Chapter 271 - 244: Who is the Black Hand?

Chapter 271: Chapter 244: Who is the Black Hand?

’I absolutely despise the people who framed my family.’ This was a thought Shire kept buried deep in his heart. After all the trouble of transmigrating, he’d actually become a noble. The good life was just about to begin, but now... he was a *former* noble.

’Waking up every day in a massive, velvet-covered bed... having to pull my arm out from between a pair of smooth, porcelain thighs just to get up. Then a cute, beautiful maid in pigtails would bring me my pajamas, still warm with her body heat. I’d gaze out from the castle balcony at the bustling city below. All I’d have to do is hold out my hand, and a cup of coffee or a glass of wine would be placed respectfully in it. With a turn of my head, slender fingers would pop a peeled grape into my mouth. To think that a life like that could just burst and vanish like a soap bubble, with a single POP!’

Every time he thought of it, Shire’s teeth would ache with resentment. "I hate two kinds of people the most: the decadent, and those who won’t let me be decadent."

This was also why Shire was so incensed by the Naga Prince’s strict separation of work and rest—because he, too, could have been living a life where he only worked two hours a day.

"Young Master, who do you think is framing us?" Uncle Musa looked at the goblin before him. The moment the topic was raised, his master’s face had darkened considerably. Combined with his green skin and sharp fangs, his expression looked all the more terrifying.

"Who stood to gain the most?" Shire asked slowly.

"Gain? That would be the Royal Family, I suppose. Torch City is filled with their direct officials now, and they fight amongst themselves all day. They’ll squabble over a few Gold Coins."

"Exactly," Shire nodded. "The Royal Family is definitely responsible. Someone among them coveted the port my father built. That Deepwater Port brings in a hefty sum every day."

"The King?" Musa asked.

"Probably not," Shire crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "That old man is getting on in years, and he’s always lived a debaucherous life. I heard a lot about him back in Plantagenet City. I think it was one of his two sons."

"The Second Prince or the Third Prince?"

"Or possibly both."

"Both?"

"Mhm," Shire narrowed his eyes. "One of them plotted it, while the other lay low, just waiting to swoop in and snatch the prize."

"That’s a possibility," Uncle Musa said with a nod.

"And it’s not just the Royal Family," Shire chuckled. "On their own, they probably wouldn’t have looked twice at Torch City just yet. After all, our family’s domain is a long way from the Royal Capital. Their reach doesn’t extend that far so quickly."

"You mean, Young Master, that someone instigated this incident to attract the Royal Family’s attention."

"Correct."

"Then who could it be?" Musa tried to recall past events, unable to imagine who the Merlot Clan could have made an enemy of. "The Lord Baron was always sincere in his dealings, and he had no friction with the neighboring nobles. Who could it be?"

"There’s a certain group of people for whom being prevented from making money is worse than death," Shire said softly, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

"Prevented from making money?" Musa repeated. A cold glint then shot from his eyes. "The Commerce Alliance?"

Shire let out a few scornful laughs. "After Father finished building the port, he brought the gold coin exchange business under the control of the Baron’s Mansion. He also built a huge number of warehouses. These were all things those merchant guilds used to handle. Although Father’s only motive was to stabilize the Deepwater Port’s operations, these decisions meant those guilds lost out on a ton of money for doing nothing."

The Deepwater Port of Torch City not only connects to the overseas Archipelago, but it’s also where the Darren River meets the sea. This leads to frequent exchanges of various Gold and Silver Coins. Previously, the merchant guilds could make a fortune just by "skimming a little off the top" during these exchanges—and it was a business with no overhead.

As a transit port, merchants from all over needed to rent warehouses around the harbor to temporarily store their goods. Those merchant guilds had bought up land and built a large number of warehouses long ago. They expected that once the Deepwater Port was completed and cargo traffic increased, they could jack up the rental fees. But Baron Merlot believed that speeding up logistics was the key to better operations, so he built even more warehouses for the convenience of merchants coming and going.

"But those were all necessary tasks. Why would they be dissatisfied?" Musa said with a frown.

"Yes, they were necessary tasks. But what they were dissatisfied about was that they weren’t the ones being paid to do them." Shire sneered. He recalled from his memories how those merchants would always be incredibly deferential, bowing and scraping whenever they met him and his father. Yet behind their backs, they hated his family with a passion. He’d even heard that they secretly cursed his family, wishing they would "go to hell soon."

"You’ve been in the trading business for a while now, Uncle. You must have felt the changes," he said, looking at Musa and gesturing with his hand.

"Hmph," Uncle Musa snorted. "It’s far more chaotic than when the Lord Baron was here."

Uncle Musa recalled for a few seconds before nodding heavily. "Back when His Lordship was here, the management of the Deepwater Port, while not perfect, was at least orderly. But now..."

He shook his head. "Those officials who report directly to the Royal Family are too busy with their infighting. They’ve long since delegated all the work to the merchant guilds. But not only do the guilds charge exorbitant prices, their handling of many matters is a total mess. If I hadn’t paid extra, I wouldn’t have even been able to find a warehouse. And those merchants only care about security *inside* the warehouses; they couldn’t care less about the surrounding port or the sea."

"Security, huh?" Shire raised his eyebrows. "Don’t tell me it’s led to a lot of bandits."

"If only it were just bandits," Uncle Musa sighed. "It’s undead. Skeletons, to be precise."

Shire narrowed his eyes, as if a thought had just occurred to him.

"It’s the same old infighting between those officials. We don’t know who’s behind it, but someone hired a Necromancer to set up an Undead Summoning Array around the port. As a result, huge numbers of skeletal sailors are crawling onto ships entering and leaving the harbor. This has been going on for nearly a month, and they’re still just squabbling over who’s to blame."

"So what’s the solution now?" Shire asked. He’d heard about this from Little John before; it seemed their ship wasn’t the only one to run into Undead Monsters.

"What else can be done? You just hire a few more Adventurers for the ship," Uncle Musa said grumpily.

"That makes sense..." Shire shook his head slightly. He had been wondering why he hadn’t heard much news about Adventurers since winter began. He’d assumed they were scared off by the Giant Spiders and Giant Bees, but now it seemed likely that many of them had moved on to Torch City to earn some extra money. After all, skeletal sailors were much easier to deal with than the monsters in the depths of the Nightmare Forest.

"A lot of people are now privately saying how they miss the days when His Lordship was here," Musa let out a soft breath. "A pity that not even praying to the Gods will help."

"No need to pray, Uncle," Shire said with a small smile. "The Church aren’t good people, either."