Hearing Greed, Daniel gave a knowing smile. "I know, this is one of the scenarios I anticipated." He said, sitting down on the sofa with a sigh.
*Sigh* "It doesn't matter. If they want to play games, let them. I won't join them. It's not like being formally recognized as a country is vital to us. We can produce everything we need, whether it's agricultural products, food, or electronics. All we need are samples of the products we require, and those trillions of metal scarabs can easily replicate them, with even better quality," Daniel said.
"Agriculture?" Greed repeated, looking at Daniel with confusion. "Danny, as far as I know, we don't have that much land on the island. Where will you get that much agricultural produce?" She still didn't understand the source of Daniel's confidence.
Daniel didn't answer, only smiled and replied, "That's a secret. You'll know when the time comes."
Seeing this, Greed felt annoyed by Daniel's pretentiousness, but in the end, she let out a resigned sigh. *Sigh* "Fine, whatever you're going to do, I'll support you."
— Meanwhile —
After Anna Johanson, the UN Liaison Officer returns from her duty at the hotel. She came back to her office to report.
"Your Majesty, Mr. Emberweave had arrived, and now he resides in the hotel we had prepared for him." Anna reports as she kneels down in subservience toward the man who sat in the throne-like chair behind the large mahogany desk.
He is Oscar Magnus, or Magnus VI, the current king of Sweden.
"Good job. You can continue with your work." Said the man on the throne-like chair.
After Anna left the room, two figures materialized in the corner: a suave gentleman in his early forties, carrying a cane, and a man with a bandaged face, clad in a large trench coat, his eyes ablaze with resentment.
The two were none other than Albert and Jack the Ripper.
The man on the throne turned to face the newcomers.
"This isn't like you, Mr. Worseley, to ask us to take care of someone who isn't you. You're aware of the significance of the suite room in the Stora Kronan hotel, aren't you? After all, you're the one who established its meaning," the man on the throne remarked.
"I am aware, Your Majesty, and that's precisely what I want," Albert replied with a calculated smile.
The King observed Albert silently before sighing.
"I don't know what you're planning, Mr. Worseley, but fine," the King conceded, opening a drawer and retrieving a small wooden box.
"Should I send this to Mr. Emberweave immediately?" the King asked, presenting the wooden box to Albert.
"Of course. The sooner, the better," Albert replied, his calculated smile unwavering.
"Okay, I'll help you with this," the King nodded and cast a sealing spell on the box, a spell typically used to secure secret packages that would only open in the hands of the designated recipient.
"That's great. Don't forget to send this to his lordship as well," Albert said, placing an envelope on the table.
Satisfied, Albert touched Jack the Ripper's shoulder and was about to step into the shadow in the corner of the room.
"By the way," the King interjected, "how do you plan to deal with the dissenters? There will be many." The King's gaze sharpened, as if trying to discern something.
"It's fine... that's why Jack is here," Albert said with a smile, a glint of cold, murderous intent flashing in his eyes. "After such a long time, those with pent-up ambition will reveal themselves. Let them... after all, their assets will be useful to both me and my lord."
"Just don't tell them I've been resurrected and spoil my fun," Albert instructed before nodding to Jack. Jack then began to sink into the shadows, followed by Albert.
"Ah... can't wait for those fools to rear their heads," Albert muttered as he and Jack vanished into the darkness.
Magnus glanced at the small wooden box one last time before pressing the service bell on his desk.
Seconds later, an elegant, white-bearded older man entered the room, accompanied by a young man with slick hair and glasses, who exuded a scholarly air.
The older man, with his well-groomed beard and distinguished mustache, resembled a nobleman more than a butler. The young man stood respectfully behind him, maintaining a noble demeanor.
"How may I serve you, Your Majesty?" the butler inquired, while the young man observed the scene attentively.
"Please deliver these to Mr. Emberweave's room. Ensure he receives them personally," the king instructed.
The butler examined the package on the table, consisting of a small wooden box and an envelope, before accepting it.
"Certainly, Your Majesty. Consider it done," the butler replied with a bow, then exited the room with the young man, ready to carry out their task.
— London —
Inside a luxurious London mansion, a man with a solemn expression addressed his subordinate, who had just delivered a report.
"Are you certain you received that signature from that thing in Stockholm?" the man inquired.
"Yes, sir. Please examine this map," the subordinate replied, placing a map on the table. It showed a moving point marked with a jewel icon.
The man stared at the map in disbelief, then looked at his subordinate. "It has actually appeared! Instruct all our men in Stockholm to mobilize! Retrieve it, no matter the cost!" he commanded, eyes gleaming with greed.
"Yes, sir!" the subordinate affirmed before departing to execute his master's orders.
"Over a century... it has finally reappeared! The Guild's legacy!" the man exclaimed, his eyes filled with ambition and avarice.
This scene played out in numerous locations across Europe, from France and Germany to Switzerland and Austria. Even in Sweden, individuals received the signal and began converging, vying for the right to claim the legacy.
— Sweden - Stockholm —
Atop the Nobel Prize Museum, Albert stood observing various forces moving towards the package. Jack the Ripper remained by his side, his eyes still burning with resentment.
"Those greedy ants have started to gather," Albert remarked, scanning the distance. Several small magic circles appeared before his eyes as he used his magic to enhance his vision and assess the situation.
"It seems there are more ants than I expected. Hmm... perhaps waiting for over a century tends to have that effect on greedy bastards," Albert mused, a delighted smile spreading across his face as he anticipated the impending chaos.
"Hmm... Magnus only sent two escorts. Well, it can't be helped. Magnus doesn't have many people he trusts," Albert commented, then turned to Jack.
"Jack, please thin out their numbers a bit. I want their numbers to be just enough for the two escorts to handle," Albert instructed.
Jack the Ripper transformed into a black mist and dispersed.
"This is quite interesting. I never thought there would be so many ambitious fools. Let me enjoy this for a bit," Albert uttered, enhancing his vision once more and retrieving a can of cold beer from his spatial storage pocket within his suit.
He opened it and took a sip, relishing the anticipation of the chaos unfolding before him, as if watching a thrilling sporting event.
— Centralbron Highway —
A sleek black limousine sped down the Central Bron Highway, headed for the Stora Kronan Hotel. Inside, an elderly butler sat in the front passenger seat, while a younger butler was at the wheel.
The highway was mostly deserted, but two armored vehicles blocked their path, spike strips scattered on the road in front of them. In seconds, several more cars appeared from behind, cutting off their retreat.
The elder butler remained calm, observing the situation before speaking.
"Mr. Veneziale, please handle our uninvited guests. Consider this a test," he instructed.
"Yes, Master," Veneziale replied, stepping out of the car with an air of noble politeness. He carefully adjusted the white butler gloves on his hands.
Approaching one of the men leading the blockade, Veneziale spoke in a courteous tone, "Please excuse us, gentlemen, but could you kindly clear the way? We're in a bit of a hurry."
Hearing this, the man leading the blockade laughed out loud, and within a minute, the laughter spread as the people with him joined in.
"Ahhhh hahaha haha! Ah... you are quite hilarious, four eyes," the leader mocked Veneziale.
Veneziale didn't get angry. Instead, he displayed a courteous smile and said, "You're welcome, gentlemen. Now, if you're in a good mood, could you please clear the way? We really need it."
Hearing this, the leader stepped closer and slapped the glasses off Veneziale's face.
"That's very funny, you damn four eyes! Give us the thing, or you and that old man will die here and now!" the leader threatened.
Veneziale didn't show any anger; in contrast, his smile widened slightly. He took another of his spare glasses from his suit and wore them as if nothing had happened.
"Long ago, someone told me, 'When the bully becomes powerless, they are usually more fragile than their victim,'" Veneziale said. "I really want to know, when you are powerless, will you be so fragile?"
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