Everything was proceeding in an orderly manner. From the information sent by the Black Serpent headquarters, Wilder had already learned that the first arms shipment for the transaction had left HQ. Five hundred standard rifles, thirty small-caliber cannons, ten large-caliber cannons, and countless rounds of ammunition. And all of these were produced by the Black Serpent's own armaments factory. Their performance was much better than the common goods circulating on the market, with significant improvements in stability, accuracy, and rate of fire.
Wilder had mentioned this to the other party in the transaction, though whether they believed him was unknown. But he figured, without practical experience, few would believe the tall tales of a businessman. There was likely no shortage of secret scoffing.
Less than half a day had passed since the news arrived. Wilder mentally reviewed the things that needed to be done next, keeping himself clear-headed and maintaining a firm grasp on the upcoming series of events. This was something Wilder did every day. By doing so, he could reduce the probability of errors and also modify his plans according to changes in the actual situation.
"What's your name?"
After the little girl had bathed and changed her clothes, she looked like a completely different person. She wore a simple white outfit, adorned with a few green bamboo leaf patterns. Her soft, long hair cascaded just below her shoulders, exuding an innate nobility amidst her simple elegance. Her slightly chubby baby face was rosy and translucent, her eyebrows delicate. At this moment, she had a comically adult-like expression, her cheeks puffed out like two steamed buns, her small eyebrows knitted together, lost in thought. The only flaw was that due to prolonged starvation, her body was too thin; even when sitting, her ribs were clearly visible.
Hearing Wilder's question, the little girl snapped back to reality. She looked up, flashed a radiant smile, and said in a clear voice, still with a hint of childish lisp, "My name is Aisha. Bazan—Aisha."
After speaking, she seemed to remember something and quickly added, "I'm five years old this year."
Wilder nodded but said nothing more. People in this world matured early. Five years old... was roughly equivalent to ten in his previous life. And in some respects, it was vastly different from his previous life. For example, regarding eating and drinking: in his previous life, those who had suffered starvation couldn't binge eat afterwards, as the severe consequences could even be life-threatening. But in this world, such limitations didn't exist. After starving, a feast of rich food was the best compensation for the hungry.
So, looking at the untouched bread and milk on the table, Wilder decided to give her proper compensation—consider it a reward for her "saving" his life. Of course, the main reason was that it was mealtime, and Wilder didn't want to subject himself to eating bread and milk with a little brat. He remembered a decent restaurant on the street. He hadn't eaten there himself, but knew it was good because the chatterbox crewman had told him. He figured someone who had received money and benefits wouldn't just speak carelessly.
With intentional casualness, little Aisha, following Wilder onto the street, slipped her small hand into Wilder's large one. Then, she lowered her head, looking left and right, just not daring to look up at Wilder. Wilder gave her a cold glance, then looked away without saying anything. Just consider it… being led by a little brat.
For a dining place, the food was paramount, followed by elegance and quiet. These were non-negotiable standards, at least for Wilder. A restaurant named Pin Hai Restaurant, probably located at the far end of the street, was built by the sea. Since it wasn't a pier and there were reefs underwater, no ships were docked nearby. The back of the restaurant faced the sea, with walls made of glass, allowing diners to enjoy the distant sea view at any time while eating. What was most pleasant was that one could also fish, or bring out a beach lounger and comfortably sunbathe for half a day on the corridor outside the glass wall or on the small, wood-planked plaza.
It was unclear whether little Aisha was leading Wilder or Wilder was leading little Aisha. In any case, the two of them ascended the wooden steps and entered the restaurant. They found a corner in a quiet spot, sat down, and ordered. Little Aisha sat obediently, not making a fuss, quietly watching Wilder finish ordering and hand the menu back to the waiter. There was a hint of disappointment on her face; it seemed she was worried the dishes ordered without her input wouldn't suit her taste.
On this point, Wilder never compromised. Getting a meal was excellent; getting a piece of meat would be even better; meat drizzled with wine would be perfect. Therefore… ordering a child-appropriate set meal was already his greatest act of mercy. Anything more… was impossible.
"What do you want to eat?"
Sometimes people were just so contradictory. A decision just made would quickly be overturned for some unknown reason he himself couldn't fathom. Wilder felt he was still too kind, so kind that he even had to ask a little brat's opinion for a meal. But… since he'd already said it, offering a small favor wasn't unjustifiable.
"I want steak! Big bone meat! Stupid lamb leg! Sand-sculpture fish! And finally, just a tiny piece, really just a tiny piece of vegetables will be enough, thank you, mister!" Little Aisha's eyes instantly lit up. She firmly and quickly rattled off the names of four dishes. That last tiny piece of vegetable, he reckoned, was ordered for nutritional balance.
"Mister, do you have money? Otherwise, I won't order them," Aisha suddenly deflated after shouting her order, feeling she had been excessive and blaming herself a little.
"Bring all of these, including what was just ordered," Wilder said, turning slightly to the waiter.
"Certainly, sir. Right away," the waiter bowed and withdrew.
Wilder had just turned back when he was met with a small face streaming with snot and tears.
"Sob, sob, sob…" Although Aisha was crying, a genuine smile appeared on her face for the first time. Yes, Wilder could see it. Only this time, her smile contained no ingratiation, no cautiousness.
Without saying anything, not even bothering to pull out a nearby tissue to offer her, Wilder turned his head and looked out at the sea beyond the glass.
The food arrived quickly. Little Aisha was like a different person, a big piece of bone-in meat in one hand, a "stupid lamb leg" in the other, eating until her mouth shone with grease. Her eyes sparkled, and a rare seriousness appeared on her small face as she wholeheartedly devoted herself to tackling the delicious food.
Little foodie… What can relieve sorrow? Only good food. These two lines suddenly popped into Wilder's head.
The meal passed in an atmosphere that was neither deathly quiet nor overly boisterous. Their table was now piled half a person high with empty plates.
Purupurupuru…
The sound of a Den Den Mushi. Wilder took out a napkin, wiped his fingers, then reached into his black cloak and answered. Vice's rough voice came through: "Boss, the first arms shipment has reached its destination. What's next?"
"Hide it. Tomorrow, you'll meet the other party for the transaction. I'll give you his contact information. Remember to say what I instructed you before," Wilder said calmly.
"Don't worry, Boss."
Hanging up, Wilder stared out at the sea, lost in thought, only an enigmatic light flickering in his deep eyes.
After finishing the meal, Wilder thought for a moment; there was probably no rush for anything yet. He settled the bill, took little Aisha out of the restaurant, and went to the small seaside plaza at the back. He found a beach lounger for himself, lay down, called a waiter, bought a pair of sunglasses, and put them on. His black cloak paired with black sunglasses looked truly bizarre to those around. He let little Aisha run around freely. Though his eyes weren't watching, he was clearly aware of everything around him.
"What a big crab! Mister, aren't you going to fish?" Not far away, little Aisha exclaimed, leaning over the railing, her eyes shining as she watched a large crab hiding in a reef crevice below. As she watched... after a short while, drool actually started trickling from the corner of her mouth. She pondered for a moment, her eyes darted around, and then she turned and called out to Wilder. "Mister, are you really not going to fish?"
"So annoying. No fishing," Wilder said, eyes closed, expressionless, a vein faintly throbbing at his temple.
"Oh..."
Wilder thought that would be the end of it, but after a moment…
"Then, mister, are you going to catch the big crab?"
"...No catching."
Little Aisha stood by the railing, reluctantly tearing her gaze away from the big crab, and looked back at Wilder.
"..." Wilder couldn't take it anymore. He raised his hand. "Waiter."
"Yes, sir. How may I help you?"
"Help me catch that crab. This is your reward," Wilder said without lifting his head, a large-denomination Beli note held between his fingers.
"It would be my pleasure to serve you." The waiter glanced in that direction, then looked back, bowed slightly, and skillfully took the banknote.
"Sir, you shouldn't have spent that money needlessly. Those crabs are deliberately placed there by the restaurant. What they want are generous customers like yourself. The reward for 'catching' crabs is much more than for selling them," a magnetic voice said near his ear.
Wilder's eyebrow twitched slightly, and he turned his head to look. It was a middle-aged man, well-dressed, with an air of refinement and nobility about him. He was lounging on another beach chair not far away. Seeing Wilder look over, he gave him a refined smile.
"That's because I can't be bothered to catch it," Wilder replied. "If I were even slightly willing, they wouldn't get this money, and they'd also lose a crab. But compared to catching a crab, I'd rather stay on this lounger. While I enjoyed the service, he also put in the effort. This money… he deserves to earn it."
The distance between them wasn't great, but they weren't close either, perhaps about twenty meters apart. Normally, it would be difficult for someone to overhear a regular conversation from that distance, yet this person had heard their exchange.
"Hmm… it seems you're right," the refined man pondered for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "No… that's not right. Because, ultimately, they are setting a trap for their customers," he then shook his head. "If they didn't put crabs down there, then that money would indeed be what they deserve."
Wilder said nothing. Their conversation ended there. They looked at each other, then… nodded with a smile and looked away, though an impression of the other person remained in their minds.
During this time, a few other obvious wealthy merchants completed "crab-catching" transactions with the waiters. The refined middle-aged man tirelessly analyzed the crux of the matter for those "deceived" individuals. Then, after about five minutes, Wilder personally witnessed the refined middle-aged man being roughly shouldered by several waiters, cursed at, and driven away.
"How pathetic…" Wilder grinned and looked away. Clearly, the man's presence had severely impacted the restaurant's income.
The big crab was ultimately eaten by little Aisha. Steamed, and served with the restaurant's specially prepared sauce, she ate until her cheeks bulged.
Purupuru… Purupuru…
The Den Den Mushi rang more frequently. Wilder answered again. This time, it was Ashin's voice. As always, Ashin was a man of few words, offering only a simple sentence. "The Marines have withdrawn."
"Understood." Wilder's reply was equally brief. He gave Ashin a new task—to investigate the locations of the five nations the Revolutionary Army was planning to overthrow—then hung up.
The Marines at the transaction site were bound to withdraw sooner or later; this didn't surprise Wilder. After hanging up, a sharp glint flashed in his eyes. It was time to act.
Black robes fluttering, Wilder left the restaurant with little Aisha and secretly boarded a ship heading to the transaction island. This time, no one knew his movements, not even Ashin. While everyone assumed he had completely delegated the transaction to his subordinates and didn't intend to handle it personally, Wilder silently returned to the previous island and lay in wait. Only by witnessing the transaction's completion with his own eyes would Wilder be completely at ease. At the same time, he wanted to use this opportunity to observe his subordinates' "capabilities."
Then came the secret wait.
At a known, specific time, under the cover of night, the transaction began. Wilder transformed into swamp, stealthily merging with a rooftop. In a dark alley below, two groups faced each other. One group was led by the owner of the Koron Auction House, followed by about a hundred of the auction house's men. They quietly watched Vice and his group. Opposite them, led by Vice, were about forty-plus individuals. Each wore a uniform black cloak and a featureless mask. Except for Vice's mask, which was emblazoned with the character "斗" (Dou - Fight/Battle), the masks of all the others bore the character "泽" (Ze - Marsh, representing Morass), exuding an air of mystery and oppression. Between the forty-plus individuals were stacks of wooden crates, connected underneath by wheels and planks, arranged in a long line that just fit into the alley with some room to spare.
"Isn't Morass coming?" the Koron owner asked, frowning, his calm gaze directed at Vice. In truth, he only knew that these people before him were subordinates of the man calling himself Morass; he knew nothing else. Therefore, he was being particularly cautious with this transaction. The Revolutionary Army had tasked someone with investigating Morass from the very beginning, but unfortunately, they had yielded no results so far.
"Are you implying this transaction is of the highest importance?" Vice's voice was deliberately lowered, carrying a raspy quality.