It had been three days, and the morning sun no longer brought Caroline the slightest bit of warmth.
Her patience had run out.
'It was true that Velin had shown her some "new things"—that potato field, the so-called sea salt potatoes, his talent for accelerated growth... It was all very strange.'
'But that didn't change the fact that it was just a potato field.'
'For a wound that had the Golden Sail Commerce Association hemorrhaging money every day, this was nothing more than a flimsy bandage.'
She was about to end this farce and return to Stone Bridge City when the sound of frantic hoofbeats approached from a distance.
A messenger galloped up, his mount foaming at the mouth before collapsing in exhaustion at the gates of the Lord's Mansion.
The messenger scrambled inside the residence where Caroline and her retinue were staying, his face pale and his eyes filled with fatigue.
"Vice President!"
The messenger dropped to one knee, presenting a letter sealed tight with wax and a box forged from pure silver.
Caroline's pupils contracted the moment she saw the box, but then she relaxed.
'It was both unexpected and yet, somehow, inevitable.'
Caroline took the letter, broke the seal with her fingertip, and quickly scanned its contents.
The letter confirmed what Velin had predicted. The divers, wearing hastily-made, silver-lined protective suits, had indeed found several metal blocks anchored by chains and buoys at a depth of fifteen to twenty meters in the fishing grounds.
Her hand trembled slightly as she turned her gaze to the silver box.
Barris stepped forward and opened it with a special key.
Inside lay a drab, grey metal chunk the size of a fist. It looked like the cheapest lead ingot, utterly unremarkable.
Caroline instinctively leaned closer, trying to get a better look.
'Is she mad?'
A hand shot out, quick as a flash, and slammed the silver box shut with a SNAP.
"Do you believe me now?"
Velin's voice snapped her out of her shock.
"The sea salt potatoes, the microscope, and this..." He pointed to the silver box. "They are all just tools, tangible products. My true value lies in what's behind these tools."
Velin tapped his temple.
"It's the knowledge locked in here. Vice President Channing, I can see worlds you cannot, and I understand rules you cannot comprehend."
He met Caroline's dazed, emerald eyes.
"Today, I can solve your fishery crisis. Tomorrow, I can make your saline lands grow crops. The day after, perhaps I can give your expensive Magic Battleships the strength of steel."
"By partnering with me, you're not investing in a single technology or a single product."
Velin's voice was clear and powerful, echoing in the quiet reception hall.
"You are investing in a new era, and the Golden Sail Commerce Association will be the first to inhabit it."
Caroline bit her lip, her crisp riding habit suddenly seeming a size too large.
She stared at Velin, her expression a complex mixture of emotions.
After a long silence, she finally spoke.
"This... 'contamination,' what are its effects on people?"
Velin thought she was worried about the side effects from looking at the box. "You don't have to worry. Short-term exposure will only cause fatigue and nausea. But prolonged contact leads to skin inflammation, hair loss, and, in more severe cases, nosebleeds, dizziness, and extreme exhaustion."
A cold, murderous glint flashed in Caroline's eyes.
She turned to her attendant, Barris, her voice regaining its usual sharp, decisive tone.
"Barris!"
"Yes, Vice President."
"Investigate immediately! Right here in Stone Bridge City! I want you to find every fisherman who has shown similar symptoms in the last two weeks!"
Caroline stood and began pacing back and forth, her powerful business instincts now fully activated.
Velin was impressed. He hadn't expected her to grasp the key characteristics of the radiation sickness and use them to hunt for the mastermind.
All within a minute of encountering this completely new field of knowledge.
'A true lioness.'
The negotiation resumed in an entirely new atmosphere.
"...To solve this problem, and the many more that may arise in the future," Velin stated calmly, "your Commerce Association's current system won't work. It's like a fine fishing net—it looks like it can hold everything, but the truly important things slip right through."
"We need an independent, top-secret department."
Caroline's nails dug so deep into her palms they nearly drew blood. She forced the words through her teeth: "What do you want?"
"I'm not telling you what I want. I'm telling you what must be done," Velin corrected her. "This department... we'll call it the 'Origin Association.' I will have sole discretion over all its research. You can make requests, but you cannot influence how I conduct my work. Its existence will be accountable only to you and me."
"Impossible!" Caroline's head snapped up, her queenly aura flaring up in a last show of defiance. "The Golden Sail Commerce Association will not harbor a beast it cannot control! I can give you resources, but you must be supervised by people from the Association!"
"Supervise?" Velin laughed, a hint of pity in his smile. "The Alchemists you send won't even know what a 'cell' is. What will they supervise? Whether or not I'm in a good mood today?"
"Vice President Channing, you can send people, but they will be my students, not my overseers. That is my bottom line."
After a heated exchange, Caroline was forced to accept reality. She could send a team, but they would have to act as 'assistants' under Velin's command.
"Finally, the distribution of profits." Caroline took a deep breath, making her last stand. "The technology is yours, but the capital, the channels, and the manpower all belong to the Golden Sail Commerce Association. Seventy-thirty. I get seventy."
"No," Velin shook his head. "Seventy-thirty. I get seventy. I provide the leap from zero to one. You provide the growth from one to a hundred. Without my 'zero,' everything you have is just foam on the waves."
In the end, thanks to his silver-tongued arguments, they reached an agreement that was slightly unfavorable to the Golden Sail Commerce Association: a sixty-forty split, with Velin taking the larger share.
Caroline extended her hand.
Velin took it. It was delicate and cool to the touch, yet it held an unyielding will.
The sunlight streamed through the window. A mysterious organization, one that would be enough to change the commercial landscape of the entire Duchy—and perhaps even the course of the world—was quietly born in this humble reception room.
At the dinner celebrating their new partnership, a few simple dishes were laid out on the long wooden table.
The most eye-catching was a large platter of golden-brown french fries.
Caroline picked one up and put it in her mouth. The crispy exterior and soft, fluffy interior, coupled with a faint salty fragrance, allowed her tense nerves to relax, just for a moment.
"These are the sea salt potatoes," Velin said, holding his wine glass and looking at the now-elegant Caroline. "They can turn saline land into fertile fields."
Caroline's expression flickered. This man always knew exactly how to hit her where it hurt.
Just as she was about to say something, the door to the reception hall was thrown open violently.
It was another messenger, looking even more battered than the one from that afternoon. He was soaked to the bone and rushed in reeking of salty seawater, his face a mask of ghostly panic. His voice was hoarse.
"Vice President! It's terrible! The latest news from Tarry Port—the Third Fleet has a massive shipworm infestation! These aren't ordinary shipworms. The flagship, the Strong Alcohol, its enchanted Dragonbone Wood has been invaded! In just three days, it's become like waterlogged mud—you can crush it with your bare hands! The Alchemists are powerless!"
CLANG!
The silver cutlery fell from Caroline's hand, clattering loudly on the floor.