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Simon, who looked like a local native, posed a question that made Lynch chuckle. "Do I really need to know about this 'Pretton Trading House'?" Lynch countered with a smile.
Simon was montarily taken aback, but then he laughed too. His face was kind and approachable, perhaps due in part to his slightly plump figure. Most people with fuller faces don't co across as intimidating; their rounded features often give off an air of gentleness. That's why, while so might dislike them for their size, few ever feel threatened by them.
"Mr. Lynch," Simon began, his tone shifting ever so slightly from the calm deanor he'd displayed when they first t, "if you're just here in Nagalier for tourism, then knowing about the ‘Pretton Trading House' isn't crucial. But if you plan on doing business here, I strongly suggest you familiarize yourself with it—and everything connected to it."
Though Simon's voice hadn't changed much in pitch or volu, there was now a sharper edge to his words—a subtle warning. He was reminding Lynch, perhaps even cautioning him, about the importance of the Pretton Trading House.
But Lynch wasn't one to be easily intimidated. Whether facing soone powerful or powerless, whether he had the ans to resist or not, Lynch wasn't the type to bow under pressure or coercion.
The two locked eyes for a mont before Lynch nodded. "Then, Mr. Simon, would you kindly enlighten
about this… what was it called again?"
"Pretton Trading House!" Simon emphasized the na slightly, betraying his irritation at Lynch's apparent forgetfulness. He didn't believe for a second that Lynch had genuinely forgotten the term so quickly—it was clearly deliberate. Nevertheless, Simon pressed on, fulfilling his duty to explain.
Strictly speaking, the Pretton Trading House wasn't owned by any single individual, nor did it operate exactly like a traditional trading company. Instead, it functioned more like a rchants' association. Every quarter, the organization held a shareholders' eting, attended by a significant number of foreign businessn engaged in comrcial ventures across Nagalier. These individuals were, for the most part, shareholders in the Pretton Trading House.
During these etings, participants discussed and allocated each mber's share of business opportunities and quotas for the upcoming quarter through relatively peaceful negotiations.
On paper, such an arrangent sounded implausible—how could a re rchant association wield so much influence? Yet, sohow, it did. And much of its power stemd from its largest shareholder, Mr. Pretton himself.
Before becoming a businessman, Mr. Pretton had served in the navy. His deep fascination with the sea and his adventurous spirit shaped his approach to comrce. As Simon explained, Lynch understood perfectly well why Pretton's naval background mattered. Mariti transport, though the primary thod for long-distance trade, wasn't nearly as safe as many assud. Shipwrecks occurred daily around the world—so reported, others ignored.
Mr. Pretton had earned people's trust by establishing fair and reasonable rules that everyone, including himself, adhered to. Moreover, all mbers hoped newcors would join their ranks, further solidifying the network.
"...That's the gist of it, Mr. Lynch," Simon concluded. "But joining the Pretton Trading House offers far more benefits than what I've described."
"For instance," Simon raised his voice slightly, "we provide real-ti updates on trends—what's currently popular in Tiaret, which goods are losing value in darik, and so forth. You won't have to deal with those detestable information brokers. A simple phone call will give you access to the latest commodity prices worldwide, greatly facilitating international trade."
"You see," Simon continued, "sotis we'd rather pay penalties than fulfill contracts. We leave shipnts sitting at ports temporarily because, without reliable channels like ours, our losses would be far greater."
At first glance, breaking contracts seed extre, but it happened frequently in international trade, especially during periods of rapid price fluctuations. Imagine a shipnt worth ten thousand units in the morning skyrocketing to a million by evening. In such cases, traders preferred paying triple or quintuple penalties to avoid missing out on massive profits.
This volatility was particularly pronounced during warti. Certain minerals and essential industrial materials saw drastic price swings daily. The discovery of new mines after conquering territories could cause prices to plumt, while attacks on mining facilities leading to reduced output—or even temporary cessation—could send costs soaring overnight.
Such fluctuations occurred constantly, even now during post-war reconstruction efforts. Demand for raw materials remained high, often exceeding warti levels. After all, building always required more resources than destroying.
Having a robust and stable information network beca critical. Through discreet thods and shared intelligence, Mr. Pretton effortlessly united many rchants operating in Nagalier, forming a unique interest group centered around him.
This unity irked local rulers. When these rchants banded together, they beca difficult to manage and increasingly greedy. It was only natural. In competitive environnts, a small elite typically reaped the lion's share of profits, leaving scraps for others. Now, with profits distributed among mbers, no one felt particularly shortchanged—at least superficially. Everyone appeared to win, though reality painted a different picture.
The top players saw reduced earnings, while smaller rchants lacking competitiveness benefited disproportionately. To satisfy demands for higher profits, increasing profit margins beca the go-to strategy. Higher prices ant bigger profits—but also drew accusations of greed from local authorities.
"Mr. Lynch," Simon leaned forward earnestly, "this is a golden opportunity. I urge you to join us. Such chances are rare!"
Aside from receiving a personal call from Mr. Pretton, recent events involving Lynch left Simon deeply unsettled. Within the territory overseen by the Pretton Trading House, the province of Magura fell under Simon's purview. Spices, animal pelts, jewels, and gold ford the bulk of his trade.
Until recently, everything had been harmonious. Simon knew about Mishahaya and others harassing Lynch. Initially, everyone chuckled over how long Lynch might last against the governor's hostility. They anticipated stepping in once Lynch reached his breaking point, offering him refuge within the Pretton Trading House, helping him overco difficulties, and granting him a modest share of business.
Their plan seed foolproof. Reality, however, proved otherwise. No one knew precisely how Lynch navigated the situation, only that he agreed to so of Mishahaya's demands. In return, Mishahaya—actually the Provincial Governor—might grant Lynch exclusive rights to certain commodities and control over import-export trades.
This developnt alard Simon. If Lynch aligned with the Provincial Governor, the entire trade landscape of Magura Province would shift dramatically. Established traders would face awkward choices: adapt to the ruler's changing stance and Lynch's newfound authority or leave altogether.
Years of investnt tied them to this region. Abandoning their businesses and profits here would devastate them.
Coupled with Mr. Pretton's direct phone call, this prompted Simon's eting with Lynch. Gazing at Lynch's youthful face, Simon felt both admiration and unease. Would Lynch accept the offer? He searched Lynch's expression for clues.
After a contemplative pause, Lynch weighed the pros and cons. Truthfully, he found the Pretton Trading House intriguing. Shared international trade information was invaluable.
Globally, aside from a handful of nations with direct telephone lines or relay systems, many countries lacked efficient communication infrastructure. For example, between the Federation and Nagalier, no direct phone line existed. Telegrams were expensive, unreliable, and insecure, prompting reliance on letters.
Letters, unfortunately, took ages—up to a week if lucky, half a month or longer otherwise. Trade opportunities often arose and vanished within brief windows. Missing them ant losing forever.
Wait half a month?
By then, it would be too late!
Yet, despite the allure, Lynch hesitated to commit. He pondered ways to enjoy the Trading House's advantages without formally joining. His gaze returned to Simon, tinged with amusent, making Simon uneasy. Checking his attire and smoothing his chin, Simon steeled himself to et Lynch's eyes.
"Well, Mr. Lynch? Have you decided?"
Lynch arched an eyebrow, shaking his head. "I can't answer imdiately. I need ti to consider. I never force decisions on others, nor do I appreciate being pressured. Do you understand?"
Though displeased, Simon forced a smile and nodded. "Of course, careful consideration is wise..."
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