You, cannot help

From Mardi, Zul'ra learned of the latest situation between the Alliance and the Horde. The Horde seemed unwilling to accept defeat, with many remnants of Orcs and Trolls still entrenched near Blackrock Mountain, and some Orcs even launching surprise attacks on the Alliance from the Dark Portal. However, Zul'ra knew clearly that this was merely a desperate struggle; the Old Horde was nothing without Orgrim.

Facing the frequent maneuvers of the Horde, the Alliance did not show weakness. Although the various kingdoms were not very responsive to the call of Lordaeron, under the summons of Marshal Turalyon, some militias were already preparing to enter the Dark Portal to counterattack Draenor.

Mardi shared a great deal of information, but this former Trade Prince still played his tricks. He concealed the fact that the critical supplies his fleet was transporting were weapons, fearing that the news of selling arms to the Alliance would anger the Trolls. However, his own subordinates had already sold him out.

Despite being deceived, Zul'ra did not hold Mardi's concealment against him, as it was pointless. He simply did not care about Goblins selling weapons to the Alliance; those green-skinned little runts were all capitalists, and capitalists had never possessed any integrity.

Inside Booty Bay, Zul'ra released Mardi and his men. For this, Mardi generously paid for their docking fees—a rare act of generosity for a Goblin—and loudly thanked Zul'ra as he departed.

"Thank you, Troll. You are the most broad-minded fellow I have ever met. Also, you are one of the tallest guys I've ever seen." Mardi attempted to hug Zul'ra, but after looking at the other's three-meter height and cold expression, he had to abandon the idea.

"Mardi, good luck!" Zul'ra watched the fellow, who was overjoyed to have escaped with his life, with a smirk that was not quite a smile.

"Good luck? Of course I'll have good luck." Mardi looked at the smirk on the Troll's heroic face and his expression faltered for a moment.

"No, I mean, I hope you can keep your own life. Good luck." Zul'ra said with a dark chuckle.

"What do you mean?" Mardi looked at the chuckling fellow, feeling a sudden sense of panic.

"No matter how great the capital, it will collapse in the face of violence. Gallywix will not let you go. The speed at which you make money will never be faster than the speed at which he pulls the trigger." Zul'ra looked down at the fat Goblin, baring his teeth in a cold sneer.

"Alright, I have said my piece. I hope we can meet again!" Zul'ra lifted his gaze to look at a massive Goblin statue within Booty Bay, cutting off the conversation. Mardi opened his mouth, but in the end, he could only lower his head and leave.

In Booty Bay, Zul'ra waited for his ship to be resupplied, planning to set sail the next day. Unexpectedly, that evening, Mardi returned to him alone, and upon meeting, he placed a shoe-box-sized chest in front of him and opened it.

"What are you doing?" Zul'ra looked at the almond-shaped gold coins in the wooden box, then at the lone Mardi.

"Help me. Just as you said, the speed at which I make money cannot keep up with that bastard's speed at pulling a trigger. My subordinates have all betrayed me, and my life is in danger at any moment." Mardi's face was covered in cold sweat.

"Sorry, I cannot help you. Just as your money-making speed cannot beat someone else's trigger speed, my broken ship has no way to contend with the capital of Gallywix, who has already become a Trade Prince. He easily destroyed your fleet, and I even feel that seeing you now is a mistake." Zul'ra looked at Mardi, unable to help but grin and shake his head.

"No, please, save me!" Seeing Zul'ra shake his head, Mardi was almost on the verge of tears.

"But I truly have no way." Zul'ra looked at the nearly weeping Goblin and could feel his despair, but what was the use? He was out of options too!

"Please, give me an idea. All these gold coins can be yours." Mardi clung to the straw like a drowning man.

"Then tell me, does the Bilgewater Cartel have any competitors or enemies? Anyone you can find right now." Zul'ra looked at the pleading Mardi and shifted his gaze slightly. If he refused this guy now, he would surely drag him down with him at all costs; it was better to just give him an idea.

"What do you mean?" Mardi looked at Zul'ra.

"The enemy of an enemy is a friend, or if not a friend, at least an ally. You are the former Trade Prince of the Bilgewater Cartel; the most valuable things you possess now are your business acumen and your knowledge of the Bilgewater Cartel. Your wealth is worthless." Zul'ra pointed a finger at Mardi.

"You have five fingers." Mardi looked at Zul'ra's hand, somewhat startled. He had only just realized that the fellow before him had five fingers, whereas Trolls should only have three.

"We've strayed from the topic." Zul'ra looked at the surprised fellow and reminded him in a heavy voice.

"Alright! Competitors of the Bilgewater Cartel... I can find some. Right, the Steamwheedle Cartel. Gazlowe of the Steamwheedle Cartel—he is a pirate and also a Goblin who would crave more wealth. However, he might not offend Gallywix for my sake; I hear they have a good relationship." Mardi's face turned bitter.

"That's just hearsay. And as you said, would a Goblin and a pirate refuse more wealth? You must use your eloquence to get Gazlowe to protect you first, then look for other breakthroughs. You have to take it one step at a time." Zul'ra looked at the bitter-faced Mardi and spread his hands.

"O-okay!" Hearing this, Mardi managed to steady his heart.

"Be careful. If you don't give it your all, you will be caught by Gallywix. When that happens, can you imagine what you'll look like?" Zul'ra looked at the barely composed Mardi with a smirk.

"I will definitely try my best." Mardi nodded repeatedly; if he didn't want to die, he had to try.

"Very good, leave here!" Zul'ra watched the frantic fellow, smiled, closed the wooden box on the table, and accepted the payment. As for whether Mardi could escape with his life, that would depend on his own ability.

"I... can I wait until dawn to leave?" Mardi looked at Zul'ra putting away the box of gold, feeling both heartbroken and terrified.

"No problem, but once dawn comes, I fear your tracks will be even more exposed to those prying eyes." Zul'ra looked at the frightened Mardi and shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

"B-but I'm scared." Mardi's face turned a dark shade of green.

"Then how about this! I will cast a spell on you to turn you into a bird, allowing you to fly to find Gazlowe. How about that?" Zul'ra looked at the dark-green-faced Goblin and lowered his gaze. He had to find a way to send this guy away quickly, or heaven knows if Gallywix would come here to cause an explosion.

"Good, good." Hearing Zul'ra's suggestion and imagining himself with a pair of wings, Mardi's eyes lit up. This would be the best outcome.

"Since that's the case, what are you waiting for? Let's go outside!" Zul'ra looked at the nodding Mardi and made his decision.