Never Let Others Decide Your Fate

Harlett watched the son of a merchant, shivering on his knees before him, and suddenly stood up, executing a perfect, elegant noble bow.

"Greetings, Bernard. Though this is our first meeting, I've long been aware of your reputation.

As the most valued offspring of the Roldan Merchant Guild's master, you took over part of the family business at sixteen.

By cooperating with the Caravan Alliance, within just one year, you tripled the trade volume on the routes from Athkatla to Baldur's Gate, and doubled the profits.

By the time you were twenty-five, you were already a seasoned merchant capable of handling affairs independently, even expanding the business to more northern cities like Waterdeep, Neverwinter, and Luskan.

Because you prioritize profit above all else, you never cared whether the goods you bought and sold were legal or illegal, nor did you care who your trading partners were.

It was precisely this trait that earned you your father's favor.

This time, you personally risked escorting a batch of valuable contraband to the southern port of Caledon.

The main reason was to secure a long-term supply agreement with the local Thieves' Guild, which controls the smuggling channels, thereby ensuring the smooth operation of the Roldan Merchant Guild's most important and profitable trade route.

What you never expected was to be betrayed and sold out by your own blood relative."

"You... How do you know all this?" Bernard's eyes widened in shock.

He couldn't believe the other party knew him so well.

Especially regarding the less legal businesses in the northern regions, which were often very secretive, known only to a handful of core members.

Harlett smiled and explained, "I have many friends who are skilled at gathering information. So, when I took on this job, I asked them to collect some intelligence on you beforehand. I must say, as a merchant, you are successful and excellent. But as an heir to a merchant guild, you're still a bit lacking."

"What do you mean?" Bernard frowned, not understanding.

"It's very simple!

Firstly, you aren't ruthless enough. You didn't eliminate your siblings who might pose a threat to your position the moment you had the chance.

Secondly, you completely failed to understand that a merchant guild isn't just about making a lot of money; it also requires a minimum level of armed protection.

But in your pursuit of maximum profit, you didn't hire adventurers or guards to protect yourself, neglecting your security.

Getting caught by me this time is the best proof of that."

Harlett, at this moment, was like a wise old mentor, directly pointing out the fatal mistakes the other had made.

Just as he said.

In Faerun, a land filled with dragons, magic, monsters, bandits, and all sorts of evil forces, a merchant guild couldn't grow and prosper on profit alone.

Smart merchants would cooperate with powerful local organizations, such as the Mages' Guild, or the Thieves' Guild, or even the temple of a powerful deity.

Cooperating with them often served to deter those lurking in the shadows with malicious intent.

At the very least, they would spend money to hire adventurers and mercenaries to escort them.

But there was nothing of the sort on the captured merchant ship.

Only a group of laborers and sailors whose combat effectiveness was practically negligible.

Upon hearing this, Bernard's expression turned extremely grim. He retorted emotionally, "What do you know! Do you think I don't want to? To earn more profit, to win my father's approval, to defeat my siblings, I had to cut costs to the bone!"

Harlett chuckled and shook his head, "See, that's the most ridiculous and foolish part.

Every year, you work tirelessly, handing over the money you earned at great personal risk to the guild.

Then, your father would take a portion of that money and give it to your competing siblings, allowing them to seek new trade routes and explore new markets.

And them?

They always carefully hide their profits and use them to forge alliances, recruit, and build forces that obey only them.

In the end, some of them are still not satisfied and want to kill you to take your place.

Remember, never hand over the right to decide your fate to anyone, not even your own father.

Do you recall the motto of the merchants of Athkatla?

A merchant who has wealth but no power is pathetic, for he becomes a fat lamb in everyone's eyes.

Power is never given; it must be seized with your own hands."

It had to be said, "Bloodhand" Harlett was an exceptionally intelligent man with unique insights. In just a few sentences, he left Bernard speechless. The young man seemed to have suffered a tremendous blow, appearing both dejected and dispirited.

Because this young merchant knew that not a single word the other spoke was untrue.

After a long silence, Bernard seemed to resign himself to his fate. He looked up and asked with a bitter smile, "Can you tell me who betrayed this shipment? What conditions did they offer you?"

"Sorry, I can't.

I am a man of my word.

Since I promised to keep all my partners' information confidential, I naturally cannot reveal any useful details.

However, you are not entirely without hope.

If the client this time fails to fulfill their promise, then, as per custom, I will sign a new contract with you.

At that time, our relationship will change from enemies to allies, and you will have an opportunity for revenge.

Alright, relax. I'm not going to kill you yet, so there's no need to despair.

Come, have something to eat and drink. I'm sure you must be hungry and thirsty by now."

With that, "Bloodhand" Harlett pushed the seafood stew, hardtack, and wine cup in front of him forward, then made a gesture of invitation.

It was clear that he was in a very good mood at the moment, even displaying a certain noble demeanor, bearing, and knowledge.

After all, in Faerun, knowledge had always been a very expensive and luxurious commodity.

Ordinary people could barely secure their basic livelihoods, let alone have opportunities for education.

Only the wealthy merchants and the noble class could afford to hire private tutors or study at the expensive academies in the big cities.

This alone was enough to suggest that the pirate captain was likely of noble birth.

Gulp!

Looking at the food and drink before them, the four captives swallowed in unison, their stomachs growling uncontrollably.

Having not eaten anything all day, nor even had a single drop of water, they couldn't resist such temptation.

Just as Bernard cautiously reached out to pick up the now-cold stew, a voice suddenly came from behind him.

"Don't touch that bowl, and don't put anything inside it into your mouth if you don't want to die."

Instantly!

Everyone present, including the pirates, turned their gaze towards the dark bushes from which the voice had come.

After about ten seconds, a human warrior, wearing a helmet, chainmail, holding a short sword in one hand and a shield in the other, appeared within their line of sight.

"Who are you? What did you mean by that just now? Did my missing crewmen die by your hand?" Harlett questioned, narrowing his eyes.

At the same time, his pirate crewmen picked up their weapons and surrounded the stranger who had suddenly appeared from both sides.