The Lich of Glory Knight Spirit: Moving towards Krimasha!-Chapter 264 - 20: Entrepreneurship is Difficult (3)

Humans might celebrate the New Year, but the Blood Clan absolutely would not. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

With lives that went on for far too long, the New Year was as mundane to them as the first day of any other month.

Would you celebrate the first of every month? Obviously not, unless it happened to be payday.

In truth, for the Blood Clan, they had no holidays—or perhaps every day was a holiday. This race, steeped in extreme aristocratic indulgence, was perpetually seeking new forms of entertainment, changing up the ways they indulged, and competing with one another. Time was utterly trivial to them—except when it came to calculating interest.

Oh, right, so it makes sense that Jones cared a bit about time, given that he was currently having interest calculated against him.

"Lord Jones," Dora asked softly, "don’t you think we should repay the bank loan first? After all, bank loans accrue interest, while the one from Young Master Adelle doesn’t."

"Since I’ve already committed to paying a year’s worth of interest, why would I pay it back early?" Jones responded blankly as he stared at Dora.

Is Jones calculating? Perhaps. But if you were forced into his situation, you’d be just as calculating.

With only 35,000 gold coins left in his hands, and ongoing expenses from the castle looming at any moment, bankruptcy was always just one misstep away. Under such circumstances, every penny’s coming and going was something Jones scrutinized meticulously. Unless it was a matter of life and death, no one—absolutely no one—was getting a single coin out of him. Not even the bank.

And that wasn’t all; he even wanted to borrow more from the bank, though he couldn’t quite set aside his pride to do so.

Odd, isn’t it? His pride was practically being ground into the dirt every other day, yet somehow, he still managed to maintain some shred of dignity. It was truly remarkable.

In the first few days, most of the dwarves were preoccupied with building their earthen homes. These houses were domed structures, half aboveground and half below, with circular windows. From a distance, they looked like little mounds rising from the earth, or a cluster of half-buried spheres crammed together. They were quite distinctive.

One had to admit, dwarves truly were master craftsmen. Despite Jones providing no furniture and the complete absence of nearby shops, their homes still turned out beautifully crafted. Some even went the extra mile by carving their own wooden decorations.

"Young Master Jones, we need some carpets."

"No carpets, don’t even think about it. Just make do with those deer hides."

"Young Master Jones, we need some paint."

"No paint, don’t even think about it."

"Young Master Jones..."

"There’s nothing—not a single coin. Don’t even think about it." Jones coldly refused all the dwarves’ requests to improve their quality of life. After all, his own room in the castle didn’t even have furniture. It was completely empty; he wouldn’t even splurge on a proper coffin for himself.

After a few rounds of negotiations, Jones finally agreed to provide the dwarves with a small amount of spices, so their food would taste better. As for anything else, including the dwarves’ most prized request—alcohol—Jones promised to "seriously consider" it only after the first batch of ore was sold.

Soon enough, he regretted it. The aroma of spiced roasted meat wafted into the castle, where the Hydra caught a whiff of it...

"I’m very pleased with you, truly. Little bat, you’re an excellent servant."

"Ma’am, may I ask which aspect of my service pleases you?"

"Why, the food you’ve prepared for me, of course! Without me even asking, you thoughtfully prepared spiced roast meat for me. You really understand me. Is it because I once mentioned wanting delicious food?"

"Uh, that roast meat wasn’t..." Glancing up at the nine enormous snake heads looming over him, all staring intently as their drooling mouths gaped open, Jones swallowed hard, gathered his composure, and forced a smile, saying, "Yes, that was the surprise I had prepared for you!"

Great—roast meat aside, now the spice budget had skyrocketed. The spice consumption for one snake head was equivalent to that of all the dwarves combined. And the Hydra had demanded that this standard be maintained for every future meal.

Jones’ heart silently wept.

Dora watched quietly from the side, not daring to say a word.

Meanwhile, Barrel, along with a few assistants, was scouring all over the mountains, beginning the task of surveying mineral veins. Jones, clad in Silver Moon Knight Order armor, followed them every day.

"It’s been two days already—still not done surveying?"

"Do you think surveying mineral veins is that simple? You expect it to be done in two days?"

"Then how long will it take?"

"If we’re talking the entire territory, I’ll need at least five years."

"Are you insane? Five years!" Jones practically screamed.

"But to survey to the point where mining can begin, it’ll only take half a month." Barrel wiggled his eyebrows and grinned. "Heh, doesn’t it sound much more reasonable to hear ’half a month’ after I said five years? Of course, starting now, that’s half a month."

"Half a month..." Jones sighed helplessly.

"I notice you’ve been following us every day, even wearing armor in broad daylight. Don’t you have anything else to do?"

"Right now, this is the most important thing."

"No, there’s something more important." Barrel fished a small pouch out of his belt and handed it to Jones.

Opening the pouch, Jones found it contained a handful of small, yellow-streaked rocks.

"These are ores from our mineral veins. You should take them and inquire about their value, then find a suitable buyer. Beyond that, you also need to arrange transportation."

"Uh... buy a few carriages?" Jones asked, puzzled.

"No, arrange transportation, not buy carriages," Barrel stressed. "The ore has to be transported to Hilde before it can be sold, and the road from here to Hilde isn’t great—it takes three months. Here, we only have dwarves, the Blood Clan, and zombies. Zombies can’t be used for transportation—they’re too slow and would turn a three-month journey into a year. Dwarves can’t leave unless you’re ready to hire more, and even then, there aren’t enough of them; at least fifty people are needed for a single transport trip. As for the Blood Clan, they’re out of the question entirely."

Jones was a bit bewildered: "Then... what do other mining operations usually do?"

"They usually refine the ore on-site. Trust me, on-site refining would cost far more than your 35,000 gold coins. Alternatively, you could get a buyer to set up a refining factory here, but that has to wait until we’ve finished surveying and have bargaining leverage for overall negotiations. For transportation, most operations use goblins and carriages. You could consider hiring a goblin transport team."

"A goblin transport team? I thought I could just buy a batch of goblin slaves. Goblins aren’t that expensive, right?"

Barrel sighed deeply. "Young Master, listen to me—nobody uses slaves for transportation. If we weren’t enticed by lucrative terms, even we would want to run. If tasked with transportation, goblins running away would be far too convenient."

Jones was thoroughly confused: "Uh... you sound like you know quite a bit. But I just want to point out: I didn’t propose any conditions—you came up with them yourself."

"I’ve spent my whole life mining. Of course, I know these things." Barrel reached out to pat Jones on the shoulder, then said, "Go to the Hilde market district and take a look around. You can negotiate anything, but don’t sign any contracts recklessly. Before signing anything—especially regarding prices—make sure to consult me first. I’m counting on this mine to regain my freedom, so don’t bankrupt us."

"Understood. Thank you." Though he felt it wasn’t exactly fitting for a Blood Clan Lord to be doing this, Jones still earnestly bowed to Barrel. The gesture left Barrel somewhat surprised.

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