Warhammer Divine Throne

"The terrible losses, Mr. Laine, you know, this trip to Nord cost me dearly. Losing the goods is a minor issue, because selling the goods from Marinburg to Nord can offset a part of the losses. But too many people died on the road afterwards, just the compensation costs are a large expenditure. I'll tell you, Mr. Laine, I've worked for nothing this year." Mr. Oliver found an opportunity and poured out his grievances to Laine: "Luckily, I kept my life, didn't lose it all."

"Being alive is the best business deal. Money can be earned again, but a lost life can't be saved~" Laine smiled, and Oliver nodded repeatedly, feeling much less troubled: "Yes, yes! Mr. Laine is indeed right!"

"Recently, Our Majesty the Emperor defeated the Barbarian army. The merchants who lent money to His Majesty made a fortune. The Imperial Army seized a large amount of gold and silver from the Barbarians. It should have been another opportunity to earn money, which I missed again." Oliver spoke sadly, the Imperial Merchant slumped in his chair: "Such a big business opportunity right in front of me, and I missed it. Now the shares are snatched by those big merchants, there's no chance for me anymore. This lost a lot of money! Oh, Lady of Wealth, have you abandoned me?"

"Hehe~" Laine suddenly laughed, taking a big sip of apple wine. The Snail Bar's apple wine was mediocre, and Laine felt the sour, astringent taste dominated over the wine's fragrance. Smacking his lips, Laine thought Oliver's failed trade journey had to do with himself and Oliver's bad luck. Though he didn't feel guilty, he suddenly felt he could help Oliver. So, he adjusted his collar and whispered: "But Mr. Oliver, you'll lose even more next!"

"What?!"

"Next, those merchants who chose to support the Emperor's war will make a fortune. They can buy spoils at a reasonable price from His Majesty, the futures market will surge with the Emperor's repayment, and copper and iron prices will follow suit. Many merchants will become rich because of this." Laine quietly revealed the terrifying truth: "Due to lack of information, Mr. Oliver has missed this precious opportunity to earn money, losing even more."

"Oh! No! Don't say that!" Oliver held his eyes in pain, the Imperial Merchant feeling countless fortunes slipping through his fingers. For a merchant, this is the most painful thing, because they always see potential earnings as theirs and missed earnings as losses.

"You can't sit idle, my friend. You should act! Otherwise, you'll only lose more." Laine suddenly whispered: "The Nord villages are ravaged, ruined towns need rebuilding..."

"Yes...yes!!!" Oliver immediately understood Laine's meaning, smelling the scent of gold in this massive opportunity: "I need to prepare to act. I can't just look at the losses, or the long-term loss will be even larger."

The candle flame on the wooden table flickered alongside Oliver's voice.

After the brief excitement, the Imperial Merchant quickly faced reality and was hit again: "But I have a fatal problem, Mr. Laine, I don't have enough funds. I have two deals on hand, taking on land reconstruction is a lucrative task, but..."

"I can lend you." Laine's words were like music to Oliver's ears.

"Are you serious?!" Oliver felt happiness had come too suddenly.

"I don't like to lie, and this is our business partnership, Mr. Oliver. Not to mention, in Nord, my name is more useful than many Lord's orders." Laine squinted, his mouth corners lifted: "So this is a deal. You need money and trust from the Lords, I need profit and your business skills. We need each other, right?"

"Your words convinced me, indeed, Mr. Laine, I'll show you my talents and business capabilities." With the right target, Oliver lost his interest in drinking, immediately stating he would soon prepare substantial goods and hire mercenary guards. Nord's maritime transport was about to shut down, he couldn't miss this chance to earn money.

After discussing, the two were about to stand up when suddenly several women burst in from the tavern's entrance.

The women were heavily made-up, wearing revealing clothes, twisting and flaunting as they walked, with their cheap perfume especially nauseating.

They were streetwalkers from this part of town.

These women shared a common trait — they weren't pretty, perhaps having small eyes, overly high nose bones, or overly large mouths, yet they approached Laine and Oliver with clear intent.

Laine noticed the bar's waiters and bartenders were unresponsive to the streetwalkers, who came to Laine and Oliver: "Gentlemen, want company for drinking or perhaps companionship for a lonely night? Just drinking isn't a good idea!"

"Sorry, I'm not interested, I still have many important things to do. Fake, let's go~" Oliver immediately indicated he's uninterested, planning to rush back overnight to gather people.

"Mr. Laine, are you coming with us?" Oliver also asked Laine if he wanted to join, clearly trying to help him out of the situation.

"No need, I can handle this myself." Laine waved, signaling Oliver not to worry about him.

"Alright then, Mr. Laine, see you later!" So Oliver hurriedly left with his guards.

"Hello everyone! Ladies, if you don't mind, how about I treat three lucky ones to a mug of barley wine?" Laine's eyes turned around, randomly pointing at three streetwalkers: "You, you, and you, just you three stay!"

So the three streetwalkers sat down, the waiter took the copper coins from Laine, serving each a mug of barley wine.

The lead streetwalker was named Sarah. She had big hands and sharp facial lines, apart from which she looked passable. "Hey handsome, just one k of you? Ordering three at once, so-confidence in yourself?"

"Of course, haha!" Laine was handsome, dressed cleanly, unusual for this area.

"Where'd you come from, handsome?" Sarah took up the barley wine and gulped down,

"I come from Brunswick, a merchant named Rhodes~" Laine said casually, "I'm friends with the Mr. Oliver you just saw!"

Laine's appearance wasn't typical of the blonde, blue-eyed Nord people. His black hair and blue eyes were characteristic of Imperial Aachen people — the core human race. The royal family and some Great Nobles of the Human Empire were Aachen people, Laine's Low Gothic Language was standard, claiming to be an Imperial citizen was seamless.

After a few mugs of barley wine, Laine suggested moving to a hotel: "I think we can 'chat' more. I have something precious to show you."

"Oh! Of course!" The streetwalkers initially sought to make business with Laine.

So the group went to find a hotel.

Laine's eyes inadvertently squinted, for in his perception, holy white light appeared.

"Laine, my champion, what are you doing? Do you truly think these indulgent people are worth engaging with?" The Lake Fairy's beautiful form appeared in Laine's consciousness, her tone unwavering yet held a bizarre sense of danger: "Or do you have other motives?"

"Of course, I have other motives, my Lady. I'm truly uninterested in anything with these streetwalkers, but..." Laine's blue eyes rolled, his mouth corner raised high, confident.

"I just think, whether it's possible to understand any link between the Fallen Hunter and the Aesthetic Society, if I could clarify what the Aesthetic Society truly is, it comes down to these street girls!" Laine spoke confidently: "Are you interested in overseeing, my Lady."

"Interesting, then I'll witness it all."