"Malin, you didn’t come last night, and the card game lost a lot of its buzz without you. However, you missed my sweeping victory; I beat those three lads all by myself," Logan said, cutting into his steak and noticing the lipstick mark on his old friend’s face, "Looks like you had some secret stories last night, Malin, on your left cheek."
"Ah, it’s nothing." Malin wiped off the lipstick with some embarrassment, took out his handkerchief to dab at his face, and sat down across from Logan. He took the menu from the waiter, "Give me a breakfast set, but replace the pumpkin soup with meat soup, and make it a large."
"Good appetite, truly a giant." Logan chuckled, glancing at his wife, "See, our Mr. Malin doesn’t seem to mind the red marks on his face at all."
"That’s because he’s been roughed up more than you, my dear Mr. Logan," Miriam replied with a smile.
Logan rolled his eyes and, noticing his old friend yawn, with his puffy eyes betraying a night of staying up, took a sip of tea and then began, "By the way, I’ve got a big business deal here. Are you interested in joining?"
"I should be the one saying that to you. Tell me, what kind of big deal is it that you can’t swallow by yourself?" Logan’s interest piqued. He took out a cigarette case, lit one for himself, then flicked one over to Malin.
It was always him who recommended big deals to Malin. This was the first time his old friend was returning the favor.
But Malin waved his hand, flicking the cigarette back to Logan, "No smoking anymore, I quit."
"You quit smoking? Hard to imagine. But I’m curious about the business," Logan placed the cigarette back into its case, staring at his friend. He imagined it might be starting a workshop, making some strange yet useful things, like the double-barreled shotguns that had gone viral among Carterburg’s wealthy and nobles. Four barrels, one for shotgun shells, one for arrow shells, one for single steel bullets, and another for silver-soaked single lead bullets.
Countless nobles and wealthy folk, previously gentle as chickens, took to the woods with it to hunt bears that were once the prey of hunters.
The roles of hunter and hunted had reversed. Fate really is cruel, isn’t it?
Malin fell silent for a moment, then continued, "I’m planning to expand production. I need a lot of money."
"Expand production, you need a lot of money?" Logan frowned, "You mean, you want me to put up the money?"
"I’ll give you dry shares. Are you interested?" Malin raised his eyebrows.
Of course I am, I’d be a dog if I wasn’t. The whole world knows there’s good eating in doing business with Malin. Everyone is scrambling to get on his corporate chariot.
Logan immediately perked up, "Interested! How much?"
"Two million Mowish," Malin threw out an astronomical figure—a drop in the bucket for Logan’s family but for Logan to come up with that amount by himself, even if he sold himself, his Miriam, their unborn child, their house, and their lands, it would still not add up to two hundred thousand.
"What do you need two million for?"
"I plan to build a city on the shallows west of Carterburg. The two million is just the initial investment. My idea is to establish a whole new city, which would merge with Carterburg. I can get the mayor to manage the city on our behalf, sort of as a gesture to our sovereign, but this city will be filled with my company’s staff and factories, and it will have a port too." Malin explained all in one breath and looked at Logan, "I know you don’t have that kind of money, but you could ask your family. I would like to tie our two families together in the same chariot, but if your family is not interested, it doesn’t matter. I can find Faye or Nova for the two million."
Old friend Malin paused, then looked at Logan, "What’s your answer?"
"Answer? Hold on, my old friend, you should have money, and whether it’s Faye or Nova, your wives, you should let them be a part of your business." Logan sensed there was something amiss—not with the business itself, but he wondered why Malin was saving such a golden opportunity for his friends.
Could it be that he didn’t trust Faye and Nova?
Why? Logan asked himself. Compared to those two princesses, he had no grounds for comparison whatsoever.
Faced with his old friend’s question, Malin smiled— he knew Logan may seem a bit slow, but his political acumen was very sharp, and it was impossible for him not to have thought of this: "The enterprise is not for Faye and Nova’s children; they have their own paths to follow, so I don’t want to involve them too much in it."
"I see," Logan nodded— sure enough, once the conversation steered away from politics, this fellow’s intelligence seemed to plummet: "Since that’s the case, let me ask my family and hold on to this opportunity for now."
Malin smiled and turned to the lady by his side, "What about you, Mrs. Miriam?"
"I always knew Mr. Malin was my husband Logan’s best friend. Mr. Malin, you just said that this enterprise is left for your child, but it is not for Faye nor Nova’s children, so whose lady might this child be?"
Look, Logan, my old friend, if not for Miriam, I fear you would have been sold by someone long ago.
Malin stepped aside to let the waiter serve the food, and after he left, Malin looked towards Miriam: "Lillim’s child will inherit the enterprise, and my alchemy workshop will be left to Clovis and her child. As for the armory, Matilda will train her child to become an excellent manager, just as my potion workshop will be handed over to Rewo to manage."
"My old friend, is there some issue with you? This sounds almost like you’re settling your final affairs." Logan, as if waking from a dream, commented, and was then on the receiving end of an attack from Miriam’s handbag.
Using her handbag to silence her husband, the lady looked at Malin with surprise, "Does this mean that you have decided to establish a family."
"Yes, since my promotion is now inevitable, rather than waiting for futile attempts to catch up to me by them, I decided to try my luck. At least Maya is no longer a problem now, is she?" Malin remarked with a smile, and with a flick of his finger, he used Spiritual Energy to pull Logan’s cigarette case away to a distance: "Take my advice, Miriam; it’s best not to smell the smoke, not good for her and the child in her womb."
Logan was silent for a moment, "You should have said that earlier."
Thus, Miriam’s second handbag attack duly arrived.
Then, the lady turned towards Malin, offering congratulations with a tone full of respect.
Malin raised his glass in salute, taking a sip of the juice and liquor mix - Farole’s mixed beverages were indeed potent.
Indeed, speaking with smart people is a truly pleasing experience.
"Your wives?" Miriam eventually asked another question.
"I went to bed late last night," Malin answered with a smile, choosing his words with deliberate modesty.
Miriam revealed an understanding smile, as the lady whose emotional intelligence far surpassed her husband also raised her glass, "To the new family."
"Thank you," Malin lifted his eyebrows, raising his glass as well.
Logan, confused, but driven by his survival instinct, also raised his glass.
"Can we conclude this charade now?" he asked.