Lord: Starting with Biological Modification Chapter 48 - 44: Pre-Dinner Preparations

The futures market in Tarry Port had always been the place where the financial pulse of the Gray Sea, and even the entire southern Duchy, beat the strongest.

There was none of the elegance of a noble’s salon here, only the most primal greed. On the giant blackboard hanging on the wall, commodity prices from all across the continent were hastily updated in chalk. Every erasure and new scribble was t with a chorus of cheers or curses from the crowd.

Today, the market’s focus was on the "deep-sea shipping contracts" for the next three months.

"Another ten points! The Blackstone Hand Comrce Association is buying up all deep-sea shipping contracts for the ’Erald Bay’ route next quarter! We’ll take as many as you have!"

The agent for the Blackstone Hand Comrce Association, a man with a ticulously trimd beard, stood in the most conspicuous spot in the trading center, surrounded by a throng of allies. His face was flushed, and he held his hand high like a triumphant General, his voice filled with excitent.

The Golden Sail Comrce Association’s ships were out of commission, but the market’s demand for shipping wouldn’t just disappear. As long as they monopolized all future capacity, they could drive freight prices sky-high. Not only would they make a fortune, but they could also completely crush any possibility of the Golden Sail Comrce Association making a coback.

This was an open conspiracy, a financial ga that only the major comrce associations could afford to play—one that required a stack of Golden Sun as high as their ambitions.

"They’re insane! That price is already fifty percent higher than the normal rate!"

"High? Once Golden Sail collapses, they’ll be the only ga in town. Believe , the price will double again by then!"

"What’s the use of just shouting prices!" A burly figure pushed through the crowd. A scar running from his forehead to his chin made his one eye look particularly vicious. It was "Sea Wolf," the most defiant captain of the Golden Sail Comrce Association.

He leaped onto a table, roaring down at the crowd, "Blackstone Hand, you want to buy my ship? Fine! But I’m not one of those fools who values his ship more than his life! I’ve got dozens of brothers who need to eat! I’ll pledge my shipping capacity to you, but you have to guarantee we have cargo to haul! Sign a ’guaranteed freight contract’! If you leave us with no cargo to sit on our asses at the docks, you’ll compensate us for ninety percent of the full load freight! Do you dare?!"

His words silenced the entire floor. The terms were vicious. He was basically dumping all the risk onto the Blackstone Hand.

The agent from Blackstone Hand was stunned for a mont, then erupted into an exaggerated laugh. He pointed at Sea Wolf and shouted to everyone around, "Look! Now this is a smart man! He’s not worried about whether we’re sincere. He’s worried we’ll have too much cargo for his ship to handle! HAHAHAHA!"

He publicly tore off a blank contract. "No problem! I’ll add another twenty percent to your price! My only fear is that your ship isn’t sturdy enough and will sink under the weight of our Gold Coins!"

Once there was a first, a second and a third soon followed... One by one, the captains who once sailed under the Golden Sail flag, as if by prior agreent, broke with their "old employer" and lined up to sign the absurdly overpriced charter agreents with Blackstone Hand.

No one noticed a figure cloaked in the darkest corner of the market, taking it all in. Velin watched the frenzied rchants as if observing a group of lab animals scrambling for bait.

’Compared to complex alchemical formulas, greed and fear are truly the most effective catalysts. It only takes a little bait for them to eat themselves to death.’

’Caroline’s move was brilliant. This wasn’t bait at all. It was designed to make them convince themselves, to use their own money at the highest possible price to forge the most magnificent shackles for themselves.’

...

The atmosphere in the council hall of the Golden Sail Comrce Association headquarters was heavy.

This hall was once where Caroline displayed her power and wealth. The mural on the dod ceiling depicted the epic of the Golden Sail Fleet conquering the storms, and the armrests of the twelve oak chairs were each carved with the emblems of the rival comrce associations she had defeated.

Today, however, it was filled with her creditors.

Representatives from the Kingdom’s major banks, financiers who provided ship mortgages, and over a dozen suppliers who had long-term partnerships with the Golden Sail Comrce Association.

Behind each of them stood an emotionless notary, clutching a thick stack of contracts.

Rain battered the stained-glass windows, and the sky outside was as gloomy as if the world were ending.

The hall doors were pushed open.

Caroline Channing walked in.

She wore a deep green, form-fitting dress that exquisitely showcased her tall, powerful physique. A high slit in the skirt offered fleeting glimpses of pale skin as she walked.

Her silver-white hair was swept up into an elegant bun, revealing the graceful curve of her neck and her signature sapphire earrings.

She didn’t look at anyone, walking straight toward the president’s chair at the far end of the hall. Her steps were steady, the sound of her high heels striking the marble floor the only echo in the silence.

She was like a lioness cornered by a pack of hyenas—wounded, yet still retaining her queenly dignity.

The first to stand was Duncan, the representative from the Royal Capital Bank. He began with so difficulty, "Caroline, child, your father and I were good friends. But... the board of directors has issued an ultimatum. Personally... there’s truly nothing I can do. The Golden Sail Comrce Association’s assets have fallen below the collateral threshold. The board demands imdiate repaynt of all loans, or they will initiate forced asset auction proceedings."

"The sa goes for us!"

"You have to pay us back now!"

A chorus of similar demands rose from all sides.

Just then, the hall doors were pushed open again.

The vice-president of the Blackstone Hand Comrce Association, a short, fat man nad Bach, strode in with a dozen other comrce association representatives, posturing like a savior.

"Gentlen, why all the anxiety?" Bach’s voice bood. He scanned the room, his gaze finally landing on Caroline with undisguised avarice. "The glory of the Golden Sail Comrce Association shouldn’t end in such a pathetic fashion. We, the Blackstone Hand, and our allies present here, are willing to extend a helping hand."

He took a few steps forward and tossed a docunt onto the table in front of Caroline.

"This is a buyout proposal. We will acquire all of the Golden Sail Comrce Association’s shipyards, warehouses, and route ownerships for forty percent of their market value. In return, of course, we will assu all of the Golden Sail Comrce Association’s debts."

He paused, his greasy eyes raking up and down the dress that outlined Caroline’s curves. "Lady Caroline, look at you. Why must you work yourself so hard? The sea is a battlefield for n. All this fighting, killing, and scheming... such rough work isn’t suitable for a delicate lady like yourself."

"Listen to . Hand over the comrce association, and I guarantee you’ll have the most comfortable room in my castle. You’ll only have to worry about which dress to wear and which ball to attend each day. That’s the life you ought to be living, isn’t it?"

Caroline showed no reaction. She kept her head lowered, her long eyelashes casting a shadow across her face.

Everyone in the hall, including that "Uncle Duncan," thought she was about to break. So even wore expressions of schadenfreude.

In the silence, Caroline let out a faint, almost inaudible scoff.

Then, she slowly raised her head, a slight smile on her face.

It was the smile one gives a stupid pig that thinks it’s clever, right as it steps into a trap.

She said nothing, rely extending a slender finger and rhythmically tapping the buyout proposal Bach had thrown before her.

TAP... TAP... TAP... It was like the ringing of a dinner bell, announcing a feast was about to begin.