Chapter 28: The Wealthy Strike
The night was deep. Inside the bedroom of a two-story building, a potbellied middle-aged fat man sat against the headboard, having entered saint mode. His name was Frand, the vice president of Saint Moro Island's Lijin Bank.
The concept of banks had only emerged in the past decade or so, and they had flourished soon after their appearance. Of course, this was inseparable from the empire's strong support behind the scenes.
Five years ago, banks were allowed to be privatized, and various laws concerning private banks were successively enacted.
Frand was one of the first gold rushers and also the most successful. He recalled that at a banquet a few days ago, the president of the Imperial Bank had taken the initiative to walk toward him, smiling as he chatted. Just remembering this made him feel elated.
Other private bank presidents, upon seeing that big shot, would be full of flattery, but Frand was different. Because of the wealth he held, he had befriended many high-ranking officers of the Royal Navy. Every year, in the name of the empire, he provided funding to these naval officers.
Note, it was funding in the name of the empire. Those gold coins would first be taken over by the empire under the guise of taxes, and then distributed to the various naval officers.
Frand didn't want to give the gold coins directly to those naval officers, but he couldn't do that. With the behemoth of the empire around, how could he, a vice president of a private bank, dare to directly fund the Royal Navy? Did he want to die? Or did he plan to unite these naval officers to overthrow the empire? Any one of these charges pinned on Frand would be enough to kill him hundreds of times.
Frand's approach was clever. It alleviated the empire's economic pressure without touching its dignity, and it also allowed him to befriend the naval officers.
For this kind of merchant, the empire's high-ranking officials and the Royal Navy's officers were very fond of him. They opened doors of convenience, letting Frand make money, so everyone could have a share of the meat.
Although Frand was the vice president of Lijin Bank, in reality, he was the true owner of Lijin Bank. The so-called president was a shield he pushed forward, a high-risk position often targeted by pirates who valued money over life.
Frand had seen through it all. On this chaotic Demon Sea, strength was everything. He was just a merchant. Too much wealth was a disaster for him. Those naval officers or pirates with supernatural powers could kill him silently.
As Frand was sighing, a drop of blood appeared out of thin air, as if flying out from another dimension. This blood touched Frand's hand, but he didn't notice.
Everything around seemed to become unreal. This feeling was somewhat like a dream, yet also had a sense of reality.
Frand watched the beautiful socialite walking out, his gaze indifferent. Having just entered saint mode, he was so tough.
"I'm sleepy. I'll talk to Commodore Murray tomorrow morning."
Frand let out a long sigh. He was over forty and, being quite lustful, although it was all consensual, Frand's bloated body couldn't handle it. He was severely weak. He had visited various witches but found nothing. Supernatural power could help restore his increasingly frail body, but to bear such power, one needed a strong enough physique; otherwise, death was certain.
Frand couldn't get access to those supernatural items and potions that didn't require a strong body. Those things weren't even enough for the empire's rulers to distribute, let alone reach a merchant like him.
Drip~
A cold drop of water fell on Frand's face. He shivered from the cold and looked up at the ceiling.
"Ah!!"
A scream spread, echoing in the night sky for a long time.
Bang.
The bedroom door was kicked open. Several naval soldiers rushed into the room. Two of them jumped onto the bed, crouching on either side of Frand, while the others guarded the door and windows.
"Mr. Frand, what's wrong?"
"Ah!"
Frand, huddled under the covers, poked his head out. Seeing the naval soldiers, he relaxed. Covered in sweat, he nearly collapsed from exhaustion.
"There's a ghost, no, no, no, it's a monster. Take me away from here!"
Frand, as if seeing a savior, grabbed the arm of the soldier beside him.
"A monster? What kind of monster?"
The soldier looked puzzled.
"It's..."
Frand's words stopped midway. His body froze, and his eyes filled with terror.
"Like this?"
The soldier crouching on the bed grinned eerily. His head split open, and black tentacles covered with eyes extended out.
"Ah!!"
Frand screamed as if possessed by his own wife, his hands shielding his chin.
Squelch.
The black tentacles engulfed Frand, and everything turned to darkness.
Whoosh. Frand sat up from the bed, drenched in cold sweat, breathing heavily. The dream, so vivid it felt real, had left him drained.
"It was just a dream. Scared me to death."
"Hmm~? Mr. Frand, what's wrong?"
A lazy voice came from beside him. A beautiful socialite sat up, rubbing her eyes.
"Nothing, just a nightmare."
"A nightmare?"
The socialite turned her back to Frand. The next instant, with a crisp crack, her head spun 180 degrees to face him.
Seeing this, Frand felt a warmth in his crotch. He wet the bed and passed out on the spot.
In a daze, Frand suddenly opened his eyes. Same familiar bedroom, same familiar socialite beside him.
"Ha!"
Frand let out a roar and kicked the socialite off the bed. The frail woman fell with the blanket, sitting up in confusion.
"Mr. Frand?"
"You, you, you... don't come near me."
"Huh?"
The socialite was completely baffled. Then, feeling wronged, she turned her head away.
"I..."
Frand shook his head and pulled a gold coin from his clothes nearby.
"I just had a dream. Anyway... it's complicated. Take this gold coin and leave."
"Wah wah wah~"
The socialite covered her face and cried, tears gushing from between her fingers. Yes, gushing, like a faucet turned on full blast.
Seeing this, Frand lay back on the bed, closed his eyes. It was a dream, all a dream.
Soon, Frand was drowned in tears. The nightmare continued.
The next morning, Frand sat up from the bed. After a whole night of nightmares, he was surprisingly energetic, without the expected fatigue. But he was very hungry, hungry enough to eat half a cow.
After ordering breakfast, Frand began to feast. For some reason, today's breakfast was exceptionally delicious, with much clearer flavors.
After finishing the meal, Frand felt puzzled. He felt his body had become much lighter, as if he had aged ten years.
This sudden change filled Frand with genuine joy. But soon, he noticed a note on the bedside table, which read:
'Frand, with your current physique, living past 120 years won't be a problem, provided you don't die from an accident. As the price, nightmares will accompany you.'
Seeing this note, Frand felt both fear and joy. He could feel his body had indeed improved, but last night's nightmare...
Last night, Frand had fainted 12 times and wet the bed twice. If not for his rich life experience, he might have been embarrassed enough to cry.
"Give and take."
Frand paced in the room. This kind of tactic, he often used on his subordinates. Today, he experienced it firsthand. He had to admit, the method was very effective. He was firmly controlled, far more clever than kidnapping and threatening him.
Frand was sure he could get rid of the nightmares, but at a cost. First, he thought, this wasn't Commodore Murray's doing. The person behind this didn't care about open retaliation.
"Not Commodore Murray, not pirates. Is it some witch? No, a witch wouldn't dare do this to me."
Frand eliminated his targets one by one. Soon, he recalled something. Last night, Commodore Murray had left abruptly during their meeting. Through the power of gold, Frand knew Murray had gone to meet a legendary figure, the captain of the Doom Number.
"Could it be... I've been targeted by that one?"
Frand shuddered. He had climbed to his current position, so his intelligence channels were essential. He had previously received news that yesterday, the legendary one had massacred Sinking Ship Island, killing everyone related to pirates without mercy. The ruthlessness of the methods, just imagining it, sent chills down Frand's spine.
Frand hesitated repeatedly but finally decided: fortune favors the bold. He didn't lack wealth. Having a healthy body to enjoy that wealth was an irresistible temptation for him.
Refusing the protection of the naval soldiers, Frand took a few of his guards to the beach by the coast. Once there, he dismissed all his guards.
Waves crashed against the sand. A block of ice drifted over. Frand hesitated for a moment but eventually waded through the seawater and climbed onto the ice.
The ice suddenly accelerated. The wind pressure made it hard for Frand to open his eyes. He felt something grab his shoulders and lift him into the air.
When Frand was back on solid ground, he stood on the deck of a large ship.
"Welcome aboard the Doom Number, Frand."
Baha landed on top of the captain's cabin. Around Frand on the deck stood cursed people.
"Don't be nervous, Frand. You should have felt what you got last night. It was a precious potion. While you were tormented by nightmares, I injected it for you. Don't worry, no side effects."
Baha paused here, giving Frand time to think.
"Since you're a merchant, let's make a deal. How many gold coins are you willing to pay to get rid of the nightmare problem?"
"This..." When it came to business, Frand's courage surged. He continued, "Let your side set the price."
"Alright, 30,000 Demon Sea gold coins."
"Deal."
Frand breathed a sigh of relief inside. He had thought he would have to go bankrupt.
"What the hell!"
Baha looked Frand up and down, a bit stunned. This wasn't a wealthy merchant; this was a money god.
PS: (Two chapters today. Spring has arrived, and my cervical spine problem has flared up again, an old issue. If it improves tomorrow, I'll aim for four chapters. If not, I'll still try to keep three.)