The [Genie of the Bottle] initially felt an absurd sense of performing a nial task in front of an expert and subconsciously wanted to open the bottle and offer three wishes to the other party.
But realizing this was the New Continent Dragon Court, theoretically, there shouldn't be any other devils besides him and a few subordinates, he imdiately felt a trace of caution.
Moreover, he had the heavy responsibility of establishing a colonial Fortress Bridgehead, and decided not to care whether this was a clumsy prank or not.
"No matter who you are or what tricks you're playing, as long as I have no desire, no one can do anything to .
No one understands better than us Transcendents from the Eastern Continent how to use commandnts and rules to defeat the enemy!"
The Eastern Continent is ruled by various terrifying "knowledge," from ancient history, mythological tales, unknown horrors from scary stories, curse spirits reign supre, shepherding all beings.
re mortals can only rely on secrecy, observance, and isolation to arduously continue their lineage.
It even separated into the outer world and the inner world, cautiously, abiding by "commandnts" has long beco their daily instinct.
Furthermore, the thought of a civilization stagnated for a thousand years would possess sothing he eagerly seeks, triggering uncontrolled greed, seed improbable to the Genie of the Bottle.
Creak! Creak!...
He circled half around the snow-covered forest, preparing to distance himself from the suspicious bottle.
Bang!
But suddenly the lid popped open on its own, revealing the true face of the incor amidst a hazy mist.
In the center stood a set of lavish tables and chairs, seemingly made entirely of gold, inlaid with countless precious gemstones.
On the table lay a sowhat aged piece of parchnt, a sapphire-tipped quill, a bottle of ink, and a silver lighter.
For a mont, even the air within the great forest seed filled with the ostentatious scent of wealth.
Snap!
Just as he focused on it, the lighter automatically opened, emitting a flash of blue fla.
A row of six breathtakingly beautiful young won in black and white maid costus marched out, standing beside the desk, curtsied to him.
Beautiful, elegant, so much so one would forget their vulgar roots, as if not maids, but six noble princesses.
Imdiately after, a young man in formal attire, with a black bow tie, but whose features were unclear and vague, materialized in the golden chair, raising a hand with a smile to invite him to take a seat at the desk.
"Dear guest, welco to Pawnshop No. 8, I am the proprietor of the pawnshop, you may call : Mr. Wednesday.
Please, take a seat."
As soon as he finished speaking, a red carpet extended automatically from the front of the golden table to the feet of the [Genie of the Bottle].
This grand display and atmosphere surpassed the "Blue Elf" image the devil just used to persuade Duke George of Clarence by leaps and bounds.
Intending to abide by the Eastern Continent's commandnts, the Genie of the Bottle could not help but be taken aback, with emotions churning within.
"This this this...."
Look at their configuration that flaunts wealth.
Proclaiming financial prowess with pure gold and gemstone furniture, this golden shimring texture, this pile of glittering pigeon eggs, who wouldn't be dazzled?
Financially defeated!
And those six top-notch beautiful maids, even placed in the King's palace would be carefully revered, who could bear to use them as re maids?
For any man, this is akin to adventurers capturing the ultimate goblin trap, offering no resistance or possibility of an air force.
Packaging defeated!
Although no one has ever seen the real face of the other party, who doesn't know that "Mr. Wednesday" is the mastermind behind the Online Financial Street?
Legend has it he is a Fifth Order [Pawnbroker] of the Gold Sequence, holding massive cash flows and countless treasures.
Alongside the more frequently appearing and famous Lady Friday, he's touted as a future destined king of comrce, or even... the world's wealthiest!
He hardly needs to use any control spells on his "custors."
Because even the most powerful Pope on this continent upon hearing this na would likely make ti to hear what he wants to say, and along the way, solicit alms, no, ask him for a donation.
Thus, brand effect is also a complete defeat!
The [Genie of the Bottle]'s catchphrase: "I can grant you a wish" couldn't co out, instead, he almost instinctively blurted out: "Rich man, take with you."
"The tertiary industry is necessarily founded on a plentiful material base of the primary and secondary industries.
The cutting-edge economics and social sciences are only born in the most developed places of material civilization, elsewhere they can simply copy.
So, does it an that the Kingdom of Hightins where I descended is actually a desolate fringe of the Dragon Court, and elsewhere on the continent there exist far stronger nations?
Such as the power this Mr. Wednesday belongs to?!"
When the disheartened [Genie of the Bottle] ca back to his senses, he realized he had unconsciously taken a seat before the golden table.
Facing the Fifth Order [Pawnbroker] Mr. Wednesday.
Even though he couldn't feel any pressure from the high sequence extraordinary being that the other might be, inferring the other was perhaps rely a random projection scattered across the globe, unaware of what he had just done.
Yet, the reputation of both na and shadow, he dared not show any negligence whatsoever.
The vigilance fearing he might be taken advantage of dissipated substantially.
For when the richest man shares an unexpected al and says he has a project you can join, but strictly only as a minor shareholder.
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