The silence lasted for a mont, and the hesitation on several rchants' faces had already been swayed.
A few goblins nodded lightly, clearly considering this possibility.
However, a Hell Dwarf rchant raised a question, "But the Demon King is, after all, an officially recognized Lord. If our Trade Union stands out too obviously and he wins..."
"Wins?" Grock sneered, his tone dripping with scorn, "Does he expect to succeed by relying on that arrogant fool?"
He snorted coldly, his sharp gaze sweeping over everyone present.
"I once proposed three suggestions for the Trade Union at the Lord's eting. How did he respond to us?"
He paused, waiting for their response, but no one spoke.
After all, such proposals...
If they were the Lord, they wouldn't agree either; it seed like this guy was dragging them into playing with fire.
However, Grock wasn't entirely wrong.
The Demon King indeed cared nothing for them.
They could clearly feel that.
Thus, they chose silence.
Or rather, consent.
A cold smile curled at the corner of Grock's lips as he continued.
"He doesn't trust us at all! In his eyes, we're nothing but a bunch of greedy parasites, a pack of wild dogs that need to be regulated! He won't give us real power, only using our tax money to feed his group of crazy servants!"
The atmosphere in the room grew increasingly tense, with elusive expressions flickering on every face, clearly showing that dissatisfaction with the Lord wasn't unique to Grock, just varied in degree.
"Gentlen." Grock's voice was low, carrying a hint of calculation as he seized the opportunity to continue, "Do you really want to be ordered about by soone who crawled up from the lowest pits of Hell? Do you truly consent to being exploited by a tyrant who doesn't even have noble bloodline? I hardly oppose working for nobles, but they must make feel it's worthwhile and genuinely help our business, rather than adding trouble for us."
His gaze swept over the furious rchants, and finally, a victorious smile blood on his lips.
"We should choose a safer future! The future of Black Wind Castle should not be ruled by a countryside Demon King; it should return to the Demon City, a city governed by reason and order!"
"This is also what the Dragon family, who truly cares about Black Wind Castle, is promoting... This land should be directly governed by the Demon City, managed personally by the Governor appointed by Lord Demon God, which truly aligns with Hell's interests!"
His voice echoed in the warehouse, and the representatives of the trade union present were already swayed from hesitation to being moved.
Indeed—
This was the choice truly matching Hell's interests and also most aligned with their interests!
Their eyes burned with desire, so nodding frequently, so whispering among themselves, and so even clenching their fists in excitent.
Grock watched this scene with satisfaction.
He knew he had already succeeded.
However, what he didn't know was that a few streets away in the goblin community, another much larger storm had already been ignited.
Those he considered inconsequential cannon fodder hadn't been defeated by the plague nor had they flailed like headless flies as he expected, turning their anger towards their nominal master. Instead, guided deliberately by the Demon King's minions, they united, transforming fear into anger, anger into strength, directing their wrath at the disinterested Trade Union...
With consensus reached, the atmosphere in the eting room gradually lightened.
Grock then announced the actions they should take next, including taking advantage of the spreading plague to win hearts, inciting goblin laborers to target their grievances at the Lord's Mansion, and feigning cooperation with the Lord's Mansion in disaster relief while creating bigger problems... All this was to align with the Dragon family in launching the next hearing in Parliant, questioning the Demon King's governance ability, and reclaiming Black Wind Castle's Baron Territory from his hands.
The entire plan seed foolproof.
With a confident smile, Grock picked up the untouched wine glass since the start of the eting, watching the clear wine slightly sway under the candlelight along with the reflections of the unwavering faces on the wineglass.
"Ladies and gentlen, thank you for standing with . I will never forget your contributions today, and the Dragon family will never forget either—"
"Let us toast for the future of Black Wind Castle!"
With that, he drained the red wine in his glass.
Yet, just as he was about to place down his wine glass, rapid footsteps sounded from outside.
Accompanied by a loud "bang," the warehouse door was slamd open, and the liquid in the bottle shook vigorously.
A goblin, sweating profusely, stumbled in, nearly falling to the ground, face pale as paper, barely able to speak.
"M-Master! Sothing's happened!"
Frowning, Grock put down his wine glass with annoyance and coldly eyed the short goblin.
"Why panic?" His voice carried a trace of impatience, "Can't you see we are discussing important matters?"
The goblin servant almost collapsed to the ground, trembling with a faltering voice.
"The goblins have gone insane! They're gathering in the streets, heading towards us!"
The air in the room froze instantly, everyone's expressions changed.
"What?!"
Grock's face turned ugly in an instant, standing up with a start.
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