Chapter 121: Foreign Laborers

In the eyes of Ming officials at the time, Dayuan was merely a barbaric, desolate island continent overseas, not a must-have contested territory like Penghu, where the government had already established an Inspection Office.

The Dutch were well aware of the Ming officials' attitude toward Dayuan. Yet the very moment the Dutch occupied Dayuan, they used the propaganda—a distortion of Ming officials' opinions—that "Dayuan is territory granted by the Ming Emperor to the Dutch East India Company" to suppress the Japanese, who were eyeing Dayuan covetously, and incidentally to hoodwink the Fujian immigrants there.

In other words, the Dutch first forcibly stuffed Dayuan into the Ming Emperor's lap with verbal cannon-fire, and then, through the sequence of claiming imperial authorization, straightened out the logical relationship and established the legal basis for their occupation of Dayuan.

Historically, the Dutch indeed used this kind of false propaganda to establish their claim of ownership over Dayuan.

However, in this plane of the Transmigrators, the Dutch suddenly discovered today... they had been trapped by their own invented theory.

... If they had admitted from the start that Dayuan was an unclaimed land, then Mr. Nuytz could at least have, like Van der Hagen did back then, invoked the international convention of "first come, first served," and then used the Shang Hall as evidence to squeeze a bit more territorial transfer fee out of the Transmigrators—this logic would hold.

Yet precisely because, after the Dutch had deliberated, Nuytz had absorbed Van der Hagen's past lesson, he this time brought out the stale trope of "imperial grant," prepared to fleece something off the Transmigrators.

And then he was slapped in the face by a simple deed—a land title document issued by the Ming Emperor which, according to the Dutch's own propaganda, absolutely must exist.

Looking at the mocking eyes of the several "Kunlun People" across the negotiation table, Nuytz knew that his trick of claiming sovereignty over a territory without any written evidence had been seen through by the other party; these clearly well-educated, law-and-convention-versed descendants of nobility were thorough civilized people, not those natives who still used ropes to record history.

"I hate all exiled nobles!" Realizing that further entanglement would only make him look more like a clown, Mr. Nuytz could only vent his gloomy mood with a muttered whisper—since returning to Dayuan three days ago, not a single thing had gone smoothly; these heretics had designed every link, and he felt like a cat locked in a cage. God, this feeling was truly terrible.

After the project they were most confident of muddling through failed, the subsequent commercial project negotiations became surprisingly uneventful. Everyone was a merchant; when it came to goods and money, they all acted very professionally, without so many ideological topics to exploit.

The Red Hair team did not make too many demands in this regard; they had neither cash nor trade goods, so their discourse power was limited. Fortunately, the other party's previously promised condition of filling their warehouses with Ming goods remained unchanged; for Nuytz and his men, this was already the optimal solution.

The Transmigrators, attempting to play the long game to catch a big fish, did not set high prices on sought-after goods either; factoring in loan interest, the price of raw silk was basically on par with the Japanese. This fit well with the carters' trade requirement of moving goods worldwide, so after slightly adjusting the variety and quantity of goods, the Dutch concluded this negotiation item with great satisfaction.

Cai Feiming then stood up first, smiling as he invited the Dutch to have a cup of relaxing tea. Honestly, if he weren't the only one who spoke Dutch, he would have delegated this unchallenging task to his deputy: negotiations where you know the other party's every bottom line truly held no sense of accomplishment.

The Dutch certainly would never have imagined that the beautiful plate of wrought-iron flowers on the guest room table, with that dark, blackish pistil stem inserted right in the middle, was actually a wireless microphone—high fidelity with noise reduction, exquisite sound quality, the same model Feng Timo used.

After finishing a cup of relaxing tea and returning to the negotiation table, the Dutch received the list of demanded goods Cai Feiming handed over: the very first item on the list was the phrase "Foreign Laborers," written in Dutch.

Nuytz first thought for a moment, then exchanged a whisper with Van der Hagen sitting beside him. Only after this did he ask cautiously, "Slaves?"

"Cough..." Cai Feiming coughed a few times, organized his wording, and then said with an air of righteous solemnity: "If your esteemed side insists on such phrasing, then as a friendly cooperative partner, in the spirit of mutual respect, our side will not forcibly demand that your esteemed side alter your customary terminology."

... Nuytz's expression was somewhat blank. After staring dumbly for a minute, he slowly opened his mouth and, with a constipated look, said: "I am now firmly convinced that you are the descendants of the ancient nobility of this ancient land in the East, my dear Cai. Because only such nobles would powder their faces before going out, and never forget to touch up their powder anytime, anywhere—just like those nobles in the Netherlands."

"Our side thanks your esteemed side for the compliment." Cai Feiming could only forcibly keep a straight face at this moment, pretending not to have understood Nuytz's sarcasm.

"Oh ho ho, very well, let us look at the conditions." Having finally struck back at these hypocritical yellow-skinned nobles once, Mr. Nuytz was now in excellent spirits. He tapped the list with his finger and then asked: "Sla... very well, must these foreign laborers all be adult males? Or can they be male or female?"

"We only require robust adult males. Skin color and race are not considerations. Of course, their nationality cannot be Ming."

"What? Skin color and race are not considerations?"

Mr. Nuytz, who had appeared languid ever since seeing the price for the "Foreign Laborers" on the list, now saw a blur of golden stars before his eyes, as if a surging river of gold were flowing past him.

Nuytz, who had served as a private Clerk in Amsterdam, was all too familiar with the conditions of the Slave Trade: by seizing the Portuguese colonies and strongholds in West Africa, the Dutch had established a series of forts there in recent years.

Every year, trade ships would Depart from Amsterdam, using the goods on board to exchange for large batches of Slaves from the Dutch Guinea Company and the Dutch West India Company, then transport all the Slaves to the Americas.

The boarding price for a robust young black slave was 390 Dutch Guilders, roughly equivalent to 100 taels of Silver, while the CIF price upon crossing the Ocean to Virginia was 2000 Guilders, equivalent to 500 taels of Silver—a profit of 600%. This was still the "goods" price of the early 17th Century; what Nuytz did not know was that, 100 years later, the above figures would double, and the final profit would reach over 800%.

Of course, the high costs were also amortized into the high profits mentioned above. Under normal circumstances, as long as one out of three slave ships could successfully cross the Ocean and reach Virginia, and the death toll of Slaves on board did not exceed two-thirds, the slave trader would reap substantial returns.

In the list provided by the Transmigrators, the purchase price for each "Foreign Laborer" was clearly marked, and at first glance it seemed very low: 250 taels of Silver per person.