"Co in!"
The Archbishop and Fox had thought it was a staff mber from the Lighthouse Union with so business. But to their great surprise, the person who pushed the door open and entered turned out to be the very man they had been talking about, the stumbling block and spoiler—[Sea Hunter] Byron Tudor.
Instantly, Fox’s expression changed. He struggled to suppress the killing intent in his eyes and rebuked in a cold voice, "What are you doing here, Mr. Byron? This is a private gathering, and you are not welco. Please leave."
But Byron paid no attention to him. He walked straight up to the Archbishop, standing elegantly before him and bowing with a grace that felt like a breath of spring. "Your Eminence, I found a wallet outside the door, and to my surprise, it had your na on it. I hurried over to deliver it to you. Please check it and see if anything is missing."
Saying so, he reverently handed over a beautifully crafted deerskin wallet to the Archbishop with both hands.
A wallet? My true body is still in the Old Continent at St. Peter’s Cathedral; how could I have lost my wallet here?
One must know this is the [Zero-Level Sacred Relic · Pharos Lighthouse]. Apart from the limited administrators and council mbers, others do not have the authority to bring real objects in. But indeed, the wallet bore the na "Babatila."
The Archbishop, full of doubt, subconsciously took the wallet and opened it. Inside, there wasn’t even a single copper coin of the smallest denomination, just a lone white piece of paper. Just as he thought he was being fooled by the young man before him, he unexpectedly saw a few lines of beautifully written noble cursive on the white paper.
"Top-grade Spices: twenty kilograms.
Raw nugget gold: three thousand pounds.
Ink Tree Plantation on Yucatan Island (deed): one thousand five hundred acres.
..."
Judging by the format, it was clearly a list of highly valuable "local specialties" from the Bantaan Archipelago!
This... The Archbishop’s heart beat imperceptibly faster.
Not all of the 98 red-robed Cardinal Archbishops of the College of Cardinals are high-and-mighty true Fifth-Order Legends. Like many of the Kingly Titles of kingdoms, they are on par with the Fifth Order solely through the authority granted by an Episcopal Authority Ring and the Church’s foundational legal system. The ring belongs to the Church, not to a specific family. Once they retire, their families will remain, at best, no more than an inconspicuous Middle Sequence minor family on the Continent. This windfall was already a considerable fortune for him.
Byron watched Babatila’s changing expression, continuing with a smile to confirm, "Your Eminence, this is indeed the wallet you just lost, is it not? The wallet was filled with so much, and I noticed you hadn’t brought a personal servant with you. I’ve already entrusted the Lighthouse Union staff to urgently transmit everything via the lighthouse network to your residence. I think by the ti the eting’s over and you return ho, you will find this batch of recovered property waiting for you. Congratulations, Your Eminence. It’s surely the Lord’s blessing that allowed your noble mission to be untarnished by senseless financial loss."
The Archbishop suddenly felt the room growing warm. He unconsciously tugged at his collar, stamring slightly as he asked the young man with a beaming smile, "This... the last line written here states that the wallet I lost also contained... two rchant ships? The kind of tall, large ships with a displacent of at least a few hundred tons?"
CLAP!
Byron clapped his hands together. "Isn’t that so? That’s why you’re the Archbishop, indeed. Your description is spot on; they are two Galen Sailing Ships with a displacent of three hundred tons each. These two rchant ships just happened to be picked up by us, and I was thinking it would be quite inconvenient for you to take them back. It so happens that our Westwind Express is in dire need of ships lately. How about you join Westwind Express as a shipowner with these two rchant ships? With regular dividends on the first of every month, I assure you it will never be less than this number..."
Byron grinned, holding up three fingers for emphasis.
The Cardinal Archbishop’s eyes shone uncontrollably. He naturally tucked the wallet into his pocket and tapped his chest four tis. "Ahem, the Ten Commandnts of God and Man tell us, ’You shall not steal. You shall give to others what is rightfully theirs; you shall not covet. You must believe that the Lord gives you abundantly. You shall not bear false witness; you must speak the truth.’ Mr. Byron, you are entirely correct; this is my lost wallet. You are indeed a gentleman of high moral character, and I believe the Lord will always favor a person of your standing."
He looked at Byron, utterly satisfied, his eyes almost spilling over with laughter. Every glance seed to say, "Young man, you know how to handle business, and your path is certainly getting broader." From the mont he entered the door, every word, every gesture was filled with noble elegance and worldliness.
If it weren’t for the fact that nurous important personalities in the Bantaan Archipelago suddenly had this Sea Hunter’s "biography" on their desks, one might even suspect he was a carefully nurtured noble scion. He was far more accomplished than the current Governor of Havana, Fox, who ca from an Army officer background and only knew a straightforward approach. The young man had a bright future ahead.
Clearly, by this ti, Byron had already more than satisfied the requirents for the [Ritual·Blood Feast Chalice]’s noble elegance, even exceeding the standard.
The Cardinal Archbishop stood up and patted Byron on the shoulder. His face showed none of the initial intent to eliminate an obstacle, only amiability. "Mr. Byron is clearly a man of extraordinary wisdom who knows how to get things done. It is Edward IV’s fortune to have you assisting in the managent of the colonies. Unlike so fools who only cause trouble for the Papal Basilica. I believe you’ll be able to satisfy everyone and handle this matter beautifully. I guess you two must have more to discuss, so I won’t intrude any further."
After saying that, he gave Fox, the Governor of Havana by his side, a aningful and warning glance, then turned and strode away.
That glance undoubtedly conveyed: Look at these two—both Governors, yet what a vast difference in their conduct! Byron returns lost property without claiming it, which pleases the Bishop imnsely. However, anyone who dares hinder his continued ’returning of lost property’ will incur the Bishop’s profound displeasure.
To accomplish the task set by his superiors and make a considerable profit for himself without committing any errors of principle—why not go for it? This is what real work is like, comfortable!
Byron bowed slightly behind him and assured, "Your Eminence, please rest assured. I am a man who understands the rules very well. I will not cause any trouble for the esteed mbers of the College of Cardinals, and I guarantee that everyone will be satisfied."
He just added silently in his heart, I hope you can satisfy in the future as well.
With the [First-Class Holy Relic · The First Stock Certificate] in hand, every copper coin he now used as a bribe could be converted into shares of the Holy Infant Society, which belonged to the Direct Lineage of the Traditional Faction under the Archbishop. When the ti ca to reel in his father, there would also be a rope around this Archbishop’s neck. Byron didn’t expect to one day own more than fifty percent of the shares and "acquire" the millennia-old Church Traditionalists. He just hoped that after using them and then flipping the table to break off relations, he would be able to recoup his current investnt in one fell swoop. Using the "sell" ability of the stock to extract treasures or transcendent abilities of sufficient value from them would be completely satisfying. After all, he wasn’t the one who would lose out. As for the various "yields" generated while the stocks were in their possession? That was, to put it bluntly, freeloading.
Until the Archbishop left the room, the dumbfounded Fox could not close his gaping mouth.
This... this... he’s the stumbling block hindering our mission! Archbishop, how could you so unceremoniously switch sides? And is this really how one gives gifts? If Byron’s achievents in slaying a Fourth Order surpassed his by three stories, his talent for gift-giving was at least thirty stories higher. No wonder this guy deserved to beco a Governor before he was twenty!
Then, he saw that despicable fellow turn his head and look at him, his handso face gradually filled with malice as he slowly spoke, "Governor Fox, it’s ti to talk about our business."
Feeling the pressure from Byron, Fox instinctively took a half step back and swallowed. "What business? I don’t have any business to discuss with you."
Byron casually took the seat where the Archbishop had been. He propped up one leg and sized Fox up and down as if looking at a fat pig ready for slaughter. It took him a while before he said, a hint of amusent in his tone, "What business? Of course, it’s your little life we’re speaking of. Let’s speak frankly; my top combat record is for sale. Our Pioneer Navigation Military Dispatch Company has always offered professional proxy services, and it’s not entirely out of the question to privately assign so of the rits to Castilia. It all depends on... if Governor Fox shows sincerity. After all, even if the deal doesn’t go through, at most I’ll lose so wealth. But Governor Fox, if you fail the mission, what you might lose isn’t just your little life."
Byron and the Kingdom of Hightins didn’t actually need the "Right to Protect"; even if he secured first place, it was just a decoration. All he needed now was an "exemption" to remove external interference and, incidentally, to remove the word "acting" from his title of Acting Governor. The excess rits were better traded for sothing more tangible.
Fox felt a chill in his heart. Even without Byron saying so, he knew his future looked bleak. Especially having suddenly lost the support of Cardinal Archbishop Babatila, his original plan—which wasn’t much of a plan to begin with—had also beco an unrealizable dream. The opponent’s knife was clearly at his neck.
Yet he still stubbornly yelled, "We People of Castilia never compromise! We’ll honorably retrieve whatever we want! You’re insulting my valor and loyalty! I will not sell out the Kingdom’s interests for so proxy service! Even if I, Fox, die in battle, even if I beco a disgrace by setting the record for the shortest term as Governor, I will not pay you to fight on my behalf!"
Then he looked sowhat sheepishly at the tightly closed door, making sure no one was outside. He stepped forward two paces, his old face crinkling into a smile like a chrysanthemum, and whispered a plea, "So, could you... make it a bit cheaper? I’ve just taken office and haven’t had the chance to, ah, ’acquire funds’ yet."
Byron simply handed him another slip of paper. The contents of this quotation were almost identical to the "local specialties" list from earlier, except... the quantities were tripled!
It also added one more condition: "Within one month, 20 Artisans of the Lighthouse Sequence must be delivered, along with all their family mbers. And additionally, ten percent of the annual dostic migration."
"HISS—!" Fox gasped at Byron’s voracious demand.
He was very clear that signing this ant putting a noose around his neck that would sooner or later tighten and choke him. But dying later was much better than dying sooner. In the end, he gritted his teeth and signed his na.
Everyone was happy.
Byron patted him on the shoulder. "Wise choice. A pleasure doing business with you!"
Overseas wasn’t just about fighting and killing; it also involved human relations. Unfortunately, the favors were Byron’s, but the bill was footed by Fox. But who was to bla when he and his n were beaten? What couldn’t be obtained on the battlefield couldn’t be obtained at the negotiation table either. Since Byron was charitable enough to give him a chance, how could it be done without him paying a significant price? Byron’s side had killed his n and taken his money, yet in the end, Fox still had to thank Byron for sparing his life. Though, inevitably, in the future, it ant being stripped clean to the bone.
Thus, the dispute over the "Blood Fury Disaster" and the "Right to Protect" was settled ahead of ti.
It’s said that minor issues are discussed in large etings, major issues in small ones, and truly critical matters aren’t discussed in etings at all. The small eting regarding the distribution of interests among the three involved parties had already ended, so the remaining larger eting naturally proceeded without any further waves. Byron also got what he wanted and beca the biggest winner behind the scenes.
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