The speculator

Lumian pulled up a chair and sat down, smiling as he said to Count Puyver, "It's my honor."

After saying that, he made a gesture as if he were going to invite Alois That One.

Count Puyver, wearing a red shirt, waved his hand:

"Wait until she finishes playing this movement."

Lumian turned around and glanced at the piano, finally getting a clear look That One Miss Alois:

With soft, reddish-brown eyebrows, bright, brownish Eyes, and slightly chubby cheeks, her features were gentle. She was a girl under twenty years old and did not show any obvious traces of the Sauron Family.

According to Puyfer's introduction, Alois should belong to the Sauron Family on her maternal line.

Lumian turned around, picked up a glass of red, white and blue Three-Color Liqueur from the Coffee Table, and chatted with Count Puyver, novelist Anoli and others about recent popular topics and gossip in the circle.

During this period, he had been buying newspapers such as "Novel Weekly," "The Debate," and "Trier Youth," as well as magazines like "Grimace," to improve his "self-cultivation" in order to deal with similar situations.

That One dark-haired Lady who had been squatting next to Count Puyver had stood up and moved to another spot to watch several newspaper editors play billiards.

Lumian knew that she was definitely not the Countess of Count Puyver, because Aurora had once told him that in Trier, it was customary for the host and hostess to not appear together Ball such small salons and limited balls, otherwise it would give the guests the unpleasant feeling that they were showing off their affection in a vulgar way, which would be Dignity if word got out. Therefore, when the host or hostess held a salon, his spouse would attend someone else's salon.

When Lumian first heard about this, he was not yet fifteen years old. He just thought the people of Trier had a lot of rules. Now, looking back, he only has one thought:

You Trier people have developed such absurd and Jester unspoken rules to make having affairs easier, and everyone is happy to abide by them!

As one movement ended, Alois left the piano and went to the sofa area. Introduced by her cousin, she met Lumian, pulled over a Bar Stool, sat down with her legs together, and quietly listened to everyone chatting.

As time went on, others gathered in this direction, and Laurent followed behind a middle-aged man with a handsome beard and dressed in a casual suit.

"This is Cornell, the editor-in-chief of ' The Little Trierian, '" Count Puyver introduced Lumian.

Lumian had seen the newspaper; the advertisement for "The Interstellar Bridge to the Crimson Moon" was in it.

Now, recalling the advertisement, he not only thinks it might be a scam or Trier Performance Art, but also suspects it involved followers of some Evil God.

"This is Charles Dubois, the general manager of the Coast Import and Export Company," Puyfer told Cornell, referring to the identity Gardner Martin had forged for Lumian.

Cornell, slightly taken aback, extended his right hand:

"Very young."

Lumian shook his hand and said with a smile, "This is a reward for my hard work and diligent study."

Just as the Poet Ilett was about to mutter that most people here study hard and work diligently, yet none of them become general managers of large companies at a young age, Lumian added in a self-deprecating tone, "It's precisely because I excel in both areas that my father appointed me as the general manager of the import-export company."

After a moment of stunned silence, everyone present understood what Lumian meant and burst into laughter.

Their impression of Charles Dubois improved considerably.

In their circle, there are many people who, thanks to their parents' influence, have taken important positions at a very young age. These people are either extremely sensitive about others mentioning their parents or elders in front of them, and feel compelled to demonstrate their so-called abilities, or they lack confidence and maturity, constantly talking about how great their father is or how great their uncle is. Very few people can be as generous, frank, humorous, and unpretentious as Lumian. Count Puyver from back then could barely be considered one.

After using the humor she'd learned from her Older Sister to make everyone laugh, Lumian deliberately looked at Laurent and asked, "And who is this?"

Thump, thump, Laurent's heart pounded rapidly.

Although the two had reached an agreement not to reveal each other's true identities, he lacked sufficient understanding of Charles Dubois, the Gang leader, and feared that the other party might suddenly change his mind.

Cornell, the editor-in-chief of * the Little Trierian *, pointed to the young man beside him:

"Laurent is very talented, knowledgeable, and polite. I've been observing him for almost three months and I'm planning to Hiring him as my assistant, as Deputy Editor-in-Chief. Laurent, what do you think? I'm making this sudden invitation; would you be willing to accept?"

Laurent was first startled, then overwhelmed with immense joy, and felt a little dizzy.

He swallowed his Pain and unease, endured his mother's weeping and the neighbors' scorn—wasn't this the day he had been waiting for?

He always believed that with his talent, he shouldn't have ended up at the bottom of society. He was always looking for opportunities, even if it meant exploiting his mother to maintain Dignity of respectability.

Laurent didn't let himself appear too excited, and responded to editor-in-chief Cornell with a smile:

"It's my pleasure."

Sure, speculation is risky, but the potential returns are also considerable. However, if you don't change your mindset and start working hard from your current position, and instead keep thinking about speculating to improve your social status, you'll lose everything sooner or later... Lumian recalled some of her Older Sister's words when she lost money in the stock market, and considering the current situation, she mentally commented on Laurent's behavior.

Unlike Charlie and the others, he despised this opportunistic behavior of exploiting mothers. As long as Laurent's mother was accepting and didn't hire anyone to beat her son or show strong resistance, he didn't think much of it.

After Cornell and the others were seated, Lumian asked curiously, "Where did you and Laurent meet?"

"At Vichy Café," Cornell replied with a smile. "He came often to chat with us about Trier and share his opinions."

Vichy Café, the place where you could only buy half a bottle of natural water and two boiled eggs for 5 Felkine? Laurent's mother, Mrs. Lacazan, couldn't even earn 3 Felkine after a whole day's work... However, the investment had paid off. Managing a newspaper of the size of "The Little Trierian," even as Deputy Editor-in-Chief, even as a newcomer, meant an income of nearly 5,000 Felkine a year—and that was just the public income... Lumian compared the Change before and after and felt that Laurent's insistence on cultivating connections through speculation had its own reasons.

However, out of a hundred people who do this, it would be considered good if even one succeeds.

Lumian glanced at Laurent, who was warily glancing at him, and changed the subject with a smile:

"Cornell, I saw an ad for ' Interstellar Bridge ' in the Little Trierian last month, or even earlier, and I thought it was quite interesting. Do you know anything about it?"

Cornell took a Pipe his pipe and chuckled, "I think they're a bunch of delusional people, but since they paid for it, I can't stop them from running the ads. Maybe it'll fool some die-hard Mechanical Science enthusiasts."

"How are they doing now?" Lumian chuckled. "I'm even thinking of investing some money in them to see if they're just Swindler or if they can actually do something."

The Poet Ilett picked up his pipe and muttered, "You might as well sponsor me instead of investing in them. At least you can call my writing Dog Shit, and I won't argue with you."

"No problem, how about five thousand Felkine?" Lumian said, acting as if money was no object.

He planned to use the excuse of not having enough Cash to give Ilett only 3,000 Felkine.

Ilett put down his opium pipe and opened his arms:

"Praise the Sun, and let the Charles's malice rage even more fiercely!"

"Haha, after the salon, let's go back to the old town together." Lumian implied that he would definitely sponsor it later, but he wasn't giving it directly now to avoid seeming too mercenary.

After this incident, Cornell became much more enthusiastic towards Lumian:

"I don't know how those people are doing now; they only ran ads for one month."

After chatting for a while, Count Puyver glanced at the setting Sun, looked around, and suggested with a smile, "How about we play the King Cake Game? It'll be a warm-up before dinner."

Is this the only game you know? Did you even have a childhood?... Lumian only thought to himself, without objecting.

The others followed suit, Count Puyver immediately had his servants bring out the enormous King Cake that the kitchen had prepared long ago.

It was like the lid of a stew pot, placed directly on the silver plate, exuding an enticing color and aroma.

"Who will be in charge of Cutting?" Count Puyver's gaze swept over each Participant.

He pondered for a moment and said, "Alois, come here. You are the youngest and most beautiful Lady here."

Alois, who was sitting on the Bar Stool next to Lumian, nimbly jumped down, picked up a knife, and began to cut the King Cake.

Does she listen to her cousin so readily? Does she rely on the Sauron Family and Count Puyver for survival? Lumian noticed that Alois was quite skilled and often played with a knife.

Soon, the enormous King Cake was roughly divided into twenty-nine pieces.

As before, Count Puyff suggested offering the extra piece of cake to his ancestor, Vermonda Soren, and no one objected.

After this part of the Ritual was completed, the entire living room became extremely quiet, and the area outside the Castle seemed to freeze in time.

"Laurent, this is your first time attending my Saturday salon, so you Charles will be the first to choose." Count Puyver turned his gaze to Lumian and Laurent.

Lumian laughed heartily, "Of course, the master will choose first, don't you all agree?"

At his urging, the other Participant also agreed that the male host should start.

Count Puyver no longer declined, picked up a piece of the King Cake, and said to everyone, "Whoever bites into the Gold Coin is the king."

Seeing that the member of the Sauron Family had finished his selection, Lumian felt more at ease and leaned out to look for a target.

This was a double insurance strategy—first, he let Count Puyver choose, and then, with a considerable number of cakes remaining, he would take advantage of Termiboros's aversion to the matter to select the cakes without Gold Coin.

This time, Termiboros didn't offer any warning, and Lumian naturally picked up the King Cake he had chosen.

Future sit down properly, his mind suddenly went blank, and he seemed to see that narrow Glass Window again, and the dark red-haired man who had gouged out his own eyes.