An Old Hand Falls

Yuri stared at the mountain of canned goods piled before him, his scalp prickling for the first time.

"This... all of it?"

"First batch, 5,000 tons. Come get more when you've sold it."

Hearing Fu Haoran's casual explanation, Yuri's first reaction was...

"Am I being played for a fool?"

He suppressed that absurd thought, keeping his face neutral. "One week. I'll bring the money."

One week later.

Yuri returned to the Governor's Office with the first payment: 800,000 Throne Coins, plus a pile of weapons and parts bartered in exchange.

"Not bad sales." Fu Haoran counted the supplies. "Next batch is ready, 10,000 tons."

Yuri froze. "How much?"

"10,000 tons. Any trouble?" Fu Haoran asked.

He has more?!

Yuri stared at Fu Haoran, trying to find a crack in that young face.

But there was nothing.

Could he... really have a secret supply source?

Impossible! Meat products of this quality—there's no second producer in the entire star sector.

He's definitely bluffing! Yeah, he's afraid I'll see through him, so he's putting up a front.

"N-No problem." Yuri gritted out.

Soon, Yuri noticed the next batch was even higher grade:

Braised pork belly, fermented black bean dace, honey-glazed ham, corn kernels, pineapple in syrup...

"Did he empty out an entire agricultural world's warehouse?!"

"Forget it... I'll take this batch. If I can sell it, I'll make enough money to last three lifetimes."

"By then, who cares where the supply comes from? I'll be long gone."

Another week passed.

When Yuri returned with the second payment, his steps were a little unsteady.

He'd barely slept this week.

He'd called in every old connection he could still reach, even swallowed his pride to beg a few small-timers he'd looked down on back in the day.

Concessions, profit-sharing, promises... he used every trick to move the goods.

And the moment they hit the market, they sold like crazy.

Canned goods on the black market skyrocketed to astronomical prices.

One can of luncheon meat for a laser rifle. One can of yellow peaches for three boxes of batteries.

The minor nobles of Mid-Hive sent people to buy in secret, offering prices that made Yuri's heart skip a beat.

He brought back 2,000,000 Throne Coins, plus a mountain of hard currency.

"Next batch, 50,000 tons. Pick it up tomorrow." Fu Haoran said.

This time, Yuri didn't freeze.

He smiled.

Just as I thought.

The first two batches already drained his stock. Now he's bluffing.

50,000 tons? If he actually has 50,000 tons, I'll wash my hair standing on my head!

The next day, the same warehouse.

When Yuri walked in, the smile on his face froze solid.

The warehouse was packed.

Not the neat shelves from before—truly packed.

Boxes stacked from floor to ceiling, leaving only narrow paths barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through.

"F-Fifty thousand tons... all here?" Yuri's voice trembled.

"That's right. All here."

Yuri said nothing, diving straight into the depths of the pile, prying open a few boxes at random.

Luncheon meat, kangaroo meat, seafood cans, vegetable cans... all genuine.

How is this possible... where the hell is he getting...

Suddenly, Yuri remembered Fu Haoran's casual remark from yesterday: "Come see the warehouse tomorrow."

He had this much stock all along.

He's been playing me.

Yuri felt a chill crawl down his spine.

"Can you arrange the channels now?" Fu Haoran asked.

"...I can." Yuri said it aloud, but his mind was already spinning its own schemes.

Run. I have to run as fast as I can.

But this shipment... fifty thousand tons. If I take it all, I'll make a number I don't even dare to think about.

One last job. Really, one last job, and then I'm gone.

Three weeks later.

When Yuri returned to the Governor's Office with the third batch of payment, he had visibly shrunk, the bloodshot veins in his eyes like spiderwebs.

Over the past two weeks, he had practically turned the Hive World's black market upside down.

Dirty channels he used to scorn, ruthless figures he used to fear, gray zones he used to avoid... he'd touched them all.

His reputation? Screw it.

Rules? A load of crap!

As long as he could move the goods, he'd do anything.

Killing the goose that laid the golden egg? So what!

Finally, the fifty thousand tons of canned goods were sold out!

Not only did the price of the cans not plummet, it held steady at an absurd level.

No one believed the supply of cans could be endless.

Besides, this amount wasn't even enough to fill the Hive World's belly, let alone satisfy the Rogue Trader's demands.

On the other side, Yuri stared at the dense figures on the data slate and finally broke into a satisfied smile.

One hundred and twenty million Throne Coins, plus these supplies—enough for me to run. This money could buy a spire in the Hive's mid-levels!

Now I just have to wait for this clueless Governor to approve it, and my plan enters its final stage!

Once I'm gone, the sky's the limit, and the sea's wide open!

He fixed his gaze on Fu Haoran, waiting to see how this young man would react.

Fu Haoran glanced at the data slate and nodded. "The accounts are clear."

Yuri felt a wave of relief.

Looks like he didn't catch the fake entry I smoothed over.

Then again, with this many transaction records, how could one person possibly cross-check them all?

That money's enough to buy a small estate on a fringe world and live the rest of my life in comfort.

"However..." Fu Haoran pulled up another set of data. "There's a discrepancy here—twelve million Throne Coins."

Yuri's heart skipped a beat.

"The flow's too messy. A few entries didn't align when I consolidated them. I'll go back and recheck," he said, forcing calm. "Too many transactions, some slip-ups are inevitable. I'll re-verify when I get back..."

"No need to recheck." Fu Haoran turned the data slate around, revealing a simple table. "Every batch shipped has a unique code, and every transaction is linked to its specific code."

"For example, the batch of fruit cans shipped last Thursday. The buyer was the Silverthorn Chamber of Commerce, but their payment records are missing that entry."

Yuri stood frozen, cold sweat soaking through his back.

System codes? Is this some Machine Cult trick? I've never heard of it. Why would the Machine Cult help him?

I've been cooking the books for thirty years, and today I'm tripped up by a single code!

Fu Haoran looked at him, his tone calm. "Make up the money, and this is over. You just got out, after all—first time doing business, some oversights are understandable."

Yuri opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

He had faked accounts for thirty years, fooling nobles, fooling the Adeptus Arbites, even fooling the Machine Cult's auditors.

This was the first time someone had stripped him bare with such a casual tone.

I've played the hawk my whole life... and in the end, a hawk pecked out my eye.

"...I'll make it up," Yuri heard himself say.

"By the way," Fu Haoran added. "From now on, when you ship goods, I'll send two people to accompany you."

"Not surveillance—protection. A lot of eyes are on this shipment now. You're not safe alone."

Yuri was silent for a full minute.

Then he bent down, picked up the data slate from the floor, and dusted it off.

"The next batch... five thousand tons... I'll need more time." Yuri's voice was drier than ever, like a beast drained of its soul.

"I'll give you two weeks."

"...Fine."

Yuri turned and walked away, his steps heavy.

[This guy... is nothing like the nouveau riche I thought he was!]

Yuri's lips twisted into a smile that was uglier than a grimace.

Fu Haoran watched Yuri's retreating back and pulled up his system panel.

[Finance Officer Yuri Razumov loyalty update: -99 → -30]

[Status: Changed from 'ready to flee at any moment' to 'hesitant and observing']

[Note: The host has proven the fundamental fiscal principle that 'what's yours is mine, and what's mine is still mine' through hard facts. Though the method was as crude as performing micro-sculpture with a power hammer... at least it was effective.]

"Finally on the right track." Just as Fu Haoran was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he had no idea someone had already set their sights on him.