.

  Dorian leaned back, giving him a moment. “This is why Gareth sent everything so quickly. They’re underwater. Completely. If they lose you… that’s it. They close.”

  Lucien stayed quiet, absorbing the weight of the numbers.

  Dorian finished reviewing the liabilities, letting the projection fade as he sipped his now-cool coffee.

  Lucien leaned back in his chair, rubbing his forehead. “There’s something else I should mention… Sales are slowing down now. After the university-wide push, the big spike is tapering.”

  Dorian shrugged lightly. “That’s expected, Lucien. Honestly? You were lucky it lasted this long. You can’t rely on a constant surge. By now, everyone who wanted to buy the book early in university has already done it.”

  Lucien nodded. “I know. I’m not disappointed.”

  He pulled up his own sales dashboard.

  “So far, digital sales are sitting at 15,000 copies. Physical copies around 5,000.”

  Dorian raised a brow. “Still impressive numbers.”

  Lucien continued, “For digital, we set the price at 2 crowns. Inkspire takes no commission, so we only pay the processing fee—0.05 crowns per sale.”

  Dorian blinked. “Only that per payment? That’s practically charity.”

  Lucien laughed softly. “I know. So, from 15,000 digital copies, that’s 30,000 crowns gross. Processing fees total 750 crowns. Which means we keep 29,250 crowns.”

  Dorian let out a low whistle. “If Inkspire ever decides to take a commission, your earnings would be cut in half. I still don’t understand how they’re staying afloat.”

  Lucien nodded slowly, thoughtful. “Some threads on Inkspire were saying the same thing… that the platform’s struggling. Ads and small sponsorships aren’t enough to maintain the servers and staff.”

  “Well, yes,” Dorian said, leaning back. “Free platforms burn cash fast. They’ll need new revenue streams eventually. But until then—you got an incredibly good deal.”

  Lucien exhaled, grateful. “Yeah… Digital saved us.”

  “What about the liquid cash?” Dorian asked. “How much do you currently have?”

  “Well… from the 30,000 digital revenue, I used 10,000 crowns immediately to clear my family’s debt.” Lucien’s replied.

  Dorian nodded approvingly. “It was the right move.”

  “Then the remaining 20,000 went straight into producing physical copies,” Lucien continued. “Printing is capital-heavy, so I’m down to about 5,000 crowns in free cash now.”

  “That sounds about right,” Dorian said. “Physical copies are a long-term play. Slow, steady income.”

  Lucien nodded. “We sold 5,000 physical copies at 5 crowns each, but my margin is… only 1 crown per book.”

  Dorian snorted. “Of course it is. You self-published. If you’d gone through a traditional publisher, you’d be getting maybe 30 to 50 shards per copy.”

  He tapped a few figures into the projection, and the breakdown unfolded softly in the air.

  “Look,” he said, pointing at the first segment, “physical books are expensive because every part of the process takes a bite. Printing is the first monster. The moment you give a printer your manuscript, they’ll calculate materials, ink usage, paper quality, binding, and labor. All of that adds up to roughly a quarter of the selling price. For a five-crown book, that’s about 1.25 crowns gone immediately.”

  He drew a line across the projection with his finger.

  “Then you have retailers. Shops, stalls, book distributors — they all take their cut just for putting your book on a shelf. They don’t care how talented you are, they care how much space you take and how fast your stock moves. Their margin is also around 25%, so that’s another 1.25 crowns leaving your pocket.”

  Lucien nodded, following the flow.

  “And after that,” Dorian continued, “we get to logistics. People forget how expensive it is to move physical goods. Storage fees, packaging, bulk transport, inventory checks, damage losses — all of it counts. For a lightweight item like a book, that’s usually 20% of the price, which is roughly 1 crown.”

  Lucien let out a quiet breath. “So even before the reader gets the book, nearly four crowns are gone.”

  “Exactly.” Dorian flicked the projection again, revealing the last slice. “And then there are miscellaneous expenses. Things that don’t sound big individually, but add up quickly. Return fees for unsold copies. Administrative costs. Display rental in some cities. Seasonal promotional cuts. All of that typically lands at around 10%, which is another half crown.”

  He let his hand fall, the projection shimmering softly.

  “So, when you put it all together,” he concluded, “your five-crown book leaves you with a profit of about one crown. That’s normal. In fact, some self-publishers end up with less.”

  He spread his hands.

  “That leaves 1 crown profit for you. Completely normal. Physical books only make money in bulk over time. Digital is where the real margin lives.”

  Lucien leaned back, absorbing it. “Digital is so clean by comparison. It feels almost unfair.”

  Dorian laughed. “It is unfair. Digital is pure margin because it’s just a file. No trucks, no boxes, no paper, no inventory risk. Physical books have romantic charm — and terrible economics.”

  Lucien nodded, appreciating the breakdown. “So, after clearing the 10,000 family debt, the remaining 20,000 went into physical stock. Which leaves me with only about 5,000 crowns liquid.”

  He exhaled slowly. “So now… we need to take the loan for 100,000 crowns.”

  Dorian nodded without hesitation. “Yes. And not just for the acquisition. We also need to start thinking ahead — book distribution outside Marilon.”

  Lucien rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I know. If we want the book to reach other cities in Calvessan, we can’t handle distribution ourselves. Not yet. I think the best approach is to connect with local printing presses in other cities. Let them print batches there instead of us shipping from Marilon.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Dorian agreed. “Self-distribution within Marilon alone nearly strangled us. We learned the hard way — delivering crates, dealing with retailers, managing stock levels, returns, damages… It’s simply too much for one café basement operation.”

  Lucien gave a tired laugh. “When I first imagined publishing, I thought it was just writing the book and selling copies. Simple, clean.” He shook his head. “Reality slapped me hard. Distribution is a beast.”

  “Of course it is,” Dorian said. “Even big publishers struggle with it. And we’ve already tasted how difficult it is just within a single city. Expanding to multiple cities without local partners would crush us.”

  Lucien nodded firmly. “Then we’ll go through it slowly. Build experience. Find trustworthy partners. Learn the system instead of rushing into it.”

  Dorian leaned back, satisfied. “Exactly. Step by step. The story is good, the sales are strong, and your name is rising — but infrastructure takes time.”

  “Agreed,” Lucien said. “And that’s why the loan is necessary. Without it, we can’t stabilize the press or prepare for expansion.”