Sitting in the restaurant of the Holy Seat Mansion and waiting for his meal, Horn suddenly remembered something.

He turned to Edwin beside him and asked, "Did those shareholders of the Black Snake Bay Spice Company all come?"

"They did. We specially gave them a separate ticket for the observation deck, so they could listen to our report alone."

Horn nodded, but saw Edwin couldn't help but chuckle. Curious, he asked, "Why did you suddenly laugh?"

Under Edwin's short gray hair, his white face showed two small dimples as he laughed, "The observation deck has five levels, the shareholders are sitting on the fifth level, while the Duke of Falan is sitting on the fourth level."

Horn was initially stunned, then couldn't help but burst out laughing, "These two groups haven't bumped into each other, have they?"

"They haven't. We completed the arrangements and then realized, carefully guiding them through different passageways."

"You handle things, I can rest easy." Horn inserted a piece of cold cake textured sweet rice pudding into his mouth, savoring it.

The sweet rice pudding made from rice actually resembled the cold cake from his hometown.

It's made by steaming sweet rice fruit similar to glutinous rice until it's gooey and sticky, then topped with raisins, red dates, walnut pieces, and cut into pieces to dip in white sugar.

It's loaded with carbs and a favorite snack among many commoners.

One, it's simple to make; two, the ingredients are cheap.

Rice fruit, white sugar, raisins are not expensive, the only costly ingredient is red dates, which have to be imported from Falan.

Duke Rabon did not show Horn any face, refusing to eat such common snacks.

But his fellow countrymen upstairs were quite accommodating, eating them whether they liked it or not.

After all, Horn was their god of wealth, they had to eat even if they didn't want to.

Thinking of Duke Rabon oblivious to the situation, Horn couldn't help but laugh, wondering if he ever figured things out.

The clues were almost laid bare.

Why had spices from Black Snake Bay and Sweet Branch Plantation sprung up like mushrooms after the rain? Their growth rate was even faster than the sugar workshops in Thousand River Valley.

Why had Black Snake Bay suddenly emerged with a bunch of Falan refugees chopping sweet branches and spices?

Why had the Black Snake Bay United Spice Company placed large orders for hydraulic machinery to squeeze sweet branches with the Holy Alliance?

Because the shareholders and shipowners of the Black Snake Bay Spice Company were all Falan Nobility!

Not only had the progressive nobility invested money to buy shares, but even traditional manor nobility had purchased the issued bonds.

Among the great nobility and major industrialists, the Lakin Clan had spearheaded the rush, frantically buying various bonds and stocks from Thousand River Valley.

Not only did they buy various industrial bonds and stocks of new factories, but they also became brokers, helping middle-class and nobility to pool funds for investment.

One must say, these Falan Nobility did possess entrepreneurial spirit. The money earned early on was wholly reinvested into production, continuing to buy stocks, bonds, and open new markets.

Products like sugar were wanted by the Norn people, the Falan people, the Leia people, even vampires, centaurs, and dwarves.

As long as it could be produced and shipped out, there was no fear of not having buyers.

Coincidentally, Falan had the empire's largest trade fleet, and Black Snake Bay was the world's largest production area for spices and sugar.

This was obviously an industry guaranteed to profit. Clearly, they had to secure the territory first and then profit!

When the South Thousand River Valley Free Trade Agreement was signed for the second time, the Baron of Blot led the team armed with 3,000 pounds worth of Holy Alliance Sugar Workshop industrial bonds and Black Snake Bay United Spice Company's shares valued at 10,000 pounds.

The Prime Minister dispatched a very professional negotiating team, each having stocks and bonds to varying degrees.

If you raise tariffs, our operating costs rise, and that's their money.

The principal hasn't even returned yet!

Isn't the choice obvious?

That tariff belongs to the King of Falan, but the dividends from the shares and interest from the bonds are their own!

This isn't about disloyalty to the king, it's just that managing such busy tax cards and so much money is bound to be troublesome.

They're merely suggesting the King share some of the burden.

Now the Black Snake Bay fever was sweeping through the interior of Falan, and Horn had given part of the stock issuance stakes to the Lakin Clan.

Each time new stocks were issued, it was a frenzy with the streets filled with people.

The funds raised turned into new plantations and new sugar workshops.

There was even a vague sense of Ponzi schemes and spice bubbles in Falan.

Only Duke Rabon, who stayed in the frontier for ten years, was out of touch.

Just called back, yet hadn't met the king, and was sent to Holy Alliance, naturally rushing blindly.

Thinking of this, Horn couldn't help but admire the Prime Minister's political acumen.

Why appoint Duke Rabon?

First, he was out of touch and unaware of the hidden intricacies, making him likely to uncover them, and once uncovered, he'd have to bear the responsibility.

After all, "We didn't act because we didn't know, but since you know and still didn't act, it's disloyalty to the king!"

Second, the Prime Minister wasn't very trusting of some people in his country anymore, selecting this detached one unlikely to be corrupted.

Third, Duke Rabon was exiled to the barren frontier but managed it well without resigning to go home.

This showed he, though arrogant, had ability and the intent to return to the kingdom's center.

But if he knew the nature of the matter beforehand, he'd rather continue as the governor of the frontier than get involved.

Now he's into this game, finding it hard to leave, with the lure of returning to the political arena ahead. He can only bite the bullet and investigate.

With a dagger hanging behind him and a carrot dangling in front, he must investigate whether he wants to or not!

The Prime Minister's grasp on human nature and Duke Rabon's character was precise.

Using a knife and fork, Horn cut open the fried pork chop before him, picked up the ceramic bowl and chopsticks, took a piece of pork chop, and mumbled while eating, "What a cunning man."

...

The sunset was like blood, unsettling the heart.

Duke Rabon sat upright on the terrace of the mansion, his posture peculiar, as if bonelessly embedded in the wooden chair.

Golden-red sunlight fell on his face, leaving others unsure how to describe his expression.

In his brows, there was confusion. In his eyes, anger. A wrinkle of his nose showed terror. At the corners of his mouth, sadness and despair... and even a hint of indescribable strange, joyful smile.

He sat like a statue, staring at the flax fields before him and the distant mountains.

The servant standing inside with wine couldn't help but worry, stepping softly to Casani's side and whispering, "Is the Duke alright?"

"He's fine, just needs some quiet time." Casani replied while dipping bread into clam soup.

"He's been quiet all afternoon, not eating or drinking, not responding when called. I poked him with a stick just now, and he didn't budge."

Casani had a fright, worried the Duke might actually have been scared to death, but surely his endurance wasn't so weak.

Thinking for a moment, Casani picked up the glass of wine from the servant and slowly walked over to the Duke's recliner.

Before he had a chance to speak, Duke Rabon spoke first, "Casani, you've truly put me in a difficult position."

Casani sighed, "I merely kept to my duties, just a thread in Mr. Spider's web."

"Why would the Prime Minister do this? How have I offended him?" Duke Rabon spoke with a tremor in his voice, almost on the verge of tears.

Sent to the frontier in his youth, hitting the prime of his life thinking he could return to the political scene, only to land in such a situation.

This isn't merely negotiating an agreement!

He must satisfy the royal side, the noble side, balance the interests of traditional and progressive nobility.

And even on the Holy Alliance's side, maintaining diplomatic decorum.

Dora's hatred is immense.

A slight mistake, and he'd be drawn into a fierce battle of noble and political forces.

The Prime Minister himself didn't want to touch this mess; likely, other nobles are avoiding it as well.

All because he asked a question, successfully plunging into it.

"The Prime Minister's calculations are remarkable, hitting three birds with one stone. He stole the fame, took the power, and dragged me in."

Casani couldn't help but empathize, "Perhaps you could resign and return home?"

"The Prime Minister didn't give me that opportunity!"

If he ran, once something came to light, he'd be the first to take the blame.

All he could do was investigate, restructure interests, and identify the culprits.

Duke Rabon gritted his teeth, "First step, let's get that damned King Jiji out of here! At least have some bargaining chips!"