A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

Chapter 394: Eutopia - II

The fifth cycle arrived in the blink of an eye.

Within this fleeting interval, many widely known events transpired, such as the Pelican Trading Commerce's announcement that it could fully supply all the grain for the Watson territory within the coming month, astonishing the entire empire; such as the grand dukes of the southern border formally cast their gaze, indicating their major trading houses' contact with the Pelican Trading Commerce, only to mysteriously vanish without a trace thereafter.

Yet, the most sensational was the Elder Princess's casual mention of this matter during a conversation with her ministers, referring to it as "an object of intrigue."

It is common knowledge that once the Elder Princess finds something intriguing, it is not long before it falls into her hands.

Those in the know, aware of the real essences of the Pelican Trading Commerce and the miraculous fields just outside Pelican City, have already withdrawn, preparing to greet the forthcoming spectacle with varying attitudes.

Of course, there were many other occurrences... some deliberately concealed, some not fit for public discourse, and some of negligible significance.

"Are you truly set on departing?"

At the doorstep of his residence in Pelican City, James stood as Laurel, puffing on a cigar of the same brand as Reginald's, exhaled a plume of smoke and spoke.

"...Indeed," James replied softly, watching the servants pack his luggage.

He was one of the few survivors of that assault, his usual kindness and popularity had lent him considerable aid. That day, James had been visiting two other farmers, and together they managed to fend off the assailants, though regrettably, he was the sole survivor.

"You could continue to receive dividends from the commerce, even without farming," Laurel glanced at James, "Do you find my methods so repugnant?"

"Repugnant..." James gazed distantly towards the towering walls of Pelican City. Continue your adventure at m|v-l'e -NovelBin.net

He recalled the harvest a month prior, the passion that surged in his heart, and the tears brimming in his eyes, so pure and sincere.

"It's not that I find you repugnant, Laurel," the young man shook his head, "It's just that it feels... too..."

Struggling for words, he finally expressed with a bitter tone, "It's too unreasonable."

"I was just farming, we earned more money, fed more people, yet it resulted in my father losing a hand, barely alive when rescued; it led to the other farmers in the Watson territory starving, driven mad enough to come after us."

"And… and there are those who killed our friends, yet they can still so brazenly... farm on the lands of the deceased, earning the money that should have been theirs..."

With these words, James looked wearily at Laurel:

"Laurel, these past nights, I've dreamt of the fields outside soaked in blood, of seeing the corpses of Caleb, Ford, and others emerging from beneath the soil... It's not that I find you repugnant... perhaps a little, but more importantly, I can't bear this place anymore, which is why I wish to leave."

Laurel remained silent, merely taking a deep draw from his cigar and slowly exhaling.

"Laurel," observing his impassive demeanor, James could not help but inquire, "Have you not… even one night, suffered from nightmares?"

"Never," Laurel replied, "Indeed, of late, I sleep less and less, yet it has nothing to do with nightmares."

"... Is that so."

In a subdued voice, James spoke, "Then, farewell, and I'm always grateful for the wealth you have brought into my life... You are the most significant man of my existence, a fact unchanged by anything you do."

Laurel waved dismissively, "You've been of considerable aid to me as well. Spare such words; had it not been so, I would not have come to bid you adieu."

"Thank you."

As the servants had finished arranging the parcels and luggage, James prepared to depart. Yet, before he could stride towards the carriage readied at a short distance, he found himself compelled to glance back at Laurel.

This stocky man, with his unrefined and rugged visage, James could not discern his true desires. He was astute enough to seize the crux of matters, yet seemed to… derive no pleasure from his current gains.

James could not fathom Laurel, but the young man, who regarded him wholly as a benefactor, solemnly warned:

"Laurel, that farmland is neither a blessing nor wealth, but a... curse."

"It yields so much, yet in the end... it will devour everyone. You must be very, very cautious."

Having said this, he boarded the carriage, ready to embark away from this 'land of miracles.'

Laurel merely stood outside his dwelling, puffing on a cigar, until the carriage vanished from his sight. Then he mused aloud, "Indeed, it is through great trials that one grows; even an idiot like James, bereft of wit, can utter such profundities. However..."

The man scoffed coldly, "Only those who place all their hopes in that plot of land will be devoure. I have never pinned my aspirations on a clump of mud, James."

Under the escort of his guards, Laurel swiftly arrived at the Pelican Trading Commerce. Reginald had specifically requested his presence today, though Laurel was unaware of the reason.

Upon entering the room, he saw the renowned owner of the Pelican Trading Commerce, who was lounging comfortably on a sofa, greeting him with a spirited hello, "Have you dispatched that young lad, James?"

Laurel nodded, taking a seat in silence.

"Ha-ha, thanks to that fool from who knows where, our profits have multiplied!"

Reginald laughed heartily, "The peasants you've traded for, we press their shares as low as possible. Not only do they bear no grudges, they think they've struck gold! All thanks to that rule-breaker, though his identity remains a mystery, and whoever had the audacity, now silenced, likely dealt with by the higher-ups. Perfect!"

The merchant snapped his fingers, signaling the maidservant in the room to pour wine, and simultaneously expressed his curiosity:

"However, Laurel, there is something... I am exceedingly curious about."

"What is it?"

Reginald gazed at Laurel for a long while before finally asking:

"What is it that you truly desire?"

He stood up with his poured wine and said:

"Now, with all those potions in your possession, you can choose to collaborate with whomever you wish; the entire empire is filled with people eager to work with you."

"Yet you remain here in Pelican City... Is it fear of transgressing the unknown rules set by that powerful individual, or is it something else?"

"Your need for money seems far less than I anticipated, to the point where... it appears you have no need for it at all. So, what is it that you want?"

"Is that of any importance?" Laurel responded calmly to Reginald's query, "I can bring you money, and that should suffice."

"Heh heh heh... Money, indeed, is sufficient, more than sufficient, so much so... that I've begun to contemplate my escape!"

Reginald, who had initially boasted to Laurel about how much the Pelican Trading Commerce was earning, suddenly erupted, "I've just realized, you madman, you're pushing the Pelican Trading Commerce to a position it does not belong! Not just in Pelican City, not just in the Watson territory, but in the damn entire empire! And all within a single month!"

He furiously smashed his wine glass to the ground, his neck flushed with rage as he bellowed, "It's out of control! Who knows when this game will end! Any mistake... and I'll be shattered to pieces, and so will you!"

Indeed, under the constraints of that powerful individual, all business activities must be conducted legitimately.

The Pelican Trading Commerce had not faced vicious competition or hostile takeovers; on the contrary, various trading houses were eagerly approaching it.

During this period, Reginald had met with more leaders and controllers of massive organizations than he could have ever imagined in his lifetime—these powerful individuals he would never have expected to meet, discussing business and market trends amicably, even willing to invest substantial sums of money.

Reginald's emotions had evolved from initial flattery to ecstatic joy, and now to trepidation, as if walking on thin ice.

This game would one day come to an end, and he could not imagine what the Pelican Trading Commerce and he himself would have to face when that day arrived. Even before the game's conclusion, at this moment, he was already filled with immense fear.

Laurel's unclear motives only served to deepen his fear, and Reginald even feared that Laurel might be a pawn of that powerful individual, that he himself might have been manipulated into a no-win situation.

"So... what are you trying to say?" Laurel remained unmoved by Reginald's furious demeanor.

After staring at him for a long time, Reginald suddenly burst into hysterical laughter, as if releasing all the fear and pressure he had accumulated over time.

"Hahahahaha... What do I want to say? No, nothing, nothing at all, I have only one thing to say."

The man spoke as if he had shed all his burdens, word by word:

"Keep this bomb to yourself, I'm out."

"The Pelican Trading Commerce is yours now, you madman, Laurel."

Having said that, Reginald stepped on the broken glass of the wine glass as if relieved of a heavy load, murmuring contentedly, "Damn it... finally... finally, it's over."

But Laurel remained calm, seemingly indifferent to the fact that the now-famous Pelican Trading Commerce had fallen into his hands.

Reginald looked at him as if he were a monster, then shook his head and said, "Madman... What was I thinking when I decided to collaborate with you, Laurel? What in the world... Hiss, why is it getting hotter?"

The man, puzzled, removed his coat, but the heat did not subside. Just as he was wondering what was happening, Laurel, who had been as still as a statue, suddenly stood up.

"Hey, what are you—"

The moment Reginald locked eyes with Laurel, he instantly shut his mouth.

Because he saw it, in the eyes of this farmer who cared nothing for money, a scalp-tingling, utterly mad... craving.

In the next moment, the entire ceiling of the room was consumed by a blood-red flame.

A proud and noble voice came from on high, echoing throughout Pelican City:

"So this is the so-called... land of miracles?"

At the same time, a handsome noble young man arrived at the gates of Pelican City.

He was leading a delicate girl, as exquisite as a puppet, who at a casual glance... one might truly mistake for a puppet.

Because her mysterious purple eyes were dull and lusterless.