Stella Sora

The company world has long looked down on the Trekkers as a whole. But as time changes, I believe this industry will once again become the next big thing. To win in the future Trekker boom, one must become a Trekker first. Entering an industry lightly without real hands-on experience is a sure way to lose everything. —An audio recording copy saved on someone's phone.

Education Philaen Academy – Business Trade – Graduated Graduated with excellent academic performance, GPA 4.5/5.0, recipient of four times school scholarships. Served in roles such as a student council officer. Grace Light Academy – Unfinished degree

Work Experience In the year 992, during gap ... was recruited into an internship position at United Harvest. That same year, due to outstanding performance, transitioned from intern to full-time employee, formally joining United Harvest. In 995, promoted to senior management.

Five-Year Investment Plan Currently considering investing in a Monolith-style fast-food restaurant. United Harvest's cafeteria food is truly awful.

Cover Letter As Boss, in addition to subordinates who carry out orders, you also need external alliances. You and I both need an ally. I believe our cooperation can be mutually beneficial to a great degree.

Chair Appreciation I hold everything in the office to very high standards, especially a comfortable desk chair. That being said, if it's not as comfortable as sitting on your lap, I won't accept it, you know?

We have followed Lady Firenze for many years. Her wish is our command. In our eyes, Lady Firenze's excellence goes far beyond what has been expressed here. However, since she is only willing to write this much, we shall defer to her own words. —Ruby & Sapphire Did you ask me to write an evaluation of this person expecting me to badmouth her? Because that's all I'm going to do. PS: The afternoon tea shop we frequent in the Silver District has changed its menu. Keep up the good work. —Nyx Fake. Totally fake. This has to be fake! How could someone that amazing possibly exist in this world? I don't believe it. I refuse to believe it, not even if you beat me to death, unless... Unless she can prove it to me by conjuring up money right here, right now, immediately! What? She's willing to give me a one-on-one investment consultation for free? I'm sorry, I—I really need that... Please! Enlighten me, Miss Firenze! —Iris

The CV is extremely accurate. Aside from that, there's not much more that can be said. That falls outside the scope of what the Trekker Association is meant to evaluate. —Willow

"... To become a successful person, the key lies in demanding strictness of oneself and mastering time. Only by holding oneself to machine-like precision and cutting down on daily rest can one squeeze out their full potential..." —Excerpt from the bestselling book, Secrets of Business Success, found on Firenze's desk. The title page bears a handwritten note from her: "This book may teach people how to become elite employees, but it does not necessarily teach them how to become leaders. The latter requires a clear mind, original insight, and an unyielding will. Tempering a person with pressure alone, without thinking about holistic growth, only forges metal that is sharp yet brittle..."

"Can I skip wearing this corset? It's squeezing me so hard I'm about to throw up." "Better not. Your violin teacher scolded you just yesterday." "Can I ditch her class too? Do I really have to go?" "Seriously, Firenze. Do you want that course certificate or not?" Learning aristocratic etiquette was a popular trend in the Gold District. Firenze didn't know when exactly this trend had begun, only that it had been en vogue for many years now. In Nova, nobility titles were just for self-aggrandizement. All the geezers in the United Harvest Senate called themselves nobles, each trying to trace their family trees back hundreds of years— Even when they had been nothing more than street vendors before they got into the Senate. Firenze didn't know whether her own family fell into that category, but if she wanted to move around in the Senate's social circle, these manners were something she had to learn. The shared consensus of a group of pretentious jerks was still a consensus. At first, Firenze didn't think this would be any trouble at all. The phrase "I can't" simply did not exist in her vocabulary. Then she was harshly reprimanded. "There is no aristocratic bearing in your playing! I will not let you pass my course!" What aristocratic bearing actually was, Firenze had no idea. If it came to emotion in performance, she certainly had it; as she played, she followed the music and recalled memories of running through the garden in her childhood. But this kind of feeling was clearly not what the teacher wanted. Perhaps considering the enormous tuition fee her family paid, the violin teacher softened her tone. "As a child of the nobility with a distinguished name, you were simply born different from those commonplace girls of the Ash District. Your value far exceeds theirs. So you must show correct bearing and let others know your exact value through the music." Value... Firenze let out a sigh. She understood how commodities were valued, but did people have price stickers, too? For parents, how should a child be priced? How should lovebirds price their other half? For a ruler, what price is their underlings? Or rather, how should she put a price on other people? From the dark, dilapidated Ash District to the resplendent Gold District, Firenze had walked through them all. From toddlers, youths, young adults, and the elderly to students, clerks, Trekkers, and managers, Firenze had seen them all. Different individuals held different understandings of "price," and most people won't even think of calculating the price of human life. Perhaps this was the difference between nobles and commoners? Firenze came to the realization: So-called aristocratic bearing meant treating everything in the world, including oneself, as a commodity, as goods that could be sold at any time. The world of nobles was woven from threads of interest and profit. The amount of the price did not matter; what mattered was that everything had a price tag. There was no loyalty that could not be bought, only prices one could not afford. By folding such feelings into her performance, she would meet the teacher's requirements, and she herself would become a noble. Thinking this, Firenze picked up her bow.

The performance at the noble etiquette curriculum graduation ceremony was the only time Firenze ever messed up. But it was also her favorite performance. Before that, Firenze, already fluent in "aristocratic bearing," had long won her teacher over. Her icy gaze and decisive tones swept past the teacher like an actuary running calculations. Although the final price was not entirely satisfactory, the teacher was ecstatic simply to be "priced" by a noble. Next, as long as Firenze could earn the approval of company elders at the graduation ceremony, the teacher's price would naturally rise as well. What the teacher failed to notice was that from that day on, Firenze never picked up the violin again. On stage during the graduation ceremony, Firenze was not wearing the required formal dress or corset, nor was she holding a violin. Dressed in a trench coat, she casually rested a cane across her shoulder, then lifted the bow in the posture of a performance. "Firenze, what are you doing? Where is your violin?" Her violin teacher's face twisted as she hissed low. Firenze smiled faintly. She set the bow lightly against the cane, and began her performance. "Mr. Obicci, the mercenaries you asked for have been arranged. One hundred seasoned veterans will arrive tomorrow." "Didn't expect you to be so efficient. This favor won't be easy to repay. You're ... a Feltro?" "I'm still continuing with my noble etiquette curriculum. I heard you'll also be attending the graduation ceremony?" "Hah! I get it. The tedious violin performance they ask for, right? Don't worry. Even if you saw wood on stage, I'll still give you high marks." "I got your photos back from those Scarlet Sights Witches. Be more careful next time, dear Giovanni." "Thank you so much. If photos of me dining with employees of the Grace Imperium had leaked, it would have been a real catastrophe." "Then, the graduation ceremony?" "Of course, of course. My wife is on the judging panel. I'll speak to her." "Firenze, you finally made it. What did Deepsea Finance say? If that loan can't be secured..." "I negotiated the interest down by half. The manager over there also needed to meet their lending quota." "I... I don't even know how to thank you. You really are a lifesaver." "No thanks necessary, Lady Virginia. Just doing my duty. Please remember to attend my graduation ceremony." Skill in performance is honed in everyday practice. The same is true for putting a price tag on others. The ceremony hall was silent. A bow and a cane could not possibly produce elegant music. Yet the judges put on an air of focus, as though they were mesmerized by a beautiful melody. Firenze bowed gracefully. The judges responded with enthusiastic applause, and even the audience joined in clapping. To those who did not understand what was happening, Firenze had probably staged some kind of avant-garde mime. She was so elegant, and the noble judges were surely professionals; if one heard nothing, it must simply be a lack of appreciation. Above all, everything nobles did was right. After today, cane sales in Philae City would probably be way up for a while. Firenze's teacher handed her the certificate of attendance. She casually slipped it into her pocket and walked out of the hall. In her own way, she had completed her own valuing process. She had determined the price of everyone present, yet no one could see through her own. Firenze did not dislike the way this circle played its game, hypocritical as it may be. Because no matter what the rules were, she would always master them and emerge victorious.

Generally speaking, every young noble equips themselves with a weapon of refined elegance. It serves as a symbol of status and position. All it needs is tasteful design and dazzling appearance; it does not need to be put into practice. After all, in this day and age, there are tons of mercenaries who do dirty work for hire and packs of Trekkers who live rough on the road in need of commission fees. Why would a well-dressed, wealthy person still fight with weapons? Dorra can buy you anything. When fighting is required, all it takes is money. And yet, from a young age, Firenze dreamed of owning a sharp weapon. Look at the Trekkers who wander between cities, the knights who move through streets and alleys. They all have their own weapons and, therefore, are masters of their own fate. But Firenze never managed to find a weapon completely to her liking. A dagger? She disliked sneaking around and assassinations. A whip? She didn't care for weapons that could not subdue an enemy in a single decisive strike. A cleaver? Too conspicuous, and far too heavy. It was only much, much later that she found a cane at a secondhand market, perfectly balanced in length and weight. "If you take a piece of wood like that home, won't your parents scold you?" Nyx asked. She had come along with Firezen. "They won't," Firenze replied. "They'll just think I have good taste, and that I've finally reached the age where I know how to choose luxury goods." Smiling, Firenze pulled off the head of the cane. Just as she expected, the blade concealed within was hard and razor-sharp, gleaming with an immaculate, flawless light. She liked this weapon, liked the threat and killing intent hidden beneath its beautiful exterior. She thought that perhaps she should use this sword to cut through things far more unyielding. Such as tradition, order, and rules. Only when the moon goes dark can the stars burst forth with dazzling brilliance. And she was like that star, waiting for the uncertain moment when it would finally be drawn from its sheath. "I shall name this sword ... Starlight."