"Mr. Bach, your generosity is truly... impressive."
Caroline's voice was calm. She stood up, her slender fingers brushing lightly over the acquisition proposal on the table, sweeping away dirt that wasn't there.
Her emerald eyes swept over everyone present, including Duncan, who claimed to be a friend of her father's.
"I admit that the Golden Sail Merchant Guild has run into some trouble. And the rumors circulating outside aren't entirely groundless."
This unexpected admission of weakness instantly changed the atmosphere in the hall.
The creditors stirred, while Bach's face took on the pitying smile only a victor had the right to wear. He believed this proud little lioness was finally about to bow her haughty head.
Caroline ignored their reactions and paced slowly, the hem of her gown rippling like water across the polished marble floor. With each step, the long lines of her legs, wrapped in nude stockings, occasionally came into view, drawing the eyes of every man present, including Bach's unabashed stare.
"Our ships have indeed been infested by a kind of... unprecedented 'alchemical organism.'"
She stopped before the enormous stained-glass window, her back to everyone, with just the right amount of weariness in her voice.
"We've tried many methods, but the results... have admittedly been less than satisfactory."
Duncan's face filled with distress, and he stepped forward.
"Caroline, my child, there's still time to cut your losses. Mr. Bach's terms may be harsh, but..."
"Harsh?" Bach interrupted Duncan with an exaggerated laugh. "Mr. Duncan, I'm doing a good deed! I'm salvaging this lady's last shred of dignity! Otherwise, within a month, there won't be a single intact plank left of the Golden Sail Merchant Guild's ships in Wrong Anchor Harbor! By then, those debt contracts in your hands really will be nothing but wastepaper!"
No sooner had Bach finished than a small commotion arose at the back of the hall.
A banker's attendant hurried to his master's side and urgently whispered something in his ear. The banker's expression shifted slightly. He glanced suspiciously out the window, then at the still-calm Caroline.
That subtle change was like a pebble dropped into a pond, sending ripples spreading outward.
Soon, others began receiving news from outside, one after another, and their whispers gradually merged into a subdued buzz.
Just then, the council hall's heavy oak doors were suddenly flung open with a crash.
This time, it was Bach's own trusted aide who rushed in. Without even stopping to bow, he stumbled before his master and shouted breathlessly, "Sir! Something's wrong! The Golden Sail Merchant Guild's people... they've gone mad! They're pouring some foul-smelling green slime into the harbor, barrel after barrel!"
Hope gradually dawned on the creditors' faces. Could there be a way out?
Bach froze for a moment, then knitted his brows, a flicker of confusion crossing his face.
His superior had shared some information about "Calamity" with him. It was a disaster beyond remedy.
But he was no fool, either. Instinctively, he felt something was wrong.
He turned toward the crowd behind him and barked, "Sea Wolf!"
The scarred, one-eyed captain stepped forward. He dared not look Caroline in the eye, his gaze shifting evasively.
"Do you think there's any potion that could deal with those shipworms?"
Sea Wolf paused, then snatched a cup of liquor from a nearby table and drained it in one gulp. He smashed the cup against the floor and roared, his eyes bloodshot.
"A potion? What fucking potion can cure a devil? I watched those things chew through the Strong Spirits' keel like sugarcane! The alchemist burned them with the fiercest Dragonfire Oil, and they just wriggled a couple of times in the flames, like they were taking a hot bath. The Tears of the Siren are poisonous enough, aren't they? One drop can kill a whale shark. We poured out an entire barrel, and those things burrowed into the wood and were perfectly fine! Those aren't worms. They're devils! They're the doom of every last one of us who sails the seas!"
Sea Wolf took a couple of ragged breaths, his voice growing colder. "Pouring potions into the sea? Ha! The sea dilutes everything. Even a three-year-old knows that. That's no medicine. She's worried they haven't eaten enough, so she's giving them dessert! She's mad! This woman has gone completely mad! She wants to drag all of us down to the grave with her fleet!"
Those words dealt a devastating blow. If even a seasoned old captain was this hopeless, it surely meant the Golden Sail Merchant Guild's dying struggle was doomed to fail.
The creditors' faces paled again.
Bach's doubts vanished at once, and he burst into loud, wild laughter.
"Ha ha ha ha! So that's it! My poor Caroline, this is your last resort? Grasping at straws? Do you think you're begging for the Sea God's blessing?"
He turned toward the ashen-faced creditors and spread his arms as though embracing the Blackstone Hand's victory.
"Now, you've all heard him, haven't you?"
"Sign it!" Bach pointed at the acquisition proposal on the table and delivered his final ultimatum to every creditor. "Sign this agreement and take your money! Otherwise, stay here with this madwoman and watch her personally destroy your collateral with a ridiculous barrel of herbs!"
Not a sound remained in the hall. Every gaze settled on Caroline. They were all waiting for this cornered lioness to submit.
Slowly, Caroline reached out with her silk-gloved hand and picked up the acquisition proposal Bach had tossed onto the table.
Had this lioness finally admitted defeat? Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
But she neither reached for a pen nor read its contents.
Instead, she leisurely fanned herself with the document, as though the hot air radiating from the gloating scoundrels in the hall had left her feeling stifled.
Rain slid down the enormous stained-glass window, forming blurred, distorted streaks of light behind her that made her seem almost unreal.
There was no breakdown on her face, no anger, and no despair.
She raised her head, looked at Bach, whose fleshy face was creased with laughter, and spoke with a smile.
"Mr. Bach, do you know what the most pathetic way to die in this world is?"
Bach faltered and asked reflexively, "What is it?"
"A shipwrecked sailor quenching his thirst with seawater."
"Those shipworms you believe impervious to water and fire finding a delicacy they can't digest, yet have an endless supply of..."
She flung the acquisition proposal toward the ceiling. The pages scattered and fluttered down everywhere.
She extended a slender index finger and gently pressed it against her luscious red lips, an eerie, cruel light gleaming in her emerald eyes.
Bach and the others stared, spellbound. Though her behavior was deeply discourteous, none could bear to interrupt the Silver-Haired Witch in this moment of breathtaking, bewitching beauty.
"And you and your allies buying up all the shipping capacity on the market at the highest possible price."
"Now wait until you choke on it, you greedy, stupid pig."