Reve was struggling internally when the butler brought the manager of the trade caravan, Caberri.
The latter entered the room and imdiately presented his resignation to Reve, citing health issues as the reason. Of course, the real reason was that the Trade Alliance had offered him too much to refuse.
Reve tried desperately to retain him. Caberri was the main person in charge of the daily affairs of the caravan; if he left, it would have a severe impact on the caravan.
But Caberri's attitude was very resolute, and he quickly threw down his resignation letter and left.
Reve pounded the table and roared for a while, but soon slumped down, then looked at his son and shook his head, "We can't sacrifice the entire caravan for the sake of Ford. Go and make contact with soone from the Trade Alliance tomorrow; if possible, we'll join as well.
"I'll raise so funds. If Viscount Ford still insists on going it alone, then we'll take the caravan's old hands and re-establish a new caravan."
If you can't beat them, join them. Even 18th-century rchants understood this "principle."
Like in Champagne, trade caravans across France that had participated in halting trade soon regretted it.
Many caravans opted to resu business and even sought to join the Trade Alliance, as once the market is lost, it's difficult to regain, and currently, the Trade Alliance firmly held a huge market share.
As for those tax-fard caravans that were completely owned by their bosses, although they had to hibernate and lose money under strict orders, it did not affect their employees from switching jobs in large numbers.
...
Marseille.
The salty sea breeze swept through the busy port. Morning sunlight penetrated the mist, shining on the mountains of goods piled up. anwhile, various sizes of rchant ships were continuously docking, ready to unload more cargo.
Old Fickman adjusted the collar of his thin, worn jacket to block the chill creeping into his neck. However, he was not worried about freezing, as he would soon be busy and the heavy goods on his shoulders would quickly make him sweat profusely.
Yet, just as he and a few fellow dockworkers reached the outskirts of the docks, they were blocked by a short man with a wide and flat nose and drooping eyes at the corners.
He recognized the man; it was Hogot, an overseer under Master Philippe Antonelle. Antonelle controlled over half of the warehouses on the west side of the docks, making him one of the largest forces in the Port of Marseille.
Old Fickman and his companions quickly stepped forward and bowed, "Master Hogot, what can we do for you?"
The latter looked down his nose at them and commanded coldly, "Go ho, no need to co to the docks today."
The workers were montarily stunned; one of them urgently asked, "Master, what's happened? If we don't work, my family will have nothing to eat…"
"Give each of them 15 sous."
Hogot signaled disdainfully to his subordinate, who imdiately pulled out a handful of copper coins and handed them to Fickman and the others, "Don't talk back, just go ho."
"Ah, is this for ? Thank you, Master, thank you!"
The dockworkers repeatedly bowed. Although the 15 sous were slightly less than what they could earn, they were happy to take money without any fairness involved.
Then, Hogot pointed at them and said, "Don't go to the docks for the next fortnight. Just co here to collect your money daily."
Fickman and the others thanked him again and were about to turn and leave when a man in a dirty coarse linen coat with patches on his trousers squeezed through from behind them and whispered with a smile, "Why don't we just circle around from the south side to the docks and continue working? We'd earn the 15 sous for free then."
Hogot imdiately glared nacingly, not recognizing who this person was—despite having been around the Port of Marseille for over a decade, there were few dockworkers he didn't know—but judging by his attire, he was definitely a laborer. So, he grabbed him by the collar and growled fiercely, "Are you asking for a beating? Get lost; you wouldn't want to see enraged!"
The man glanced at the copper coin in his hand but appeared unphased, "You are disrupting the normal order of the docks."
Hogot threw a punch at him, but the man dodged it by tilting his head.
"This is outright assault," the man said as he broke free from the grip, addressing Fickman and the others, "You all saw it."
Enraged, Hogot signaled his subordinates to teach this troublemaker a lesson, but he stopped in sheer terror just a few steps forward—the "laborer" had pulled a pistol from behind his back.
Soon, more people rushed from across the street and knocked Hogot and his subordinates to the ground, securely binding them.
The man with the pistol addressed Fickman and his companions, smiling, "Now, you can go to work. Oh, Gemini Trading Company has a lot of cargo arriving at the port these days, and it's said that the wages could be at least 20% higher than usual."
The dockworkers exchanged glances and timidly handed over the money Hogot had earlier given them, "Old master, he forced this money on us."
"I don't know why he gave money…"
"Since it's a gift from him, you may as well keep it," the ard man said, "By the way, I've heard so people might threaten workers at the docks not to work, so Marseille City Hall is planning to hire Italians to move the goods."
Fearing that Italians would take their jobs, which they depended on to survive, Fickman and the others exchanged glances and quickly ran toward the docks.
They had to prove to the employers that they were more enduring and reliable than the Italians.
And according to what this gentleman said, they could also earn 20% more these days, so they definitely needed to work hard!
Similar scenarios played out across the Port of Marseille, with a large number of police in dockworkers' attire striking everywhere, catching more than 30 instigators of the strike in one day.
This was Besancon's deploynt.
Initially, he intended to deploy a massive number of police to surround the Port of Marseille to prevent a large-scale strike, but later, one of his subordinates suggested that it would be too conspicuous and allow those lurking as instigators to easily avoid the police.
So, he decided to have the police blend in with the workers instead, making it easy to catch the instigators of the strike when they contacted the workers.
Soon, the news that dockworkers at the Port of Marseille could earn extra and that Italian workers might flood the docks spread, prompting the original dockworkers to rush to the docks in desperation for work.
Even those who originally worked different jobs also ca, trying to grab a share of the opportunity.
In the afternoon, several confidants of the tax farrs, including Antonelle, were arrested by police on charges of inciting riot, identified by their subordinates.
The chaotic situation at the Port of Marseille, ticulously planned by Ford and others, had barely begun before it was declared bankrupt.
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