When the Saintess Arrives, No King Exist-Chapter 750 - 705: 20 Dinar Defense Battle

Imperial Calendar, December 15th, 1447, early morning.

Marjor, with the latest issue of the "Mast Newspaper" tucked under his arm, walked into the tea restaurant next to the Branded City exchange.

As soon as he sat down, a familiar attendant expertly handed him a cup of black tea and a list from the exchange.

Marjor was in no hurry to read it; he leaned back against the velvet cushioned chair, his gaze wandering from the expensive glass window to the outside.

The exchange, transformed from the Knight Castle, stood amidst the low street houses, with a few beggars huddled under the corners.

The "T"-shaped intersection in front of the exchange was quiet, a row of street trees swaying their branches.

The sea breeze blew away the leaves, and the bare branches waved, as if saluting Marjor.

Indeed, he was the first to arrive.

Though arriving early or late made no difference before the exchange opened, Marjor nevertheless felt proud of his diligence.

Other heads of major family conglomerates often slept until noon, yet he was here at five every morning to gather information.

Have you ever seen Branded City at five o'clock in the morning?

This diligence was precisely the main reason Marjor and his father transformed from bankrupt Barons into the commercial tycoons of today.

From acquiring the first sugar workshop to becoming the largest monopolistic sugar magnate in Branded City, he had experienced countless hardships.

Perhaps Marjor now could say it was only a bit of wear and tear, but back when he started, how many bones were buried in mass graves alongside his peers?

Of course, it was also thanks to the camaraderie of the old guard of Windmill Land Leia; without the support of His Majesty the King, how could they have today's market?

It's important to note that Marjor's rise as a tycoon mainly relied on selling sugar within the Leia Kingdom.

Otherwise, where would such a large market share come from?

The cost was Marjor and other commercial aristocrats had to use their money to control the City Council and City Hall, forcing them to share Leia's commercial taxes and pay the city redemption fees on time.

Sipping the black tea slowly, Marjor showed a graceful smile: "Attendant, come here; this one gold pound, exchange it for Dinar and give it to those beggars.

The New Year Festival is approaching, I don't want anyone dying of hunger at this time."

"You are truly merciful."

After exchanging the gold pound for a bag of Dinars and seeing the attendant leave, Marjor felt proud.

He was not stingy in performing charitable acts, which greatly bolstered his reputation and position within the council.

As his eyes followed the attendant out towards the beggars, his gaze suddenly intensified.

Even though it was only around five o'clock, dozens of carriages were relentlessly racing towards the exchange; the horse of the carriage in the back almost had its head poking into the wheel of the one in front.

Dozens of carriages drifted in front of the exchange, and before they had even stopped, disheveled agents jumped out like dumplings.

Some fell, others twisted their ankles, yet they resolutely and anxiously rushed towards the exchange.

What's happening?

Marjor held the teacup to his lips, yet was so distracted by the scene that he delayed drinking.

After the carriages first entered, rumbling footsteps could be heard from the street corner.

Like a flood bypassing a mountain pass, thousands of muddled flood-like citizens appeared in Marjor's line of sight.

They pushed and shoved eagerly, knee to knee and forehead to the back of the head, sweat dripping from one's neck onto another's arm.

The cacophonous sound was like dozens of bands drumming in his ears, and speculators in coarse cloth and silk jackets screamed, clutching contracts and agreements tightly.

Watching the two streams of people rushing from both sides of the street, Marjor's expression gradually grew somber.

If it had been only a few agents, it might have been a small ripple; but now with so many people, it must be a major upheaval.

Especially seeing the head of the Friel Clan among them, he was shocked and stood up.

Grabbing the napkin on his thigh, he wiped his mouth hurriedly, threw a gold pound onto the table, and jogged towards the door.

Just as he reached the doorway, he saw his broker arrive just in time, and he immediately grabbed him by the collar: "What's happening?"

"Mr. Marjor, there's been a major incident, yesterday at Dam City, 48,000 loads of refined sugar landed, the opening price has already dropped to 29 Dinar..."

Upon hearing "48,000 loads of refined sugar landed," Marjor couldn't hear another word after that.

The rich color in his face gradually faded, leaving only a paleness.

Marjor is a major oligarch; his losses are far more terrifying than those of Fan Mei'er.

Not to mention the sugar hoarded in warehouses, the current futures contracts alone could make him lose tens of thousands of gold pounds.

Forty-eight thousand loads of sugar, which is comparable to the entire annual amount in the Windmill Land market. To maintain the sugar price, the oligarchs need to spend millions of gold pounds to purchase.

This is millions of gold pounds!

The Leia Royal Family only has an income of a few million gold pounds a year?

But even if they manage to gather millions in liquid assets, it will be too late to stop the trend of sugar price losses.

Sugar prices will plunge by at least forty percent!

By then, the capital chain will break, workshops and docks won't be able to operate, and forced requisitions will spell disaster.

What Marjor fears most isn't even this; if this cheap sugar rushes in, it will inevitably take over the local sugar mill's market share.

These sugar mills are the true source of Marjor's wealth.

If he loses in futures, so be it; just a few tight days after all.

If his sugar market share is taken, then he'll truly be reduced to nothing.

His sugar workshop uses the most advanced dripping method for sugar making, with a monthly production of less than twenty loads.

How did they manage forty-eight thousand loads of sugar?

"This is malicious dumping, this is malicious dumping!" Marjor roared, his hands trembling, unable to stand steadily, "We'll go to City Hall and demand a court ruling."

"Mr. Marjor, we should quickly cut our losses," the broker said anxiously, unable to complete his sentences, "This batch of sugar is being distributed by the El Commerce Association; the judge won't speak for us."

Marjor immediately realized that this was a trap set by those El people!

Gripping the broker's wrist tightly, Marjor ordered fiercely, "You go buy back the contracts, as fast as possible, as many as possible, have people guard the docks, I'll go find other families."

Though his expression was resolute, as he spoke, the sound of his teeth chattering was constantly heard from his mouth.

......

As a dozen bodies from jumps appeared under the clock tower in Dam City, the year-end sugar market in Windmill Land officially opened.

In just three days, the oligarchs fought desperately to stabilize the sugar price around 28 Dinars.

But the El merchants were not to be underestimated either.

In this sugar war, the El people targeted the oligarchs' warehouses, docks, and workshops.

From the fourth day, the El people and the nobles from Red Leaf Hill officially entered the arena.

The flow of people in the exchange moved back and forth, wailing and screaming, the noisy voices mixed together made it impossible to hear whether it was buying or selling.

The brokers lamented, "Don't be afraid, this is just a technical adjustment," but the sugar price still almost dropped at the rate of half a Dinar every hour.

In the Masthead News, the Stormwind Family publicly issued articles for several days, calling on citizens to defend the sugar price and fight the 20 Dinar defense battle, holding the 20 Dinar bottom line.

It's a pity that the 20 Dinar defense battle had just been fought for a day when the Stormwind Family suddenly took three large ships of gold and silver essentials and headed to Falan.

The sugar price immediately plunges like a cliff.

The day after the sugar price fell below 20 Dinar, several more richly dressed bodies appeared under the clock tower.

However, this was not the most terrifying thing for the sugar workshop masters and speculators; what frightened them most was a piece of news from a guest merchant.

At Gold and Silver Flower Port in the Falan Kingdom, someone saw five merchant ships flying the Thousand River Valley Trading Company flag set sail.

Most speculator contracts in September settle at year-end; if five more ships of sugar come now, everyone will be doomed.

In the Windmill Land Exchange, where rumors were flying, a panic fear grew wildly, and so they recalled the neutral guest newspaper "Yilin," which was "related" to the Thousand River Valley.

The previously deserted "Yilin" newspaper office became the second busiest place in Dam City.

People gathered in front of the three-story building, those who arrived early with money could still grab a seat in the tea restaurant, while those who arrived late could only squat under the eaves.

Unfortunately, the doors of the "Yilin" newspaper office were tightly locked.

The only information the gatekeeper could give was — the printing room was set on fire, and it would be difficult to publish before repairs.

The only thought in the minds of those waiting for the newspaper to open was: Where on earth has Lupher gone?