Chapter 1642 - 844: Local Necrosis (Part 2)

Holes everywhere, needs everywhere, it was the perfect time to rake in a fortune, and yet Desert Market just had to jump out and trip him up.

Several batches of big orders, and there's still no sign of the money coming back.

Even though the actual amount in arrears isn't that big, it set a really nasty precedent, even became a sort of example, in a way.

In a lot of people's eyes, it can basically be read as a signal Desert Market is sending out… From today on, I'm not paying Coast's invoices anymore, do whatever you want.

Ji Jue's expression grew gradually more serious.

What the hell do these dog bastards actually want?

"No doubt about it, this is a probe, sir." A deferential voice sounded at his side, pulling Ji Jue back from his thoughts. He turned his head and saw a half-transparent figure, and couldn't help being slightly taken aback.

"Huh?"

Ji Jue stared for a moment, surprised: "Why are you still here?"

"..."

Minkler's damned ghost of a father, Busstaman, started trembling on the spot, not daring to speak: thinking over what Mr. Ji meant, something sounded off!

Is this him hinting I should take the initiative and get on the road?

Ji Jue gave him a once-over, clicking his tongue in amazement—what do they say, life's potential is infinite?

This old dog really knows how to live.

He survived thunderbolts, survived Superior Great Evil descending, still managing to curl up in some dark corner and scrape through the fall. Even when the Family God went out of control and blew up, he still relied on the instance he'd left behind to keep hanging on.

He just looked a lot thinner than before, flickering in and out, in lousy shape, but at least he'd clung to life.

"Offerings from you?" He looked over at Minkler.

"I figured the old bastard might still be of some use to you, so I fed him a bit of my own Blood to keep him going." Minkler explained, "This time, it was also his idea to step up and perform. If you don't like it…"

"Your business, your call. I'm not getting involved."

Ji Jue nodded, then looked over at the fawning Busstaman: "Come on, talk. What's going on here?"

"On this matter, you might be under a bit of a misconception."

Busstaman answered respectfully: "To you, this is Desert Market running interference. It's just that, from… ahem, emmmm…"

The more he spoke, the more hesitant he became, constantly gauging Ji Jue's expression, but from beginning to end, Ji Jue's face didn't move, and he was getting impatient: "Spit it out if you have something to say, fart if you've got gas. Don't dangle it in front of me, or I can just help you bite a lighter."

"Y-yes, yes!"

Busstaman's figure flickered violently. He finally screwed up the courage, wiping imaginary sweat as he said, "What I mean is, possibly, maybe, who knows, from outsiders' perspective… you've, uh, sort of… you know… overstepped your bounds a bit?"

"Me?"

Ji Jue froze, pointing at himself, incredulous: "Overstepped? Since when?"

For a moment, Busstaman fell silent.

He didn't know how to answer.

The real answer was: from the moment he started controlling the entire Seven Cities.

After Coast got a stranglehold on the whole Seven Cities Alliance, it carried out a total Transformation, straight up remodeling Seven Cities beyond recognition under Ji Jue, and while burrowing into every crack with monopolies and control, they also dug out one of Desert Market's biggest markets on the Endless Sea, roots and all!

Smuggling, organ trafficking, banned drugs…

The biggest market and widest channels in the western Endless Sea, and countless routes for illegal trades flowing into the Federation, all got chopped off by Ji Jue.

Without Seven Cities as a source of goods, market, and channel hub, who knows how many people took massive losses.

This was the livelihood of a million pieces of trash scattered among the Thousand Islands!

Ji Jue had hooked up his own artery from New Spring to Central Earth, but in the process shattered the legs of who knows how many people in Desert Market, in a way they could never be patched back together!

And he'd even put Gold Hair and Ling Shuo, those two dogs, at the door to stare them down, constantly cleaning house, monitoring and suppressing things in the open and in secret, making sure nothing came back from the ashes.

He looked exactly like someone who'd eaten his fill and now wanted everyone else to starve.

Various parties had sent people over multiple times hoping to talk face-to-face with Ji Jue, but he couldn't even be bothered to give them the time of day.

In everyone else's eyes, that bastard Ji was utterly devoid of conscience.

Eating alone is one thing, but what the hell are you doing smashing the pot altogether?

How the hell are we supposed to live?

"All kinds of parties are probably not too happy with your approach."

As an onlooker, Busstaman could actually understand the mental gap between Ji Jue and the Thousand Islands People: "If I may, this really isn't that serious.

If I'm guessing right, they just want to use this kind of method to force you to show up and talk in person."

Even if Ji Jue kept a death grip on his own plate and refused to let go, what harm in just closing one eye now and then, leaving everyone a way out?

Everyone could profit if they cooperated.

Hell, if Ji Jue was willing to give an inch, they'd even be willing to put in money and effort to invest in Seven Cities, maintaining this biggest transfer hub from the Thousand Islands to the Federation. Then all the business could keep going, maybe even boom harder than before.

Predictably, all those venomous junkies who'd been suffocating and starving over the past months would celebrate the royal army's arrival, obediently coughing up their pathetic cash to buy themselves a tiny bit of chemical bliss.

With Desert Market's help, local distributors and dealers everywhere would naturally push Coast's products with everything they've got, helping Coast expand…

A money-printing pipeline, rebuilt from scratch, strong alliance, endless upsides!

The only problem was…

"Where exactly are the upsides?"

Ji Jue asked back, face blank, giving Busstaman a sidelong glance as he suddenly asked, "If I want to make money, do I need them to give me their blessing?"

Busstaman didn't dare say a word and lowered his head obediently.

"Seven Cities is mine."

Ji Jue sneered coldly: "When did my stuff become their Treasure Basin?"

Talk?

Talk my ass.

This is decided. Not up for discussion. Don't even think about it.

In your dreams.

.

.

Three days later, Coastal Industry once again used official channels to press all the chambers of commerce delaying their final payments.

After yet another round of the same insincere perfunctory responses, Coast issued its final warning.

From small home appliances to cars, to generators, to drones.

All the goods sold by those chambers of commerce had their internal product serial numbers cut off.

Products already sold on the market could still be used normally, but everything stockpiled in their warehouses instantly turned into scrap metal!

Now it was the chambers of commerce stuck holding massive piles of junk that were panicking. Only this time, the one perfunctorily stalling and dodging was Coast.

And in the middle of this cold and anxious tug-of-war, someone suddenly turned up at Desert Market's Iron Hook branch with their ID in hand, making a scene.

As the only surviving Bloodline and final heir of the family that used to rule Ma Island, they asserted their ownership over Ma Island, and publicly denounced Ji Jue's despicable acts of annexing Seven Cities, seizing another's foundation, and causing the people to howl in misery. They demanded that Ji Jue immediately return Ma Island and stop compounding his mistakes.

With someone taking the lead, other collateral "dead-remnant" clans from various families also started making a fuss, stirring up a huge news wave on the Endless Sea and drawing massive attention.

Seven Cities, for its part, never responded from start to finish.

What the hell is this?

If I so much as look at trash of this caliber, I lose.

In this sudden burst of spectacle and drama, all parties expressed "strong concern" and offered every form of help except anything actually practical, urging both sides to resolve their issues as soon as possible.

But in reality, everyone knew perfectly well these clowns were just disposable pawns shoved out to muddy the waters, completely useless.

Who doesn't know exactly what kind of crap the Thousand Islands are?

Forget stealing foundations—wiping out an entire bloodline over some chickenshit triviality is standard operating procedure. For Ji Jue, as the de facto owner of Seven Cities, to let these irrelevant nobodies live till now already counted as merciful.

They basically brought this on themselves.

See? One moment of mercy and now look, it's blowing up in your face.

The real key was that under the frantic agitation of these jumping clowns, Desert Market branches everywhere finally had a convenient excuse to start acting up.

The angle they took was just as sneaky.

With Seven Cities' sovereignty now in dispute, the revenue and final payments from Disaster Beast remains that families from Seven Cities had entrusted to Desert Market to sell during the previous disaster winds period, all entered a review process.

Since the operating entity had changed, should this huge pile of money still be paid out or not?

After flipping through all kinds of versions of contract law from across the Federation Empire and the Thousand Islands all night, nobody could come up with a definitive answer.

Oh no, what a headache.