Question:
What entity can strip your mind, revive your spirit, flood you with energy, exhaust your body, and leave you clear-headed all at once?
Answer:
A succubus.
And Stana — that woman — wasn't just seductive in appearance; she was a succubus through and through.
Aggressive, eager, with an astonishing fighting spirit — if only her stamina were a little better.
After the endless, tangled gasps finally faded into silence, so ti passed before Pierre reluctantly crawled out of the warm bed.
He ruffled his ssy hair, yawned, and stumbled into the bathroom...
By the ti he erged, Stana lay sprawled limply across the bed, gazing at his broad, muscular back with eyes filled with nothing but deep, infatuated longing.
"Darling," she said softly, "yesterday I received an invitation from Lady Jessup.
She invited to a reading club she's hosting.
If all goes well, it looks like we're about to break into London's high society."
Turning over, Stana stretched languidly, completely unashad to let the sunlight spill over her bare, exquisite figure.
She sighed with a touch of emotion.
"I used to think I had lost everything... but compared to those won, I realize I'm actually quite lucky.
Oh, and darling, did you know?
Her husband was Robert Smith — Governor of North Borneo.
When the Japanese occupied North Borneo, Sir Smith surrendered at Sandakan.
Unfortunately, he died in a POW camp a few months ago from disease."
Pierre, brushing his teeth, didn't bother responding to her sighs.
He sneered inwardly.
Died of illness?
You're too naive.
When have the Japanese ever been rciful?
"And with North Borneo lost," Stana continued, "the company lost its revenues.
They can't even pay salaries now — not to ntion the governor's pension..."
"What? The company paid the governor's salary?
Shouldn't that have been the British governnt's responsibility?"
Pierre asked, spitting out a mouthful of foam, playing along.
Darling, North Borneo belongs to a company, not Britain.
It's a chartered company — don't you know?"
"A chartered company?"
At first, Pierre was just humoring her — but now, he was genuinely curious.
Resting her head on her arm, Stana explained lazily:
"It's a company with a royal charter, ruling thirty thousand square miles of land.
Everything there belongs to the company.
The company runs the territory like a miniature country.
In fact, Jason was a company employee too."
So...
In so ways, it resembled the old East India Company
Pierre hadn't realized that even in the 20th century, such feudal relics still existed.
"Even now, there are companies like that in the British colonies?"
he asked in disbelief.
"Darling, North Borneo isn't technically a colony," Stana said with a sharp tone.
"Even though they had a royal charter, legally it was just private property — a company answering only to its board of directors.
When Sandakan fell, neither the army nor the Royal Navy sent a single battalion to defend it.
To the British governnt, it was rely private land, nothing more."
Her voice was laced with contempt for the British governnt.
But Stana didn't notice that her words had made Pierre lose focus for a mont.
Private land. Not a colony.
aning — that land technically didn't belong to any sovereign nation?
At least not in the usual sense?
If it was company property...
then in theory, it could be bought and sold!
"And now, the ones suffering the most must be the board mbers,"
Stana went on.
"In the past, they pocketed tens of thousands — even hundreds of thousands — of pounds in dividends each year.
Now, they can't even collect their bonuses.
Worse, they're stuck paying off debts."
Her words made Pierre's heart jolt.
"Debts? What debts?"
"Bonds,"
Stana said with a sigh.
"Before the war, the company issued bonds worth several million pounds.
Even though the company's territory was seized, the board is still legally responsible for the debt — and for paying the bond interest."
She yawned lazily, shifting positions so that the sunlight gilded every curve of her body.
"Lady Dent said just the other day that the bondholders had refused the latest request to suspend paynts.
Everyone's desperate for money these days, and though the board mbers are wealthy, they're bleeding cash fast — trying to keep up with those interest paynts."
She added lightly:
"Lady Dent even joked that if any fool was willing, she'd sell her shares imdiately."
Stana stretched languidly and smiled:
"But where on earth would you find such a fool?"
"Maybe... such a fool really exists,"
Pierre said thoughtfully.
"What? Impossible!"
He playfully struck her, enjoying the delightful bounce under his palm.
"I want you to find out more about this company for ,"
he said casually.
"What?"
Stana quickly rolled over, her expression alard.
"Darling — you're not seriously thinking about becoming that fool, are you?
Listen to — even those society ladies know that after the war, Britain will force its colonies into self-rule.
Without the British governnt's support, how could the company survive?
When that happens, those shares will be worthless!"
Looking at her anxious face, Pierre chuckled.
"Aren't they already worthless now?
Not only worthless — but a liability bleeding their fortunes away."
A negative asset was still an asset.
Despite knowing Britain's colonial empire would soon collapse after the war,
Pierre couldn't suppress the growing interest in the North Borneo Company.
At first, he hadn't even known where "North Borneo" was.
Now, thanks to Stana, he learned that it referred to the northern region of Borneo — an area of about 75,000 square kiloters.
Borneo itself (what another world would call Kalimantan) was the third-largest island in the world, covering over 700,000 square kiloters.
He didn't dare dream of the whole island.
But just North Borneo alone — 75,000 square kiloters — was an imnse territory!
More importantly — it wasn't just land.
It was sovereignty.
If he could take advantage of this mont to acquire the North Borneo Company,
he could solve his greatest looming danger:
Becoming prey.
As a Frenchman, he was already enough of an outsider to draw lingering gazes — and in the chaotic scramble of warti fortunes, wealth was often the spark for envy and betrayal.
How could he protect his fortune amid a sea of hungry, envious wolves?
A tiny misstep — and he'd end up their feast.
Pierre had no choice but to tread carefully.
Before, he had no options.
But now...
Now, an opportunity had co.
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