CHAPTER 152: BARNS COMPANY: A BETTER DEAL

In the sterile quiet of the infirmary, three figures with flowing blue hair lingered beside him, their expressions a mix of contrition and unease. Among them was Wills Lindell, the man Baines had bested to claim his current position. The air was thick with unspoken tension.

"Why are you here?" Baines asked, his voice flat.

Quintelle stepped forward, her tone smooth but calculated. "We came to apologize for our past actions," she said, nudging her brothers subtly.

Diphus scratched the back of his head, his sincerity evident despite his awkward delivery. "I-I’m sorry for shaming you," he mumbled, his eyes darting to the floor.

Wills, however, offered only a curt nod, his pride barely allowing even that small gesture. "Sorry," he muttered, the word clipped, as if forced from him. Maybe the reason he was even nodding was because Baines had entered the grandmaster before he, "I hope we can work together in the future."

Quintelle’s smile was diplomatic, her words carefully chosen. "With all grudges now settled, I hope we can communicate better moving forward. But I know apologies aren’t enough, so I’d like to invite you—"

"No," Baines interrupted, his voice devoid of warmth. He turned away, dismissing them without a second glance.

The room fell into a stunned silence.

The siblings exchanged frowns, their composure fraying. A polite refusal would have sufficed, but Baines’ blunt rejection felt like a slap.

"You’re arrogant," he spat, breaking the quiet.

Baines didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, he climbed out of the infirmary bed. Wills’ eyes narrowed, his hand twitching toward the hilt of his sword. In case anything happened.

However, Baines, standing in his full height, felt a subtle shift in his body, a newfound strength, and a slight increase in height. He crossed the room to a mirror, inspecting his reflection.

His dark hair had grown longer, strands falling into his eyes, which now shimmered with flecks of violet masking the crimson beneath. His once-dull features were sharpening, taking on a more defined, manly look.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment. "Sir, you’re awake," said Mark, bowing as he entered, a stack of files tucked under his arm.

"Mark," Baines said, his voice steady.

It was the first time he’d addressed his subordinate by name, and Mark froze, a flicker of pride crossing his face; it already felt like an achievement. ’Why am I proud?’ He didn’t understand, but he shook it off.

Spotting the Lindell siblings, Mark offered a polite bow. "Ah, the Lindells, greetings." Then turned back to Baines, his tone professional.

"When you were brought in, your privilege of one head-priest healing was used to restore you," Mark explained the reason why he was whole. When he heard the news, he quickly used the sun plaque to request the head priest.

"As per your orders, I’ve allocated your funds to establish a business and purchase a building for the main office." He handed Baines a file. "We used the name you requested, sir. I’ve also hired skilled workers in magic engineering, set up two additional branches in the capital with workers, and deployed guards to the main office. It’s safe to say, everything is ready."

Baines opened the file, his eyes landing on the bold header:

Barns Company.

This was what Baines chose as its name. It wasn’t just a business he set up on a whim or impulse.

It was the cornerstone of his ambition to revive the Baek merchants, a legacy that would not be confined to the Free Principalities but would stretch across continents and the world’s information in the palm of his hands.

The file contained documents detailing the building purchase, business registration, company certificate, tax obligations, rules and regulations they must keep, and various other important documents.

Mark handed over another file. "This is from the Orion Assembly, outlining their progress. They’re eager to meet you. Most executives are already on board with the idea, and they’ve made significant strides in the creation of Project Internet."

The Lindell siblings, still lingering, exchanged glances. They hadn’t been dismissed, and Baines hadn’t asked them to leave, so they stayed, absorbing every word.

The mention of "Project Internet" piqued their curiosity, though a part of them felt they were intruding on something monumental, they still stayed.

"Good," Baines said, flipping through the Orion Assembly’s report. "What about the setup?"

"As per the coordinates provided, the setups have been placed strategically across the empire," Mark replied, handing over the final file.

The Lindell siblings’ eyes widened when they heard ’around the empire’. Just what were they planning?

"This file contains the compilation of detailed information the Orion Assembly has on the current situation across the continent."

Baines scanned the documents, his expression unreadable. After scanning all the documents with Eye, he returned them to Mark. "By the end of this month, Project Internet must be operational."

"Yes, sir," Mark said with a bow, ready to continue when the door opened again. Six Red Sun soldiers entered, their black uniforms adorned with gold embroidery and red capes.

"5th Chair of the 7th Division, Jin, your attention is needed in the 5th Division," the lead soldier announced.

Baines nodded, retrieving a large sack of gold from his belongings and tossing it to Mark. "Expand the branches to ten. Keep the rest."

He donned his Red Sun uniform, the black fabric stark against the gold detailing of his rank, the red cape hanging on his shoulders, and left with the soldiers, leaving Mark stunned and the Lindell siblings bewildered.

...

Quintelle stormed out of the Red Sun’s territory, her mind racing. Her brothers trailed behind, struggling to keep up with her determined pace.

"Where are you going?" Diphus called after her.

Quintelle whirled around, her glare sharp enough to silence them. ’Who did I offend to get siblings like this?’ she muttered under her breath before sighing. "You heard everything in there. Project Internet, spanning the entire empire. We need to find out what it is and how we can profit from it."

Wills bristled. "But he insulted us. Are we just going to let that slide?"

Quintelle pinched the bridge of her nose, exasperated. "Fuck," she cursed in disappointment, making Wills frown all the more. Then softened her tone. "We’ve introduced ourselves. Next time, we’re not strangers. Do you understand now?"

The brothers exchanged a glance and nodded, though Wills’ jaw remained tight.

"The question is, how do we learn more about his plan?" Quintelle mused, her mind already working through possibilities.

"Why not ask the Orion Assembly?" Diphus suggested. "To me, they sounded like an information agency. If we pay them, won’t they tell us?"

Quintelle’s expression softened, a rare smile tugging at her lips. ’Yes. I can’t just have entirely useless siblings after all.’ She nodded approvingly.

"Let’s see if the family knows of any Orion Assembly branches." She and Diphus set off to investigate, while Wills, still simmering, returned to the 7th Division to claim the now-vacant 3rd Chair.

...

Baines was led to the underground cells of the 5th Division, a grim labyrinth where captured criminals were held for interrogation. The air was heavy with the stench of sweat and despair.

Until recently, these criminals never spoke regardless of the method of torture, but still kept them in case any had a change of mind, but now they heard of the torture method that made even the toughest break.

Naturally, they invited its founder in hopes of drawing out questions.

A well-built woman greeted him at the entrance to the cells. "5th Chair, Jin. I am Yale Blure, 1st Chair of the 5th Division," she said, her tone formal but respectful.

After brief introductions, Baines was led past rows of cells, the prisoners’ eyes following him with a mix of defiance and curiosity until they reached the deepest part of the complex, where five members of the Storms lay, their bodies battered, bruises, cuts, even amputations marking their flesh. Yet their eyes burned with unbroken resolve.

"We’ve been struggling to locate the Storms’ supply routes," Yale explained. "We’ve tried interrogating them extensively, but they won’t break."

Baines studied the prisoners, his expression impassive.

’The storms,’ Baines thought. Honestly, Baines had no particular grudge against them as they weren’t on his hit list.

The truth was, he had no particular grudge against some he had recently killed.

He was just working towards his goal, and if the Black sun, or the storms, or the adamant order, or even the organization shuphern belonged to, brought in a better deal than what he would receive if he achieved 5 sun stars—one sun destroyer, four large vessels and a hundred thousand soldiers—he would leave Solaris that day.