Chapter 474: Josie West
Hearing Zhou Ning's clear confirmation, Smith let out a breath of relief. He nodded lightly.
"A wise choice. You won't regret it."
Zhou Ning rubbed his empty stomach and asked straightforwardly:
"So what price can you offer?"
"Standard long rifles, 22 Vecktas. Standard short guns, 18 Vecktas. Devil Fruits, 1500 Vecktas," Smith replied, starting from the prices Zhou Ning had previously charged the Chosen. He offered terms he believed Zhou Ning couldn't refuse.
The price was excellent… As for how Smith knew so clearly, Zhou Ning had already noticed several unfamiliar transcendent professionals tailing him earlier in the day — clearly Smith's people.
Zhou Ning nodded and extended his hand.
"Deal. I'm sure I won't regret it either."
Smith couldn't hold back a genuine smile. He shook Zhou Ning's hand, then drew a contract from the ring on his finger. After signing his name in two quick strokes, a radiant golden glow flared from the writing — even brighter than the chandelier overhead. Zhou Ning could feel a faint divine solemnity, as if the War God Himself had descended.
Smith finished signing, set the contract on the table, and pushed it toward him.
"Take a look. If everything is in order, we can finalize it."
Zhou Ning picked up the contract and read the terms carefully.
As expected of Nathaniell, the legal capital — every clause was airtight and impeccable. He only needed to provide some firearms and Devil Fruits every half month, with no required minimum. The duration was one year, renewed annually.
He gave an almost imperceptible nod and signed his own name.
At that moment, he felt an invisible binding settle over his body.
Smith retrieved the contract, then took out a stack of cash from his ring and handed it over.
"This is the deposit. I'll send someone to Carnaby Street periodically to complete each exchange. No rush for the first batch — anytime within half a month."
"Here's to a pleasant collaboration."
Zhou Ning weighed the bills, assessing their thickness, and smiled.
"A pleasant collaboration."
...
Meanwhile—
Nathaniell, District 13, Joyce Street.
Before an unremarkable house, historian Rick Green — who had met Zhou Ning earlier that afternoon — stood with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. He rang the doorbell.
Inside lived the patron who funded his archaeological expedition — Anne Robbins, a mature noblewoman with a refined allure.
Though she didn't speak much during their previous meetings, her manners were elegant, her demeanor poised, and her knowledge of history surpassed even his. He found himself utterly fascinated.
Moments later, the door opened. A handsome man glanced at him with a touch of superiority, brushed past him, and forced him to stumble sideways, nearly losing his balance.
What… No!
In that instant, Rick felt as if the world had turned to snow — cold enough to freeze his heart. But before he could wallow in jealousy, he saw Anne in her yellow dress standing expressionless in the doorway. His momentary pain vanished instantly.
He followed Anne inside and hurried to report the day's progress.
"Mrs. Robbins, today I recruited six adventurers. We should be able to assemble a full expedition team soon and head to Hood Island to investigate the meteorological tides."
As he spoke, he kept an eye on her expression. She seemed unmoved, only asking:
"Did you reveal my identity?"
"No, I concealed the employer exactly as you instructed. And today I met someone important at the Adventurers' Guild — he also seems interested in Hood Island. With him, our chances of success would go up a lot. But I think we'd need a bigger budget to attract him."
"Who is it?" Anne Robbins lifted her head, intrigued.
"Wayne Sturwell."
Rick noticed the immediate flash of surprise — and… fear? — on Anne Robbins' face.
"I'll consider increasing the budget. As for inviting Wayne Sturwell, don't force it. He may not be suitable. What we need more are adventurers with stronger historical expertise."
After seeing Rick Green off, Anne Robbins — Josie West — let her expression darken.
She couldn't remember anything that had just happened. Not even that man who had just left.
Ever since suffering repeated setbacks at the hands of Wayne Sturwell, The Four-Act Opera of Leoncavallo seemed to have awakened some hidden switch. It would spiral out of control from time to time.
She had been forced to keep it sealed in the Demonic Suppression Box.
But even that box was no longer able to restrain it. More and more bizarre passages had begun appearing on its pages — disturbing her with equal parts disgust and terror.
When she slept, the book controlled her actions, making her do one outrageous thing after another. She could only piece together what she had done by reading its new passages.
It dressed her up and made her wander out at night. It had her mingle with high society. It had even formed this expedition team while she was asleep… Sometimes she couldn't tell whether the book was helping her revive the Reaper, or simply indulging in its own twisted amusements.
Josie hesitated, then retrieved a box from the drawer. She took out a key, opened the Demonic Suppression Box, and pulled out the book. She flipped to the latest page.
Dense writing sprawled across it:
"Rick Green, due to a sudden downpour, will abandon his original plans and head to the nearest Adventurers' Guild to recruit members. There he will encounter the newly arrived Wayne Sturwell and extend an invitation."
"But Wayne Sturwell is a very practical man (crossed out, replaced with greedy). The mere 200 Vecktas pay will make him scoff and refuse. He will never know what he missed — a chance to face deities and obtain treasure. But it doesn't matter. This is only the beginning. Fate will inevitably draw him there once we delve deeper and obtain the complete Book of Gleipnir."
"Additionally, Josie West, out of loneliness, will seek a man as her bed partner. This is unavoidable. The man is a member of the Sepharic Kingdom's Congress as well as a cabinet minister — very helpful for establishing ourselves in Nathaniell…"
"Damn it!" Even with her normally composed and calculating personality, she couldn't stop herself from breaking down for a moment. No wonder her body had felt so wrong earlier.
There were many more lines, but Josie slammed the book shut in fury. For a moment she truly wanted to cast it into the fire and be done with it forever. After a long sigh, she locked it back into the Demonic Suppression Box and returned it to the drawer.
She shut the drawer hard, plunging it back into darkness.
In the endless darkness, the shabby little book flipped itself open again. Pages rustled wildly. More words began to appear.
...
Golden Law Avenue, No. 137 — Viscount Hall's residence.
Zhou Ning returned to the banquet after finishing his talk with Smith.
The hall was still lively. Even without him, the guests remained in cheerful clusters, chatting away.
He had no interest in socializing now — hunger came first.
He picked up a plate and moved along the tables, selecting various dishes. The moment he swallowed the first bite, he nearly teared up in relief.
Getting a proper meal had been far too difficult.
Suddenly, Zhou Ning halted and narrowed his eyes. He heard several nobles nearby discussing something that had happened on Bauhinia Road.
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