Chapter 38: The Cost of a Hostile Takeover
"They're here," I transmit, my internal persona entering 'Hostile Merger' mode. "The Falmuth diplomats have arrived. And they brought 'specialists'. Rimuru, put the mask back on. External composure is mandatory."
The Assembly Hall of Tempest had been designed for high-level negotiations, but the group currently occupying the guest seating was radiating an atmosphere that had nothing to do with trade. At the center sat an envoy in silk robes that smelled of old money and desperation. Behind him stood three figures who didn't belong in this world's demographic profile.
Notice. [Analytical Appraisal] is detecting high-frequency dissonance from the three guards. They are 'Otherworlders'. Unlike the children in Ingrassia, these units have reached maturity and are leaking specialized magicule signatures.
Azathoth, give me a breakdown. I want the risk profile on those three before they even finish their opening pitch.
Analysis. Target A (Shogo Taguchi): High physical output, Berserker-type signature. Target B (Kyoya Tachibana): Sharp magicule edge, likely an 'Extra Skill' related to perception or blades. Target C (Kirara Mizutani): Auditory-based manipulation. Combined threat: High. They are behaving as 'Enforcers' for the Falmuth entity.
"Welcome to Tempest," Rimuru says, his voice muffled by Shizu's mask as he takes his seat. "I am Rimuru Tempest. This is my associate, Shinji Satou. We were told the Kingdom of Falmuth wished to discuss a partnership."
I float slightly higher, my dark, polished surface shimmering under the hall's magical lighting. My [Obsidian Aegis] is passively filtering the room, making me feel as solid as a vault door.
"Partnership is a generous term for what we've seen at the border," I pulse, my voice a resonant, icy frequency that causes the envoy to flinch. "You've increased your military presence by 300% and halted our merchant caravans under the guise of 'safety inspections'. In my world, we call that a trade embargo. State your ultimatum so we can skip the pleasantries."
The envoy clears his throat, sweat beading on his upper lip. "You are quite direct, Master Satou. Very well. The King of Falmuth views this... 'Monster Nation' as an unregulated threat. Your tax-free roads are disrupting the established economic order. Our terms are simple: Tempest will become a vassal state of Falmuth. You will pay a 70% tribute on all trade, and your military forces will be placed under our command."
Deadpool, if you're listening, I hope you've got the popcorn. A 70% tribute? That's not a tax; that's a liquidation of our entire sovereignty. These guys aren't even trying to hide the fact that they're here to strip-mine the forest.
"A 70% tribute?" Rimuru's voice hardens. "That's impossible. We've worked hard to build this place. We have treaties with Blumund and the Dwargon Kingdom."
"Treaties with lesser nations mean nothing when a Great Power decides to correct the market," the envoy retorts.
One of the Otherworlders—the one with the spiked hair and a bored expression, Shogo—steps forward. He kicks a decorative vase, shattering it against the stone floor.
"Hey, pops," Shogo sneers, looking at me. "Enough with the talk. This place is a dump filled with monsters. We're here to take what we want. If you don't sign the contract, we'll just kill everyone and take the loot anyway. It's more fun that way."
Warning. Target Shogo is initiating a provocative action. He is attempting to bait a 'First Strike' to justify a full-scale invasion under international law.
"Provocation is a low-yield strategy, Shogo," I pulse, my [Transaction Domain] snapping into place.
The air in the room suddenly becomes three times heavier. The envoy gasps, falling back into his chair. Shogo's smirk falters as the physical weight of my presence—reinforced by the copied laws of the Orc Lord and the Beastketeer—presses down on him.
"You've entered my house, broken my property, and threatened my assets," I broadcast, the cold authority of the Satou Conglomerate saturating every syllable. "In any civilized market, this would be grounds for a lawsuit. Here, it is grounds for a total loss of your life's valuation."
"Shinji, wait!" Rimuru warns, his hand on his sword.
"I'm not fighting them, Rimuru. I'm giving them the bill," I pulse. "Falmuth Envoy, tell your King this: The City of Tempest does not accept hostile takeovers. Your proposal is rejected. You have one hour to clear our borders before we declare your entire nation 'Insolvent' and proceed with a forced collection."
Shogo laughs, though he looks strained under the pressure. "Declaring us insolvent? You and what army, shiny ball? We've got a real army coming. And we've got us."
"You have a poorly optimized military and three teenagers with ego problems," I reply. "Get out. Now."
As the delegation leaves, the air in the hall remains thick with tension. The "Market Correction" hasn't just been threatened; it's been initiated.
"Souei," I transmit immediately. "The scouts. I want a full count of the Falmuth army. Rigurd, initiate the emergency bunkers. Rimuru... stop being a teacher for a moment. We aren't in a classroom anymore. We're in a siege."
Current Magicule Reserves: 97.2%. Location: Assembly Hall, Tempest. Status: Negotiations failed. Falmuth invasion confirmed. Soul Capacity: 20%. Note: I need to copy those Otherworlder skills. They're the only thing on the Falmuth balance sheet worth taking.
Chapter End.