Chapter 2925

The night was deep. In the bedroom of a small two-story building, a pot-bellied, middle-aged fat man leaned against the head of the bed, having already entered the "sage mode." His name was Fland, and he was the vice president of the Li Jin Bank on Saint Merrow Island.

The concept of a bank had only appeared within the last dozen years or so, and it had flourished shortly after its inception. Of course, this was inextricably linked to the strong support of the Empire behind the scenes.

It was only five years ago that the Empire allowed private ownership of banks, and various laws regarding private banks were subsequently introduced.

Fland was among the first to rake in gold, and he was also the most successful. He recalled that at a banquet a few days ago, the president of the Imperial Bank had taken the initiative to walk over to him and chat with him with a smile. Whenever he recalled this, he felt as if he were floating on air.

Other private bank presidents were full of flattery when they saw that big shot, but Fland was different. Because he relied on the wealth in his hands, he had befriended many high-ranking generals of the Royal Navy, and every year he provided funding to these naval generals in the name of the Empire.

Note that it was funding in the name of the Empire; those gold coins would first be taken over by the Empire in the name of taxes, and then reach the various naval generals.

It wasn't that Fland didn't want to give the gold coins directly to those naval generals, but he couldn't do so. With the behemoth of the Empire standing there, a vice president of a private bank actually dared to directly fund the Royal Navy? Did he not want to live? Or was he planning to unite with these naval generals to overthrow the Empire? Any one of these charges placed on Fland's head would be enough for him to die hundreds of times over.

Fland's approach was very clever; it not only eased the Empire's economic pressure and avoided touching the Empire's majesty, but it also allowed him to befriend the naval generals.

For such merchants, the high-level officials of the Empire and the generals of the Royal Navy were very fond of them, opening doors of convenience and allowing Fland to make money so that everyone could have a share of the meat.

Although Fland was the vice president of Li Jin Bank, in reality, he was the true owner of Li Jin Bank. The so-called president was just a scapegoat he pushed out; it was a high-risk profession, often kidnapped by pirates who wanted money but not their lives.

Fland saw it clearly: in this chaotic Demon Sea, having a hard fist was everything. He was just a merchant, and too much wealth was a disaster for him. Those naval officers or pirates with extraordinary powers could kill him silently.

While Fland was sighing with emotion, a drop of fresh blood appeared out of thin air, as if flying out from another dimension. This blood touched Fland's hand, but he did not notice it.

Everything around him seemed to start becoming illusory; this feeling was somewhat like a dream, yet it also had a sense of reality.

Fland looked at the beautiful socialite walking out. His gaze was very calm; having just entered "sage mode," he was naturally this tough.

"I'm sleepy. I'll talk to Rear Admiral Murray tomorrow morning."

Fland let out a long sigh. He was over 40 years old, and because he was quite lustful—though it was all consensual—Fland's flabby body couldn't quite handle it, leading to severe physical weakness. He had visited various witches, but all to no avail. Extraordinary power could help him recover his increasingly weak body, but to carry extraordinary power, one needed a sufficiently strong body; otherwise, death was certain.

Fland could not get his hands on those extraordinary items and potions that could be used without a strong body. Those things weren't even enough for the rulers of the Empire to share, let alone his turn as a merchant.

Drip~

A cold water droplet landed on Fland's face. He shivered from the cold and looked up at the ceiling.

"Ah!!"

A scream spread out, echoing in the night sky for a long time.

Bang.

The bedroom door was kicked open, and several naval soldiers rushed into the room. Two of them jumped onto the bed, crouching to the left and right of Fland, while the others guarded the door and windows.

"Mr. Fland, what happened to you?"

"Ah!"

Fland, huddled in the quilt, poked his head out. Seeing that they were naval soldiers, he relaxed, his whole body drenched in sweat, nearly collapsing from exhaustion.

"There's a ghost—no, no, no, it's a monster! Quickly, take me away from here!"

Fland, as if seeing a savior, grabbed the arm of the naval soldier beside him.

"There's a monster? What kind of monster?"

The naval soldier looked puzzled.

"It's just..."

Fland's words were halfway out when his body stiffened, his eyes filled with terror.

"Is it like this?"

The naval soldier crouching on the bed gave a weird smile. His head bloomed open, and black tentacles covered in eyes stretched out.

"Ya!!"

Fland, as if possessed by his own wife, let out a scream, his hands still shielding his chin.

Puchi.

The black tentacles swallowed Fland, and everything turned to darkness.

With a "whoosh," Fland sat up from the bed, his whole body covered in cold sweat, panting like an ox. The dream that had felt so real just now left him a bit drained.

"So it was a dream. It scared me to death."

"Hmm~? Mr. Fland, what's wrong with you?"

A lazy voice came from the side. A beautiful socialite sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"It's nothing, I had a nightmare."

"A nightmare?"

The socialite turned her back to Fland. In the next instant, with a crisp "crack," the socialite's head turned 180 degrees, facing Fland.

Seeing this scene, Fland felt a warmth in his crotch; while wetting the bed in fear, he fainted directly.

In a daze, Fland suddenly opened his eyes. It was still the familiar bedroom, and beside him was still the familiar socialite.

"Ha!"

Fland let out a shout and kicked the socialite off the bed. The frail socialite fell down along with the quilt, and she sat up in a daze.

"Mr. Fland?"

"You, you, you... don't come over here."

"Eh?"

The socialite was completely confused, then felt aggrieved in her heart and turned her head away.

"I..."

Fland shook his head and took out a gold coin from the clothes nearby.

"I just had a dream, anyway... it's very complicated. Take this gold coin and leave."

"Wuwuwu~"

The socialite covered her face and cried, tears gushing out from between her fingers—yes, gushing, like a faucet with the valve opened.

Seeing this scene, Fland lay on the bed, eyes closed. It's a dream, it's all a dream.

Soon, Fland was drowned by tears, and the nightmare continued.

The next morning, Fland sat up from the bed. After having nightmares all night, he was surprisingly energetic, without the fatigue he had imagined, but he was very hungry, hungry enough to eat half a cow.

After calling for breakfast, Fland began to feast. For some reason, today's breakfast was exceptionally delicious, and the flavors were much more distinct.

After enjoying the meal, Fland was puzzled. He always felt that his body was much lighter, as if he were ten years younger.

This sudden change made Fland happy from the bottom of his heart, but soon, he discovered a note on the bedside table, which read:

"Fland, with your current physique, living to over 120 years old will be no problem, provided you don't die in an accident. As a price, nightmares will accompany you."

Seeing this note, Fland was both afraid and happy. He could feel that his body had indeed improved, but last night's nightmare...

Last night, Fland had been scared into fainting 12 times and wetting himself twice. If it weren't for his rich life experience, he might have been embarrassed enough to cry last night.

"Payment and harvest."

Fland paced in the room. He often used such methods on his subordinates, but today he experienced it himself. He had to admit that this method was really effective; he was firmly held in their grasp, far more clever than threatening him after kidnapping him.

Fland was certain that he could get rid of the nightmares, but he would have to pay a price. First, he thought that this matter was not Rear Admiral Murray; the person who did this simply didn't care about overt retaliation.

"Not Rear Admiral Murray, nor pirates. Is it some witch? No, witches don't have the guts to treat me like this."

Fland eliminated the targets in his heart one by one. Soon, he recalled one thing: last night, Rear Admiral Murray left in a hurry on his way to meet him. Through the power of gold coins, Fland knew that Rear Admiral Murray was going to meet a legendary existence—the captain of the Doom.

"It wouldn't be... targeted by that person, would it?"

Fland shivered. To climb to his current position, intelligence channels were essential. He had previously received news that the legendary figure had slaughtered the Shipwreck Island yesterday, killing everyone related to the pirates without exception. The ruthlessness of the methods alone made a chill rise from the bottom of Fland's heart just by imagining it.

Fland hesitated again and again, and finally decided that wealth is sought in danger. He didn't lack wealth, and having a healthy body to enjoy wealth was an irresistible temptation for him.

Refusing the protection of the naval soldiers, Fland took his few guards to the beach by the coast. Upon reaching the beach, he drove all the guards away.

Waves lapped at the beach, and a layer of ice drifted over. Fland hesitated for a moment, but finally waded through the seawater and climbed onto the ice.

The ice suddenly accelerated, and the wind pressure made Fland unable to open his eyes. He felt something grab his shoulder and fly up with him.

When Fland's feet touched the ground again, he was already standing on the deck of a large ship.

"Welcome aboard the Doom, Fland."

Baha landed on the top of the captain's cabin. On the deck around Fland, it was full of cursed people.

"Don't be nervous, Fland. You should already feel what you got last night. That was a precious potion. When you were plagued by nightmares, I injected it for you. Don't worry, there are no side effects."

Baha stopped after saying this, giving Fland time to think.

"Since you are a merchant, let's make a deal. How many gold coins are you prepared to pay to get rid of the problem of being plagued by nightmares?"

"This..." When it came to trading, Fland's courage emerged, and he continued: "Let your side name the price."

"Alright, 30,000 Demon Sea gold coins."

"Deal."

Fland felt relieved in his heart; he had thought he would have to lose his entire fortune.

"Damn it!"

Baha looked Fland up and down, a bit stunned. Where is this a rich merchant in front of him? This is clearly a God of Wealth.

PS: (Two chapters today. Spring is here, and Feiwen's cervical spondylosis has recurred. It's an old problem. If it improves tomorrow, I will strive for four chapters. If it doesn't improve, I will also try to maintain three chapters.)