Save the world? Fuck that, I want to make money! (RWBY SI) ch 19 (Patreon)

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The room was sterile white. While it was sufficiently decorated, it was clean and bereft of any color or life, much like the man seated behind the clear glass window that separated him from freedom and bondage.

​Councillor Geyer, Yeaman, and General Ironwood all voted to have him arrested. The other two were powerless to stop it. Instead of running away, he had given himself easily. Winter did not know why her father did not flee but she figured he was that suicidal enough to think he could still come out of the affair unscathed.

She walked in, escorted by a single guard. She nodded her thanks to him and was thus left alone to speak with the man she called her father.

Jacuqes noted her walk in, and his eyes ran through her cadet's uniform. "It suits you, somehow." He began.

"I made my intention clear to General Ironwood as soon as we came back. Strings were pulled and here I am. Special dispensation as I had assisted in the mine rescue," Winter replied. While she had been boosted significantly, it did not mean Winter was going to rest on her laurels. She was going to prove that she was more than worthy of wearing the uniform and not just because she got into Ironwood's good graces.

"I see," Jacques noted neutrally, he was neither impressed nor disapproving. Winter resisted the urge to frown at that.

"Weiss is the Heiress now, then?" Jacques asked.

Winter nodded. "She is. For the meantime, mother has been given control of the SDC until the council decides what to do about it. In a week, a vote will be held whether or not it will be broken up."

​She noted with interest as his nostrils flared up before finally, he calmed himself. "And so, Atlas tears apart my life's work before me because it is too inconvenient for them to have it now."

Winter's temper flared. She took a step forward, snarling. "Your life's work? Your life's work makes me puke! That is not yours, Jacques Gele! That is my grandfather's!"

She could not believe how such a man would call the Schnee Dust Company his work when it wasn't his to begin with. Jacques however continue to look at her dispassionately, ignoring even her jab at his name.

"You say that now, Winter, but nothing was done to stop me before the mine blast. Do you know why?" he suddenly asked. The tone he used gave Winter pause. Instead of waiting for her reply, he began to speak.

"When the Great War was over, our whole society was turned from top to bottom. As the nobility fell, people like your grandfather rose to take their place," Jacques began to narrate. "It was understandable when he was so likeable. Noble, honest. However, these qualities do not generate what Atlas needed at that time: income."

He took a step-forward. "That was why your grandfather gave the reins of the company to me. To run out, to maximize profit. And until recently, I was generating not just our Board of Directors their incomes but Atlas as well. Dust revenue fuelled our Kingdom, Winter. Who do you think pays and fuels our Navy? Our army? Your precious General Ironwood?"

His eyes flashed coldly. "That was why nothing was done to stop me. I did not make those choices because I wanted them to suffer. I made them because it fed Atlas. They just make a fuss about it now because the sin of their apathy is laid bare. Do you think that they would rouse the rabble if this did not happen?"

His voice was not mocking, it wasn't gloating. Merely neutral, like that of a bureaucrat.

"I did my job, as was asked of me. They did not mind my actions because it paid them handsomely."

Winter couldn't help but feel sick and dizzy, like she was forced to sit through a monstrous roller-coaster that did not stop. There was another thing too, a feeling that would not halt or falter.

Disgust.

"Why couldn't you have been decent? Royal and Imperial could do it? Why couldn't you? Why treat the faunus so poorly?" Winter asked, her hand balled into a fist.

Jacques eyes narrowed, particularly at the mention of the Waylands. Still, he explained himself patiently. "As I said, I was asked to make money so I did. And why should I pay the faunus extra when they come so cheaply? Winter, the vast supply of labour does not justify giving them anymore than they need. You know how the market works. The more there is, the less it costs."

So this was it. The bottom line. Winter thought.

She shook her head.

"No matter what happens, I will make sure that Weiss will never, ever, be like you," Winter hissed, glaring at her father.

"As you say, Winter." Jacques said dismissively. "Perhaps its a good thing that Atlas will bust the SDC. Your mother would never be strong enough to maintain it as it is now."

"Mother is stronger than you think!" WInter snarled. But her proclamation was half-hearted. She knew what her mother was like.

​Jacques sensed her hesitation and smiled slightly. "Even you do not believe that. If she was so strong, Winter, then why did your grandfather hand control of the company to me instead to her, his own daughter?"

Winter did not know how to reply.

Instead, she took a breath then sighed. "She is the interim CEO now. She may have her...issues but she will run the company for the meantime until Weiss comes of age."

Her eyes blazoned brightly. "And I will make sure that she will be far better than you ever will be."

"As you say, Cadet," Jacques scoffed before he turned to sit on the lone chair of his cell. "Leave me, I have reading to do."

Unrepentant, utterly convinced of himself. There was no soul in him. She knew that already. But a frank and guiltless admission...

"Goodbye, father," Winter managed to choke out before she turned on her heels and left him to his fate. The door closed behind her, the last time she would ever see him. Outside, the guard saw her face and wisely made no mention of it other than offering her a sympathetic nod. Winter's legs were automatic as it took her out into the hallway. Suddenly, she felt the need to head into the bathroom and found one. Leaning against the sink, she glanced at her own reflection. 

Her eyes were red. 

And thus, it began to flow. Tears were shed for the man that was once her father. Tears, for the family left behind. She did not cry like a banshee, that was below her station. It was a mournful one, soft and pitiful. She let it all flow out of here until finally, there were no more tears left to shed. Winter felt slightly better now that the damn had burst but the pit in her stomach did not leave her. She turned on the sink, splattering water on her face to get herself out of it. 

​Winter sighed.

Her father would never change nor would he say sorry, utterly convinced of his righteousness. It was disturbing to see him so unaffected despite the pain and horror he had caused to the faunus, to his own family as well. He was much like ice, cold and unpleasant to the touch. If he wasn't going to repent, so be it. Winter had to admit that it was tempting to get eaten up by the despair she was feeling but no, her sister needed her. Her mother needed her. Her little brother needed her. For them, she had to be strong. 

Still, it did not stop her from feeling like butter being scraped on too much butter.

​Gods, she needed a distraction. 

But what to do?

​She had already finished most of her work and assignments, there was free time for her to consume. It was then Winter realized that beyond training or working, she didn't really have hobbies to occupy herself with. Well, there was reading to do but she didn't feel like sitting down and read.

​Most...girls her age had friends. But a quick cursory glance to her scroll revealed a near empty contacts list. 

Well...there was one.

She clicked on his name.

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The cafe was small, homely, and warm. The air was thick with the scent of coffee and chocolate, of cookies and pastries. The decor, it reminded Winter of some wonderful cabin deep in the outskirts of Solitas. And as she glanced at the steaming mug of mocha coffee on her table, the more it dawned on Winter that she had no idea what to do should Alexander come.

Sure, he had said he would go to meet her. Sure, they had agreed to meet at a coffee shop Winter had spotted but...what were they supposed to do afterwards? Gods, why the hell did she even invite him? He was probably busy, what with the whole restructuring thing going on in Royal and Imperial...

The door opened, its bells ringing someone's arrival. Winter quickly glanced up and regretted it quickly as a familiar white haired and red eyed man entered. He glanced around, taking in the sight of the cafe before finally, his face settled on her direction. And just as he saw her, his face went from quiet disinterest to an open and sunny smile. 

It was a interesting smile, Winter thought as she brought up her mug of mocha coffee to her lips. She watched as Alexander made his way to her but halted as the cafe patrons saw him walk up. Soon, he was swarmed by a small crowd wanting to take a picture with him. He met them gracefully, giving them all what they wanted with tender gentleness before he finally made his way to her. 

"Is this seat taken?" he asked. Winter shook her head and motioned for him to sit. He did so, to her snickering.

"Someone's famous," she noted. He rolled his eyes.

"Not by choice. Royal and Imperial's a household name now. When I left the Foundry, General Ironwood was talking with my father about a grocery list of items he wanted for Atlas," Alexander revealed before briefly smiling to a waiter coming up to him. He made his request and the waiter walked off with particular flair. 

"A grocery list?" Winter asked, raising her eyebrow. 

He nodded. "Oh yes. The scale of it is impressive, I have to admit. It's a bit too much for out current capabilities to handle so we are thinking about expanding. Aeronautics, more heavy industry, the works," he shrugged. He smiled to the waiter who arrived with a steaming mug of coffee. Winter peeked at it.

"Pure black?" 

He nodded, sipping at it. "Mhm. I either take this or mocha coffee. It usually depends on what I need to do. Pure black means I need to stay awake," Alexander smiled.

Pure black or mocha. Winter would remember those details. She halted however, noting that he needed to wake up. "What for? Are you going to be busy later?" 

He laughed. "No, Schnee. I need to stay awake so that I can focus my energy on you." 

Ah.

Her cheeks burned a little at that. Clearing her throat, Winter shifted on her seat. "And pray tell, what makes you think we'll be doing that you need such...energy?"

​"I presume you called me here because you wanted to hang out. And that is why I am here, to hang out," He explained with a snort. 

​And like that, they were out into the street. 

Winter did not just choose that one particular cafe because of its decor. The cafe was located in one of the few districts in Atlas that still kept its traditional architecture. The Old District, so called for its wide streets, wood and brick buildings, and with so little discernible technology. It was a striking sight, compared to the tall grey spires in the distance. She had always wanted to visit this area for its soul but her time as the Heiress didn't really allow her much freedom. 

And so, they walked together, not hand in hand of course. That would be scandalous and they were merely good friends. 

The streets were lively, despite the snow. Tall iron lanterns lit the cobble-stone street. The street was full, many stalls selling anything and everything from trinkets, to beer, and to street-food. Her father would have never allowed he to partake in such plebian fare, as he would have put it, but he was behind bars now and she was freer. 

​It was still ironic to Winter that she had more breathing room in the military than in her own home.

"Bread? Really?" Alexander chuckled as Winter stepped into a queue of people before a bread-peddler. Despite the snow, her nostrils took in the scent of rye, wheat, oats, and the delights of Atlesian baking cuisine. 

"We've always been famous for our bread, Alexander," Winter rolled her eyes. "The Valeans may claim that their baguettes are the peak of cuisine but no, they are wrong. They make good pastries, I admit, but bread?" 

She shook her head. And with excitement in her eyes, she stepped up the line. Her eyes glanced at the selection present. And not a second later, she was a happy woman carrying a bag of warm bread. She beamed at Alexander who chuckled again as he glanced at another stall. 

"Sausages for me, then."

And so, they walked off with their loot. Her with her bread as well as some jams from another stall while Alexander carried his own bag of smoked sausages. They found a table to sit at and feast. It was a bunch of tables near a fountain, nothing too special for her to note. There was a crowd gathered before a singer and her band, traditional tunes as expected from such a local place. Some were dancing to her singing, a tender dance to a tender song. 

Alexander snickered as Winter munched on her loot, her eyes widening from the bread mixed with jams. "Good?" 

She nodded, her mouth savouring the taste of warm bread. Truly, Atlesian cooking was the best in the whole world. She swallowed, noting Alexander feast on his meal of sausages that smelt faintly of curry. "Care for a trade?" she asked, glancing at him munching on his currywurst. 

He nodded, taking a toothpick and sticking it into a cut sausage. He then held it out for her to munch on. 

She nodded at the flavorful explosion, munching on it with determination. She ignored the way her tongue felt like it was on fire. 

"Alright there?" he snickered again. 

"M-mhm!" Winter asserted valiantly before she reached for a bottle of water and drank it all in one go. 

"How weak are you, to not handle spice?" Alexander chuckled. Winter wiped away at her lips, glaring at him. 

"I...how could you?" 

"I'm just built different," he proclaimed. She rolled her eyes. 

"I think you're conceited and arrogant," she said. Despite her words, there was no heat to them.

"I know! That's why I'm so charming," he smiled. Winter chuckled at his naked self-aggrandizement. 

Now she knew why people did this and cherished them. She had only read about it in her books but to truly experience it with a boy no less. 

With a boy!

Weiss wouldn't believe her if she told her.

​Oh gods.

She was with a boy. 

A man, her mind corrected. 

​She stole a glance at Alexander, munching away on his sausages as he glanced at the dancing crowd. A thought went into her head. 

"Would...would you like to dance?" she asked. 

"Dance?" 

She looked away, refusing to look at him. "W-well, there is a crowd of dancers over there. It would be a waste to not participate, no?" 

A part of her wanted him to say no to such an embarrassing request but a part of her wanted him to accept too.

"I would love to, Winter," Alexander replied smoothly. 

​Inside, she would deny that her heart leapt at that to her dying day.

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A/N: Winter is delulu. 

This is a transition chapter to the next one.

Enjoy the sweet moment, slags. We are picking up with the next one.