Poznyu Encirclement Operation (6)
That night, the merchants who had signed contracts with Calix gathered in Madam Hari's salon.
Some had eyes bloodshot with rage, while others sat slumped in a daze, their gazes hollow and empty.
The atmosphere in the room was murderous.
The fully armed Red Wolf Mercenary Corps stood glaring, ready to intervene if any of these desperate souls lunged at Calix.
In that tense air, Calix finally made his entrance.
"Pleased to meet you all. Huh? I've repaid every grain of food I borrowed, so why the long faces?"
One of the merchants muttered under his breath.
"Enough already. You already made a killing selling coarse grains at inflated prices. No need to rub it in."
Another jabbed a finger at Calix and bellowed.
"Because of you...! Because of you, my whole family’s about to end up debtors on the streets. You’ll get what’s coming to you—divine retribution!"
Calix stared at him with an expressionless face.
That icy gaze made the merchant—who’d been red-faced and roaring moments ago—flinch.
"Did I force you to sell me food?"
"W-Well...!"
"You say it's because of me you racked up massive debts? Watch your words. Your wife and kids are chained up here because of your greed, you fool."
"Urk!"
Another merchant cackled.
"You're the one who set up this massive gamble and awakened everyone's greed. Can you really claim innocence? You're just as trashy as the rest of us. A winning pile of trash, that's all. Heh heh heh."
"If you'd sold the food at fair prices, I wouldn't have had to step in. But the moment you saw the contract I signed with Najaf, most of you rushed to stamp your seals. Why was that?"
No one answered Calix's question.
"You realized the contract heavily favored you and thought you'd screw me over, right? Not one of you warned me it was poison. And now you call me a winning pile of trash? Hahaha!"
Calix's laughter echoed through the salon.
But no one dared open their mouths.
They had passed the stage of anger and were slipping into resignation.
Just then, a new figure entered the salon.
It was Najaf.
His beard was unkempt, and he looked haggard, as if he hadn't eaten in days.
He wasn't much different from the other ruined merchants.
"Hm? This gathering is for those who went bankrupt this time, to discuss what's next. As far as I know, Najaf didn't suffer much loss. Am I wrong?"
Calix said with exaggerated wide eyes and gestures.
The other merchants' eyes flashed at the words—he'd escaped unscathed while they suffered.
Madness began to swirl once more in the previously dejected room.
As the mood grew uglier, Najaf spoke calmly.
"One of my subordinates committed a grave error against these folks. With such huge losses, he feared my reprimand and secretly sold off a large portion of the coarse grains."
"What? You called us traitors!"
"That son of a bitch!"
"Pay up what you owe me!"
"Raaagh!"
Dozens of merchants charged at Najaf. The Red Wolf mercenaries waiting nearby blocked them, but reining in frenzied men was no easy task.
One broke through and grabbed Najaf by the collar.
"You bastard! I lost every coin I scraped together over ten hard years. And now? You secretly dumped the grains? You're worse than that madman over there, got it?"
The mercenaries dragged him off with effort. Still raging, he thrashed and screamed to the end.
Najaf's once-pristine clothes were now hopelessly wrinkled. Without bothering to straighten them, he bowed toward Calix.
"Help them get back on their feet, at least minimally. I'll hand over all 500 gold my subordinate unjustly earned. It won't cover their losses, but it’ll give them hope that hard work might one day free them from slavery. You've already made plenty, haven't you?"
Najaf looked a decade older in just a few days. At last, tears welled in the merchants' eyes, turning the hall into a sea of sobs.
"Sob... I was insane! Waaah!"
"Wife! I'm sorry!"
A cold smile tugged at Calix's lips as he watched.
Hoo... Daring to play games with me?
Before coming to Madam Hari's salon, Najaf had secretly met with his caravan's chief steward.
"How much damage?"
"Actually... we profited about 500 gold. We didn't buy aggressively when prices spiked, and we pulled out fast. A blessing."
"Not quite. The real trouble starts now."
"What do you mean...?"
"Most merchants who jumped into this speculation are long-time locals rooted in Poznyu. They all know each other a degree or two away."
"Ugh...!"
For merchants, money was paramount.
More capital meant higher success rates and bigger profits.
But credit was nearly as vital.
Without it, you'd have to pay full upfront for orders.
In this still-closed society, breaking into new deals without personal connections was exponentially harder.
They might not notice amid the chaos now, but soon every merchant in Poznyu would know of his betrayal.
He'd kept his gold, but lost his reputation.
Business in Poznyu would be a nightmare from here on.
Najaf needed a scapegoat to toss to the furious merchants.
"Leave Poznyu for a while. You were planning to expand with branches outside anyway. Think of it as a cooling-off period, not a demotion."
The steward knew the promise rang hollow.
But he nodded silently.
Refusing might mean Najaf handing him his own head.
Better to show loyalty.
"Of course, I'll do as the caravan master says. But is shuffling me to a backwater post enough?"
"Of course, I have another plan."
Najaf headed to Madam Hari's salon. Upon entering the mansion, he found Calix with the merchants.
After a brief commotion, he made his plea to Calix.
"Help them get back on their feet, at least minimally. I'll hand over all 500 gold my subordinate unjustly earned. It won't cover their losses, but it’ll give them hope that hard work might one day free them from slavery. You've already made plenty, haven't you?"
Calix nearly burst out laughing.
If Najaf had dived into the speculation like the others, he'd have taken massive losses.
Profiting 500 gold as he claimed meant he'd hung back, watching the chaos.
Yet here he was, pressuring Calix with a paltry 500 gold like it was a grand sacrifice.
Agreeing meant forfeiting a huge chunk of his own gains.
Refusing would saddle Calix with the merchants' hatred for Najaf's betrayal.
Hot potato, huh? Clever old fox. Heh! But I won't play along so easily.
Pointing out he'd sat out the fight wouldn't help—just mutual mudslinging.
There was a better way.
Calix shot to his feet and strode over, warmly clasping Najaf's hand.
"How could I ignore a request from Poznyu's merchant elder, Najaf?"
"Th-Thank you."
He couldn't hide his bewilderment.
He'd never expected Calix to accept.
And in merchant circles, nothing was free.
By so readily agreeing, Najaf now owed Calix a massive debt—one he'd have to repay someday.
With all these merchants watching, he couldn't weasel out.
Then came the knockout blow.
"Here's what we'll do. Merge all their businesses into one big caravan. They're all seasoned Poznyu operators—they'll make it work."
"!!"
Najaf's face twitched faintly. Calix meant to consolidate these middling merchants into a major rival.
No merchant welcomed a powerful new competitor.
"To motivate them, I'll give equity stakes. Dividends will first cover debts, of course. And we'll pay salaries—not huge, but enough to live on."
"Woooah!"
"Thank you! Truly, thank you!"
"Waaah!"
"Sob! You're a saint!"
Najaf trembled as cheers erupted.
Calix was practically their ruiner—yet a token of kindness turned him into a once-in-a-lifetime hero.
He'd hoped for outrage and rejection; instead, his blood pressure spiked. Worse, he'd poked the hornet's nest and birthed a foe.
Time would remind those new executives of Najaf's backstab.
Then cooperation would turn to venomous attacks.
In trying to remove a wart, he'd grown a tumor. Face flushed with fury, Najaf stormed out.
Madam Hari, watching him go, turned to Calix.
"Quick thinking, young master."
"What can I say? Consolidating small merchants was always the plan. That's how you seize control of Poznyu's trade scene. I just hadn't decided whether to ally with Najaf, split the market, or go all-out for total dominance. Their reactions settled it: all-out war for now."
"Najaf's sharp. Once he grasps your bottomless funds, he'll bend the knee."
"Fewer headaches that way—not a bad outcome."
Madam Hari glanced out the window.
"Speaking of, what was Grima's legion commander thinking? Retreating too easily."
"How should I know his mind? Just roll with it. Anyway, did I pass the test?"
"...Not perfectly, but I'll call it a pass. As the princess's tutor."
Calix shook his head at her prim tone.
Trias has a rough road ahead.