The Mistsea Trading Company was always coming up with fresh ways to amaze the people of Kakhovka.
For months, its antics had revolved around creating one business miracle after another. It had promised to make a hundred millionaires here, turn Bernier into the financial capital of the Old Continent, and hand out benefits to Kakhovka's citizens every now and then.
In short, not everyone in Kakhovka liked this fellow Ivankov, but everyone knew who he was.
His name had come up again and again over the past few months, and had even become a curious kind of "cultural symbol."
Those who liked him adored him; those who hated him despised him.
The two sides had formed their own factions and treated each other as enemies. They regularly broke into flame wars, and the most zealous supporters and most deranged haters would even start brawls in alleyways over a single insult aimed at Mr. Ivankov.
It was ridiculous, yet more and more players following the situation in Kakhovka were commenting, "I can't believe the damn fan-club effect exists in another world, too."
But today, the Mistsea Trading Company had pulled off a truly spectacular stunt on the people of Kakhovka.
The news that "that bastard Ivankov had run off with the money" swept through Bernier's streets like a whirlwind. Almost everyone was talking about it, and supporters and detractors could be seen scrapping in the streets every so often. No one cared about their mental state anymore.
A great many people were rushing toward the port district. Some just wanted to watch the show, but most clutched their "investment-return calculators" and looked frantic.
The darkest joke of all was that Bernier's biggest "Ivankov hater" was currently racing toward the port in a carriage, his face pale.
He didn't want this!
He