CHAPTER 226: CHAPTER 191: A THREE-YEAR AGREEMENT_3

Lance looked at Tiffany with surprise, not expecting her to be so willing to take responsibility, and couldn’t help but nod, affirming her courage.

Just as Tiffany thought there might be a favorable turn, Lance’s casual remark plunged her into the Abyss.

"When I went with you to the slave market, how much were the daughters of those merchants on the third floor worth? A few dozen Gold Coins, rarely ever over a hundred. Do you think you can clear this debt?"

Tiffany was stunned by these words. Even Walter, who had adopted a humble attitude, couldn’t help but show anger at the implication.

But Lance continued to speak as if unaffected.

"I’m not saying this to humiliate you. I’m telling you that some things aren’t just about whether you think you can handle them. You need actual strength; otherwise, you’ll just make a laughingstock of yourself."

Lance’s words were direct and elicited different reactions from them.

Tiffany realized she had assumed too much.

For Walter, it was more a feeling of powerlessness, seeing his daughter treated this way.

"Alright, regardless, Tiffany has helped me a lot along the way. Out of consideration for her, I’m willing to offer you another choice."

Lance had said so much, continuously chipping away at their options, all for this moment.

"Work for me for three years. During this period, you’ll receive the treatment you’re due. After three years, we’re even. Whether you stay or go then, I won’t interfere."

Was this option hard to accept?

Not really. A three-year commitment was a quantifiable condition compared to a sum of money they could never repay.

But three years was neither long nor short, and no one knew what might happen in that time.

"You’re resentful, thinking I took your family business?"

"Not at all! If not for you, my lord, by now..." Walter dared not continue and hastily denied it.

Lance raised his hand to stop Walter. "You’ve been isolated in Hamlet for over two months. Do you know what the situation is like outside?"

Walter didn’t quite understand the relevance, but the appearance of so many refugees made it clear that times outside were far from good.

"Natural disasters and man-made calamities, constant turmoil throughout the Empire. Cities in the Central Province have even been breached by refugees. Not even Totnes has been spared; there are hundreds of thousands of refugees outside its walls, and the number is still growing. So many have died in the fighting that the rivers have turned red.

Pirates run rampant on the seas, brazenly attacking merchant ships. Bandits wreak havoc on the roads, robbing travelers indiscriminately. You can ask your daughter and wife; they’ve seen it with their own eyes.

The chaotic era has begun. You couldn’t protect your family business today. Even if I returned everything to you, do you think you could protect it tomorrow?"

Walter’s expression was a little odd as he heard this, and he couldn’t help but look at his daughter.

When she nodded slightly, he fell into silence.

He had received news of a drought in the Central Province two months prior. He was certain there would be poor harvests and rising grain prices. That was why he had risked bandit attacks to come to Hamlet, hoping to make a fortune. He just hadn’t anticipated getting trapped.

Yet he hadn’t expected things to escalate to this extent in a mere two months. Doesn’t the Empire care?

Walter knew he was just a minor merchant. It’s best I look out for myself first, he mused.

"Alright, three years it is."

He had no choice but to exchange three years of his time for his family’s safety.

Besides, managing a farm wasn’t particularly difficult. He would also have more time to spend with his family, teach his children, and make up for the care he hadn’t shown them previously due to his busy schedule.

Lance, of course, noticed his expression and couldn’t help but grin.

"I want you to manage the merchant group again, control the grain trade that was originally within Hamlet’s territory, and also be responsible for the commerce between Hamlet and Totnes."

"But..." Walter knew these three years wouldn’t be so simple. To control the grain trade in this region, he couldn’t bypass the Gene Commercial Group, his old rival. He had tried before but knew his opponent was formidable.

"Gene... is dead."

Lance knew exactly what Walter was thinking. The softly spoken words sent a chill through Walter.

Is he warning me? If I hadn’t agreed just now, would I have been the next Gene?

"Make your preparations. Let me know what manpower you need. You’ll go to Ovando tomorrow."

...

As night fell, Hamlet proved unlike Totnes; it lacked the latter’s underlying vibrancy. No matter how bustling it was during the day, silence reigned after dark.

But that was for ordinary people. Boudica could drink heavily and sleep hugging a barrel, and Reynard could enjoy the comforts of home with his wife and children, but Lance still had to continue refining policies.

Moreover, these policies had to be implemented within the next few days. Otherwise, if the refugees remained cooped up in the camps, it wasn’t just about them growing lazy; the real fear was that they would cause trouble out of hopelessness.

He had no experience in governance, but he knew of one talent unique to transmigrators—"Plagiarism."

He had already formulated some ideas over the past few days on how to settle these people.

He planned to emulate Totnes by establishing more farms in the outskirts, while the central area would undergo urbanization, perhaps even transforming into a city.

He didn’t plan to concentrate everyone in the town, as its current capacity was limited, and doing so wouldn’t maximize the use of space.

The downside, however, was that spreading things out would make management more troublesome. He couldn’t directly oversee everyone and would need to rely on an intermediate layer of management, which effectively meant dispersing his own power.