36: Chapter 36 My Employee, Named the Decaying Viscount

The howl of the orc scout still echoed through the forest, each word like an ice-tempered steel needle piercing the fragile alliance just forged.

The air froze solid. The aroma of roasted meat was utterly overwhelmed by the stench of blood, leaving only a tense, dead silence where one could almost hear heartbeats.

On Shadow Claw's rugged face, the faint glimmer of hope for the future that had just appeared was instantly replaced by furious rage.

His muscles tensed once more, like a great beast poised to strike. His bell-like eyes fixed unwaveringly on Levi, a low growl rumbling in his throat: "Human! Is this your scheme?"

In his simple worldview, the timing was far too coincidental.

A contract signed one moment, a human army attacking the next.

This was clearly a trap with inside help—using a false contract to lull him into security, then using the army to completely swallow his tribe.

Yet, Levi's expression didn't change in the slightest; he didn't even raise an eyebrow.

He merely watched the grievously wounded scout calmly, his gaze sweeping over the clean, precise cuts on the scout's body—wounds unmistakably made by a knight's longsword.

"Calm down, CEO Shadow Claw." Levi's voice was not loud, but exceptionally steady, as if possessing a power to suppress the frenzied atmosphere. "If this were my scheme, my survey team would not have become their first target on the advance."

Shadow Claw still didn't understand the word 'CEO', but that didn't hinder his grasp of the logic in the following statement.

Indeed, if they were in league, the army's target should have been his tribe, not those unarmed humans conducting surveys in the swamp.

His anger subsided slightly, but his suspicion deepened. "Then they are coming for you?"

"No," Levi shook his head, a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth instead. "They are coming for money. For that new trade route that threatens their master's very life."

He didn't need to ask to guess the origin of this army.

In the entire Northern Frontier, besides Baron Todd, who stood to lose his greatest source of wealth because of the new trade route, who else would be so eager to send troops into territory that did not belong to him?

"My lord, the survey team is in danger." Evelyn took a step forward, a barely perceptible urgency in her voice. "Lady Monica and her team have no combat capability. If they are caught by the cavalry's vanguard..."

"Order them to retreat?" Levi countered.

"That is the safest option."

But Levi shook his head again. He turned to face Shadow Claw's scrutinizing gaze and said slowly, "No, they cannot retreat. If they fall back, it means we acknowledge this land as a hunting ground where Baron Todd can gallop freely. The survey must continue."

His gaze shifted from the severely wounded scout back to Shadow Claw.

"Chieftain Shadow Claw, as the first CEO of Blackstone Express, your first performance evaluation begins now."

Shadow Claw was taken aback, clearly not following Levi's train of thought.

Levi took the high-precision swamp map from Evelyn and spread it out before Shadow Claw.

"Baron Todd's army is flying the banner of 'bandit suppression'. This means they dare not venture too deep, lest they alert other nobles. Their march route will inevitably follow the firmest ground along the swamp's periphery. And you and your warriors are the true masters of this swamp."

He traced a winding red line on the map with his finger—a route that could perfectly avoid the enemy's main force while allowing them to strike its flanks repeatedly like a venomous snake.

"I don't need you to confront them head-on; that's not cost-effective. I want you to lead your twenty most elite warriors, use this map, and follow on their heels like ghosts of the forest."

Levi's voice dropped low, carrying an undeniable magnetism: "Wherever their supply convoy is, that's where you go. Burn their provisions, lame their horses, steal their arrows. By day, hide in the toxic miasma zones they dare not enter. By night, harass their camps with sling stones and cold arrows. Don't let them sleep soundly. Remember, our goal isn't to kill, but to deplete. I want every step they take to cost them tenfold, to turn every soldier into a nervous wreck, constantly fearing the swamp will swallow them."

This was a completely new tactic, one Shadow Claw had never heard of—annoying as gnats yet lethally effective.

He looked at the areas on the map that Levi had marked, places only a true child of the swamp like himself would dare tread. Then he imagined the disheveled sight of those human soldiers struggling in the mire, and a flame of excitement gradually ignited in his eyes.

This was far more interesting than a frontal charge!

"Why go to all this trouble?" an orc warrior couldn't help but grumble in a deep voice. "Let's just charge over and twist the heads off those human knights!"

"Because victory in war is not solely decided on the battlefield." Levi turned to Evelyn, adopting a tone as if giving a lecture. "Evelyn, tell me. For a poor noble like Baron Todd, who survives off a single pass, to suddenly mobilize a well-equipped army—where does his money come from?"

Evelyn answered almost without thought: "According to intelligence, one week ago in the provincial capital, Saint Andrew, Baron Todd mortgaged the entire passage tax revenue of 'Bloody Throat Pass' for the next five years to the Gold Coin Chamber of Commerce. He obtained an emergency commercial loan of three thousand gold coins. This sum constitutes the entire military budget for his current campaign."

Levi nodded with satisfaction. He looked back at Shadow Claw, each word striking like a hammer on his heart: "Hear that? He is borrowing money to wage war. The Chamber lent him money so he could keep the pass and recover their investment with interest. But if we make this war exorbitantly expensive for him, with daily consumption like a bottomless pit, what do you think those moneylending merchants will start to think?"

Though Shadow Claw didn't understand commercial loans, he grasped the stakes involved.

That Baron Todd was using someone else's money.

And those who lend money fear nothing more than seeing it go down the drain.

"They... will make him stop?" Shadow Claw ventured.

"Correct." Levi's smile held a trace of capitalist coldness. "Merchants chase profit. When the risk of loss outweighs the possibility of gain, they will be more decisive than anyone in cutting their losses. What we must do is inflate Baron Todd's military costs to a point where even the Gold Coin Chamber of Commerce feels the pinch. When that happens, we won't need to lift a finger. The Chamber's debt collectors will grab him by the neck and force him to withdraw his troops."

Using the enemy's money to defeat the enemy.

At that moment, looking at this physically frail human before him who didn't even emanate Battle Qi, Shadow Claw felt genuine awe for the first time.

This awe even surpassed his admiration for brute strength.

This human's weapon was not a sword, but his mind—capable of manipulating hearts and money with ease.

"I understand." Shadow Claw gave a heavy nod. He snatched up the map, turned, and let out a low roar to his tribesmen. "The twenty fastest! Grab your bows and poison spears, follow me! Let those humans in tin cans taste the might of the Rotten Swamp!"

Watching Shadow Claw and his elite orc team vanish into the dense forest, Evelyn realized that a military crisis sufficient to overturn the entire Blackstone Territory had been cleverly transformed by Levi's few words into a precise strike against the enemy's economic lifeline.

The crisis seemed temporarily alleviated, but Levi's steps did not pause for a moment.

He turned to look in the direction of Saint Andrew City, his gaze profound.

Delaying was merely a stopgap measure.

The real, decisive blow was to render Baron Todd's "Bloody Throat Pass" utterly worthless.

"Evelyn."

"Yes, my lord."

"Baron Todd's foundation is the passage tax, and the basis of that tax is that all merchants wishing to do business in Saint Andrew City must pass through his Pass." Levi's voice turned cold. "In that case, we will establish our own sales channel within Saint Andrew City. A channel that can saturate the entire city with our goods without ever passing through his Pass."

He paused, then issued the core directive: "I need a person. Someone with status in Saint Andrew City, preferably nobility, to gain access to those upper-class venues. Someone familiar with all the intricate connections in the city, who knows whom to bribe and whom to approach. Most crucially, he must be destitute, financially desperate. Only such a person has no Bottom line, willing to do anything for enough money."

Evelyn adjusted her crystal lenses. Behind them, her violet eyes flickered slightly, as if rapidly searching her mental intelligence database for a matching target.

"As you command, my lord." She gave a slight bow. "The Blackstone Territory's underground intelligence network will find the most suitable 'tool' for you."

Three days later, Saint Andrew City, Debtors' Prison.

This was the darkest corner of the Holy City. The damp air perpetually reeked of despair and fermented ale.

Viscount Fernand Crimmon huddled on a cold stone bed, wrapping himself tightly in a tattered, faded coat whose original color was long gone.

Three days ago, he was still a respectable noble, frequenting gambling halls with women on each arm.

But now, due to a gambling debt he could never repay, everything he owned had been seized by the Gold Coin Chamber of Commerce. He was merely waiting for the debt liquidation period to pass, after which his viscount title would be revoked by the Royal College of Heralds, reducing him to a penniless commoner.

The heavy iron door screeched open, a sliver of light piercing the gloom.

"Viscount Fernand Crimmon, someone has posted your bail." The jailer's emotionless voice rang out.

Fernand looked up, thinking he was hallucinating.

Who would bail him out?

All his fair-weather friends had long since vanished.

In a daze, he walked out of the cell. The glaring sunlight made him squint.

A woman in a black dress suit, wearing crystal lenses, her demeanor so cold she seemed out of place in this world, stood quietly at the prison entrance.

"Viscount Crimmon." Evelyn spoke, her voice cool. "My master has paid off all your debts. You are free now."

Fernand's mind went blank.

He stared dumbly at the document Evelyn handed him. It clearly stated that his debt of three thousand seven hundred gold coins to the Gold Coin Chamber of Commerce had been settled in full.

"You... who are you? What do you want me to do?" Fernand's voice was hoarse. He knew all too well there were no free lunches. Such a huge price must demand an equivalent, or greater, payment from him.

"A job." Evelyn handed him another parchment scroll. Written in elegant script was: 'Employment Contract for General Manager of the Saint Andrew City Market Department, Blackstone Territory.'

By the time Fernand Crimmon was brought before Levi, he had changed into clean clothes, shaved, and was trying hard to reclaim some semblance of noble dignity.

He stood in the simple yet efficient lord's office of the Blackstone Territory, looking at the black-haired youth much younger than himself, his heart filled with wariness.

He thought this was another meticulously crafted scam, perhaps some rival wanting to use him for unsavory purposes.

"Viscount Crimmon, please sit." Levi gestured to the chair opposite, a gentle smile on his face.

"Lord." Fernand gave a stiff noble bow, sat upright, his words carefully measured. "I am deeply grateful for your generous assistance. How may I be of service to you? Although the Crimmon family is... currently facing some difficulties, we still have some connections and a modicum of influence in Saint Andrew City."

While uttering these polite words, he was internally calculating how to use these vague "connections" and "influence" to Perfunctory the other party.

Levi didn't speak. He simply clapped his hands lightly.

The door opened. Two guards carried in a heavy wooden chest and placed it heavily at Fernand's feet.

The lid was opened. A chest full of gold coins reflected a dazzling, mesmerizing light in the dim candlelight.

Fernand's breath caught. He had never seen so many gold coins piled together in his life.

"This is five hundred gold coins." Levi's voice sounded calmly. "It is your advance salary and startup capital."

He picked up a cloth-wrapped ore sample from the desk and handed it over.

"This is a sample from our Blackstone Territory. The iron purity is at least ten percent higher than the best refined ore from the capital on the market. My requirement is simple. Within three days, use this money to rent the three largest shops on the best commercial street in Saint Andrew City. The rent can be thirty percent above market rate."

The impact of money was far more direct than any rhetoric.

Looking at the chest of gold coins, then at the heavy, exceptional-quality ore sample in his hand, Fernand's facade of hollow noble etiquette instantly crumbled.

He realized this young lord before him was serious. He intended to conduct real, large-scale business.

Driven by immense potential profit, Fernand practically thumped his chest in assurance. With his connections in the Holy City, this would be a mere trifle.

However, merely two days later, Fernand returned, his face ashen as if he'd just crawled from a grave.

"My lord... It failed." He stood before Levi, his voice trembling, not daring to raise his head. "I contacted all the property owners on Golden Lily Avenue. Three had already agreed on price, even prepared the leases. But at the last moment, they all backed out, would rather paying liquidated damages rather than renting to us."

"Why?" Levi's tone remained calm.

"It's... it's the Gold Coin Chamber of Commerce." Fernand's lips quivered. "Chamber President Sallon personally issued a blockade order. Any merchant daring to cooperate with the Blackstone Territory will be blacklisted. The Chamber will cut off all their commercial loans and unite with all major merchant houses in the province to jointly boycott them. No one dares take that risk... My lord, it is impossible for us to gain any foothold in Saint Andrew City now."

He looked at Levi despairingly, convinced this ambitious plan had utterly failed.

But contrary to his expectations, after hearing his report, Levi not only didn't get angry, he instead smiled.

It was the smile of a master strategist, one who had everything under control.

He stood up, walked to Fernand's side, and gently patted the despondent man's shoulder.

"Well done, Fernand. Your intelligence exactly proves we are on the right path. It shows our enemy is already feeling fear."

Fernand looked up blankly, completely unable to comprehend Levi's logic.

If they couldn't even rent shops, how was that good?

Levi walked to the window, looking towards distant Saint Andrew City. The setting sun's afterglow cast his shadow long.

"Fernand, let me ask you." His voice held a note of amusement. "Who said selling goods necessarily requires shops?"