Capítulo 1599: Chapter 88: A Visitor from Afar (Part 11)
So for the as yet unregistered husband of the heiress and the entire future of Navarre Comrce, Leo’s attitude was one of utmost reverence.
After deciding to place his bet on Winters Montagne, he hadn’t said “no” to the forr even once.
But when faced with the honest-looking “Wolf’s Heart,” Leo exercised ticulous caution as if dealing with a business rival.
“Of course, sir,” Leo took a mont to gather his words and responded earnestly, “Why else would the Hurders proactively propose to dissolve the agreent if not for so benefit?
“But this is only temporary, as the nomads’ need for settlers is far greater than settlers’ need for nomads.
“Dissolving the agreent might bring the Red River Tribe a small profit, but sooner or later, they’ll pay for their shortsightedness.”
“Fernando is right, sir!”
A voice as loud as Andre’s rang out, and Niccolo Polo, having sohow paused his technical exchange with Mason, joined the conversation,
he proclaid boldly, “What the barbarians can offer are rely four major items—livestock, leather, tendons and horns, wool; four minor items—dicinal herbs, mushrooms, butter, cheese; then there’s the hard goods—gold, silver, gems, agate.”
Though Niccolo Polo’s voice was rough, for so reason, whenever he spoke, whether storytelling or reasoning, it always seed to make others smile and listen.
Counting on his fingers, “But there are so many things they cannot provide: flour, cloth, iron goods, spirits—things to eat, wear, use, and play with…”
Niccolo Polo smiled, baring his teeth, “Especially ‘playthings,’ let tell you, amongst people like you, that on the wasteland, many items are dispensable. Without fabrics, they wear hides; without white flour, they eat wild wheat—just a bit dirtier, a bit rougher—grit and bear it, and life goes on.
“However, once the supply is available, the demand imdiately unleashes itself.
“When the commoners want to buy linen, the ‘descendants’ must wear satin; when commoners wish for wooden bowls, the ‘chieftains’ will need silver plates; when commoners hang a mat in their yurt, the ‘khans’ will require a full suite of furnishings.
Niccolo Polo intoned like a bard, “Never think the Hurders are so poor that there’s no profit in doing business with them, as the old desert wolves say—the more valuable the coveted goods, the greater the profit on the Great Wilderness.”
The dining room fell quiet for a mont, and Winters was the first to applaud.
“Brilliant,” Winters laughed, “I never imagined you were not only well-versed with the secrets of the Desert Sea but also so knowledgeable about the Great Wilderness, Mr. Polo.”
“Just familiar, that’s all,” Niccolo Polo shook his head with a bitter smile.
“Oh?”
Leo and Matteo Konar exchanged a glance, with Leo opting to speak.
“Sir, actually…” Leo explained with a smile, “Before venturing into the Broken Land, the Peruzzi Trading Company specialized in business on the Hurd Wasteland. Later, due to the blockade decision by the Paratu Grand Council against the Hurd Tribes, the Peruzzi Trading Company then broke new ground south of the Jinding Mountains.”
“What do you an ‘broke new ground’?” Niccolo Polo laughed heartily, though his laughter carried a hint of desolation, “It was more like forced compromise, painfully cutting off a limb, a desperate struggle like a trapped animal, risking everything to survive—given a choice, who would willingly abandon ten generations of business to lead cals through the Broken Land? To seek a livelihood in the Gobi Desert? As for today’s success, it’s re luck.”
Reflecting inwardly, from the first glance at Niccolo Polo, Winters hadn’t fully trusted the seemingly rugged man.
After conversing, Polo’s frequent indifference when speaking about his tragic experiences bothered Winters further.
Perhaps a naive child like Scarlett would be drawn to such deanor, but in Winters’ cold gaze, Niccolo Polo’s mannerisms appeared pretentious and showy.
This man, who seed indifferent to everything and needed nothing, was, in reality, eager for others’ attention. Thus, he might exaggerate stories, just to keep everyone’s eyes focused on him.
But Winters constantly reminded himself—the craving for attention is not a moral failing, and to judge soone solely on this basis would be the true moral flaw.
So Winters, while reflecting, listened cautiously to Niccolo Polo’s words.
Bard probably felt the sa—though Winters hadn’t had a chance to exchange thoughts with Bard regarding Niccolo Polo and Matteo Konar tonight, their mutual understanding required only a glance.
Yet from Niccolo Polo’s earlier sorrowful laugh, Winters felt a touch of sothing “real.”
But the more “real” sothing is, the harder it is to express.
“Indeed,” Winters could only sigh softly and say sothing cautiously correct, “an inevitability.”
Niccolo Polo sniffed, then coughed, as if to regain his usual defiant and cavalier look.
“Hey,” he clapped his hands, spread them wide, and grinned, “Since we’re all friends here, let’s speak frankly!”
“Sir,” Niccolo Polo looked at Winters, “I’ll speak plainly—don’t believe the Paratu folks’ tales about blockades, sieges, and trade embargoes, they’re nonsense!
“The truth is, the Paratu People couldn’t compete with us Venetians and found an excuse to drive us out so they could monopolize the grassland trade. They cut off our trade routes, confiscated our warehouses, expelled our staff, while issuing permit after permit for themselves. Intelligence gathering? Bah! Shaless day-sheep folk! If they’re going to rob, just admit it instead of wrapping it in grandiose words.”
Niccolo Polo’s sudden tirade against the Paratu People left the others unsure of what expression to adopt. Even though the concentration of Paratu People in this dining room was low, there was at least one pure Paratu person at the table, no matter how one calculated.
Luckily, this Paratu person was blind, so the INCoalitionals, Venetians, immigrants, and second-generation immigrants didn’t need to worry about their peculiar expressions being seen.
“Fortunately, the situation has changed! Those day-sheep folks have ssed up themselves!” Niccolo Polo’s tone shifted dramatically, and he laughed heartily, boasting, “As long as you lead us, Peruzzi Trading Company will definitely rekindle the grassland trade! Our business is yours! Your matters are ours. Just one word from you, and Peruzzi Trading will charge forward, without question!”
Winters couldn’t help but smile. Instead of replying imdiately, he looked toward Mr. Leo and Matteo Konar.
The old man, gaunt and black, sipped his wine impassively, as if the matter did not concern him.
Mr. Leo still wore his amiable smile, though his shoulders seed a bit stiff.
Winters thus confird that Niccolo Polo was improvising.
“I appreciate your firm’s trust, Mr. Polo,” Winters eased the tension, the earlier flicker of “truth” allowing him to be more lenient toward Niccolo Polo’s rashness, “But I only need you to do what you excel at, ‘charging into the fray’ isn’t necessary.”
Leo slightly relaxed his neck, relieved that the Blood of the Wolf wasn’t angry.
Perhaps Niccolo Polo was unaware of who Winters Montagne truly was, but Leo knew very well that the rejected son-in-law of Lady Navarre was very similar to her in certain aspects—they both responded better to soft approaches than hard ones.
“Sir, Niccolo mistakenly assud that I had discussed with you in advance, which is why he acted so rashly,” Leo admitted sincerely, “It was my oversight…”
Winters waved a hand to bring the conversation back to serious matters, “Mr. Leo, you only answered one question earlier, and not the second—how do we guarantee that Red River Tribe won’t acquire things we’re unwilling for them to have, even if we’re willing to sacrifice short-term inco for long-term interests?”
Leo wiped his brow, cleared his throat, about to answer.
Matteo Konar suddenly interjected, “Rather than that, I’m more curious—why are you unwilling to sell weapons to the Red River Tribe? According to you, the Red River Tribe is in desperate need of weapons and refined iron, and you could sell at a hefty price.”
Winters regarded the gaunt old man, who t his gaze unflinchingly.
“The White Lion has the potential to unify the Hurd Tribes,” Winters stated concisely, “I don’t wish for this scenario to occur, at least not to hasten its advent.”
“Then it’s simple,” Matteo Konar replied coolly, “Sell to the Red River Tribe, too. No sense in speeding up the process.”
“””
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