Just like that, a meeting that might have erupted into fierce conflict reached a consensus in no time.
It might have sounded ridiculous, but when the three major fleets and six major banks had made their decisions, the bigwigs of the Standard Shipping Association certainly didn't want to be the last fortress standing.
After all, in any field, the most stubborn fortress was always the one that fell hardest. Capitalists were certainly greedy, but they were also experts at bending with the wind.
Still, the business leaders present couldn't make heads or tails of it. Hadn't they agreed to be wicked capitalists together, and to never lose face? Hadn't they agreed to resist the government's tyranny together? So why had the fleet and bank representatives voted in favor?
After the meeting adjourned, once Amyda Berenkester's projection had vanished from the conference room, one of the directors called out to Astri, who was also preparing to leave. He didn't care that some of his fellow board members were still there; right then and there, he humbled himself as much as he could.
"Lord Astri, for old Maide's sake—after all I've done for the Aenor family—please show me the way!"
The Aenor family's chubby young heir didn't seem at all uncomfortable being addressed with such deference by someone old enough to be his grandfather. He merely gave the man an amused look and smiled. "We only hold some shares in your company. Ours is a perfectly legitimate business partnership, with no personal ties of subordination. There's no reason for you to humble yourself like this."
"I'm only expressing my gratitude." The old director kept up a smile as servile as a butler's.
If he walked out that door, reporters from every major financial outlet in the Alliance would be falling over themselves