The Lich of Glory Knight Spirit: Moving towards Krimasha! Chapter 283 - 29: New Plan (2)2

Alright, the top three most profitable businesses have nothing to do with Jones.

After thinking for a mont, Jones asked, "What about slting?"

"Slting?" Adelle was montarily taken aback.

"Yes, like a blacksmith shop. I want to get into this type of business. After all, there are lots of dwarves in Giant Snake City... well, not that many, but maybe there could be more in the future."

"Hmm... it depends on what kind of slting you’re thinking of. If it’s slting within Hilde’s range..." Adelle turned their face, pointing out of the carriage window at a fairly large blacksmith shop in the distance. "That kind of business is already being done, and the market is saturated. The profit margins are pretty average. The Sambo family also runs blacksmith shops, but we only require them to not go bankrupt."

"Does it lose money?"

"No, since we use slaves, but it’ll never turn a real profit. The margins are extrely thin."

"You just ntioned ’what kind,’ are there other slting businesses?"

"Trade." Adelle smiled subtly at Jones and said with a aningful look, "We don’t need a large amount of ironware, but there are those on the continent who do—like the humans. When they go to war, they need an enormous amount of weapons and armor, and the profits can be astonishing. In fact, when we first established the blacksmith shops, this was the primary reason. However, getting this kind of business is extrely difficult. They don’t go to war every day, and when there’s no war, one set of armor or a single sword can last them several generations. Moreover, not every human wants to do business with the Blood Clan, making those contracts hard to secure."

Are those contracts really so hard to get?

Jones thought it seed easy. While he couldn’t borrow money, if the weapons and armor were both high quality and cheap, securing those contracts wouldn’t be difficult. However, achieving both quality and affordability would be a major challenge. Given the poor transportation infrastructure in Giant Snake City, even transporting gold ore resulted in losses. If they were to transport iron goods, the profits might not even cover the shipping costs.

Wait!

Suddenly, sothing occurred to Jones!

"That shop you pointed at earlier—is that your family’s blacksmith shop?"

"Yes."

"Can we go there first?"

"You want to visit the blacksmith shop?"

"Yes, I want to buy sothing."

Adelle tapped lightly on the wooden panel of the carriage and said softly, "Turn around, head to the blacksmith shop."

"Understood, Young Master," the coachman replied.

Soon, the unicorn-pulled carriage stopped in front of the blacksmith shop.

For a blacksmith shop, this one could be considered enormous. At least in the Human World, shops of this scale were rarely seen. Of course, rarely could one see a shop so rundown, either.

Standing outside, it appeared to be nothing more than a large, featureless square building with a massive, wide-open door.

The hallmark of a giant blacksmith shop—a hanging iron ingot sign—swayed slightly in the wind, producing a grating "creak, creak" sound.

The gray walls seed to be peeling, and the wooden structure looked incredibly old. The road outside was muddy, with a foot-trodden path full of rust and coal dust leading straight into the shop.

At this mont, the blacksmith shop was filled with the roar of intense flas burning, the "clang, clang" of forging tal, and occasional sounds of whipping and shouting.

In the depths of winter, the heat emanating from the blacksmith shop made it so standing at the door gave no sense of the cold—in fact, it even felt warm.

Led by Adelle, Jones entered the blacksmith shop.

From the outside, the shop appeared to have two stories—a second floor featuring windows and even a large balcony. However, upon entering, it beca clear the so-called second floor was rely a zzanine. The majority of the building consisted of a massive, single-floor space, occupying more than eighty percent of the shop. It felt more like a giant warehouse.

Within this warehouse were rows upon rows of furnaces, too many to count. Unfortunately, most of the furnaces had gone cold. Only less than twenty percent were in operation, staffed by no more than thirty or forty dwarves—each covered in gri and ash.

A few Blood Clan mbers road back and forth, supervising.

Every corner of the place was coated in a layer of coal dust, making everything appear blackened. The fire crackling in an iron basin mounted to the wall cast faint red hues over everything.

The air, heavy and searing, filled every nook and cranny. The overall conditions were extrely harsh.

Not far from Jones, a middle-aged dwarven slave, shackled and hamring a piece of iron, glanced silently up at him before lowering his head and resuming work.

That glance allowed Jones to notice the dwarf was blind in one eye.

On a distant balcony, a Blood Clan mber with two small mustaches and slicked-back, shiny hair spotted Adelle. He froze montarily before hastily putting his notebook down and rushing down the stairs, jogging to stand before Adelle.

With a bow, he greeted respectfully, "Welco, Young Master Adelle, welco to the shop! How may I assist you?"

Turning slightly, Adelle said to Jones, "Jones, whatever you want to buy, just tell him. If it’s sothing small, I’ll have him give it to you."

Scanning the surroundings, Jones asked softly, "You only have this many dwarves?"

"Not exactly," Little Mustache replied with a smile. "Half of them are resting. You know, dwarves are different from us Blood Clan; they need more rest. If overworked, it could shorten their lifespan, which would be a loss for us. But typically, this is about how many work at a ti—we implent a rotation system."

"So, at any given ti, only this many dwarves are actually working?"

"Uh..." Little Mustache shot a pleading glance at Adelle.

However, Adelle simply instructed him, "Answer his question. This is my brother, Jones."

Resigned, Little Mustache forced an awkward smile and replied, "That’s correct, Young Master Jones. Business hasn’t been great recently, so we sold off a portion of the dwarf slaves a while back. In the past, the number of dwarves here was five tis what it is now. The current count is the optimal number we calculated. Sure, many furnaces are idle, but that’s fine. It costs the most to reheat a cold furnace. With these numbers, we can keep a portion active continuously, which is the most economical. As for the idle furnaces... there’s nothing we can do about them—they’ll remain unused. However, if you need more workers, I can gather them anyti. Rest assured, we can et your needs."

After a pause, Little Mustache tentatively asked, "Is there sothing you’d like to do for you?"

"Is the overhead here high?" Jones pressed.

Little Mustache was caught off guard—he wasn’t used to custors diving straight into workforce and expense discussions the mont they arrived. Still, with Adelle present, he braced himself and answered, "It depends on which aspect. Fixed costs aren’t much—it’s just the dwarves’ food. But if you include operating costs, it’s quite high: fuel, materials... But those costs aren’t an issue. The higher the operating costs, the more business we have, and the more profit we generate."

"Are you currently operating at a loss?"

"No, we’re not. Profiting, albeit barely." Little Mustache gestured, sneaking another glance at Adelle.

"Specifically? What do you an by ’barely’? How much did you make last month? What about the month before that?" Jones pressed further.

This line of questioning left Little Mustache visibly embarrassed.

"Answer him," Adelle insisted again.

Resigned, Little Mustache exhaled deeply before replying, "After deducting all expenses, we made five hundred Gold Coins last month. The month prior, we lost two hundred. But the month before that, we made five thousand Gold Coins. Averaged over a year, that’s about... five hundred Gold Coins of profit per month. Yes, that’s correct."

"Why did you lose two hundred Gold Coins the month before last? Did you not get any orders? Even without orders, the dwarves couldn’t have consud two hundred Gold Coins’ worth of food, right?"

"Uh... salaries."

"The dwarves here get salaries?"

"No, it’s for and the other Blood Clan mbers—not the dwarves." Casting another glance at Adelle, Little Mustache awkwardly clarified, "I should make it clear that the Blood Clan mbers working here are not slaves. We are free individuals and require salaries."

"Alright, I understand." Smiling, Jones pulled out a Gold Coin and said, "I’ll buy five iron ingots."

For a mont, Little Mustache’s expression froze.

Indeed, five iron ingots for one Gold Coin, with change given—it was likely the smallest transaction Little Mustache had handled in quite so ti.