When Anbaixiu handed over that artifact gold coin with excruciating heartache, even Gustavo Fring felt a daze come over him.
Could the lich really not be acting? The tremor in his voice sounded far too genuine.
Anbaixiu was indeed not acting. He could easily have raked in a two-hundred-percent margin, yet for the development of alchemy, he had endured agonizing grief and persuaded the God of Alchemy to raise the price by only a single fold.
How much money was that?!
To make less than he could have—how was that any different from losing money?
Consequently, no matter how well Gustavo Fring knew Anbaixiu, or how deeply he could see into the human heart, Anbaixiu's demeanor was utterly sincere. Even if a deity descended in person to administer a lie-detection test, they would find not a single flaw.
"This gold coin is yours now. Its function is to imbue any matter with the corpse attribute, though each transmutation requires a substantial amount of gold. As for exactly how much, test it yourself—that is a price set by the God of Alchemy."
Anbaixiu looked as though grief had sapped all will to speak, which softened Gustavo Fring's heart just a fraction. It seemed he really had fleeced the lich for once. But why had this lich been so easy to negotiate with?
Given his character, he would never agree to a losing deal even on pain of death; you could string him up to roast in the Holy Light and he still wouldn't budge.
"Tell me the truth. Why would you give me this gold coin? Don't you dare say it's out of generosity, and don't claim it's for the sake of friendship."
Gustavo Fring was already traumatized by Anbaixiu; he was genuinely terrified of getting swindled by this lich again.
Without a plausible explanation, he would rather throw the coin away than agree to Anbaixiu's terms.
Anbaixiu let out a sigh. "You know me well, Fring, so I won't bother making up excuses. The sole reason I'm willing to surrender this core is because of the God of Alchemy. You guessed most of it earlier: this boon was granted to me by the God of Alchemy, and He can reclaim it at any time.
"When you approached me about cooperating, the God of Alchemy sensed it as well. This is a prime opportunity to expand alchemy's influence, and He has no intention of letting it slip by. You should know all too well that when your council courted death back in the City of Alchemy, the God of Alchemy's divine power suffered a massive setback. Now that an opportunity has arrived to restore His strength, how could He possibly pass it up? Fring, you are the new President of the Alchemists' Council. Your influence over alchemy is paramount. Do you understand now?"
That explanation seemed very reasonable, yet Gustavo Fring still couldn't resist asking, "Even if that's true, knowing your habits, shouldn't you have concealed this intelligence, named an exorbitant price, and fleeced me once again?"
Anbaixiu countered with a question of his own. "Do you have any money left for me to fleece?"
Gustavo Fring froze. Did this lich know everything?
Anbaixiu did indeed know everything. Even though he had not been anywhere near the dwarves lately, he was hardly lacking intelligence from that corner of the world.
After all, Isabel was still active within the Dwarf Kingdom. Moreover, Isabel had grown into a pivotal figure of considerable standing—Gustavo Fring had even contemplated taking her as his student, only to find the lich had claimed that title first.
With Isabel's elevated status and her position as a high-ranking member of the Alchemists' Council, she possessed an intimate understanding of the council's internal affairs. Through her, Anbaixiu had learned all about Gustavo Fring's financial difficulties.
It wasn't that Fring had zero wealth—a legendary alchemist hardly had to worry about basic sustenance—but negotiating big business with Anbaixiu was entirely out of the question. Even the council's operational funds were stretched paper-thin, trapped in a cycle of constantly generating revenue only to funnel every coin into servicing debts.
Under such circumstances, it was pointless for Anbaixiu to demand an exorbitant ransom; Gustavo Fring was never going to sell himself into servitude just to raise capital. Anbaixiu knew the old fellow far too well.
Anbaixiu continued his explanation: "Fring, we understand each other well. I truly loathe handing it over for nothing, but as a mere mortal, I cannot defy the God of Alchemy's decree.
"Since you have no real wealth to offer anyway, I'd rather have you owe me a favor. A favor from a legendary alchemist is worth far more than the meager coins left in your pockets. Even though I still feel like I'm taking a massive loss, I can only minimize the damage. Wouldn't you agree?"
With Anbaixiu laying it out so frankly, Gustavo Fring harbored no further doubts.
Everything lined up logically, unless the God of Alchemy had conspired with the lich to deceive him—which was impossible. As Anbaixiu had pointed out, Fring, as president, represented alchemy in the mortal realm; naturally, the God of Alchemy would stand on his side.
Thus, Gustavo Fring said to Anbaixiu, "Very well. I will remember this favor. As we agreed, I'll cover the shipping costs this time. As for subsequent sales, we will draw up a detailed revenue-sharing contract later. First, I need to test this gold coin's transmutation efficiency."
Anbaixiu nodded impassively, then said, "You'd better secure orders as quickly as possible. If I don't earn this money back from someone else soon, my soul won't know a moment's peace—I could go mad at any second."
Seeing Anbaixiu looking so miserable, Gustavo Fring couldn't help but chuckle. The lich had finally met his match!
Praise be to the God of Alchemy—this was truly the most righteous thing a deity had ever done!
"Rest easy. I'm strapped for cash too. Besides, the dwarf king has already inquired with me. The Dwarf Kingdom lacks everything except gold—they have plenty of that."
Gustavo Fring was not merely making empty promises. Driven from their ancestral homeland by the Ryanites, the entire Dwarf Kingdom harbored a burning grudge. Now that Ryan was teetering on the verge of chaos, the dwarf king was eager to fan the flames and seize the opportunity to reclaim their lost territory. Yet the Dwarf Kingdom's army was sorely lacking, utterly outmatched against the paladin legions of Ryan.
The power Anbaixiu had previously displayed had already shocked the entire world, making this new breed of skeleton he introduced the hottest commodity on the market.
The dwarf king had discreetly sent envoys to Gustavo Fring more than once to inquire about Anbaixiu. Gustavo Fring knew just how lucrative the arms business could be, but at the time he was merely a downstream contract manufacturer without access to any core technology, so naturally he had been unwilling to let Anbaixiu pocket the lion's share of the profits.
It was only because the dwarf king did not yet know Isabel's master was Anbaixiu that Gustavo Fring had managed to keep the news under wraps for now. But it likely wouldn't stay hidden for long; obsessed with waging another war against Ryan, the dwarf king was bound to uncover the connection through Isabel sooner or later.
Now things were different. Anbaixiu possessed the vital core of Simulated Souls, while Gustavo Fring held the gold coin that could transmute corpse remains. With a foundation for partnership established, they could make a fortune together, and Gustavo Fring was ready to push the venture forward immediately.
The Dwarf Kingdom had inherited most of the alchemical production lines left behind by the City of Alchemy. Although these were not on par with the cutting-edge facilities originally housed inside the capital, those machines within the capital had been predominantly for research and development; the surrounding cities outside the capital, on the other hand, held the production lines best suited for mass manufacturing.
Now that Anbaixiu needed vast quantities of undead shells, it played right into Gustavo Fring's greatest strengths. A deal could practically be struck with the dwarf king today, and delivery of the first batch of specialized skeletons could be completed within ten days.
"How much longer do you plan to stay at sea? Why don't you come back and join the council? I'll save the position of Vice President for you," Gustavo Fring said. "You're Isabel's master—no one would dare object to you serving as Vice President."
Anbaixiu chuckled. "Going back to work with you is for business, and staying out here is also for business—only the business here is far bigger, with returns in the hundreds or thousands of times. Which do you think I'd choose? Don't worry, I won't neglect the business on your end either. Place your orders whenever you like; I have all the time in the world."
The flow of time within his personal demiplane could be adjusted at will; a single day spent inside allowed Anbaixiu to manufacture a massive quantity of low-tier Simulated Souls, more than enough to meet the Dwarf Kingdom's demands.
Hearing Anbaixiu's words, Gustavo Fring furrowed his brow and asked, "Are you truly attempting to create a god? You should know full well how the City of Alchemy ended up. Is something like that really worth the risk?"
Now that their partnership was established, Gustavo Fring began to worry about Anbaixiu's safety. If the lich perished, the artifact gold coin in his hands would become useless scrap; without matching Simulated Souls, the aberrant skeletons wouldn't even be able to move.
Creating a god—what an exhilarating experiment it was, yet the catastrophic failure of the City of Alchemy was a stark and fresh precedent. Gustavo Fring genuinely did not want anything to happen to Anbaixiu.
When you proved useful to others, everyone wished for you to live forever—never mind how comfortably you lived.
Anbaixiu dismissed the concern nonchalantly. "What are you thinking? You lot were reckless fools trying to circumvent the divine rules through a back door. What I'm doing is the most traditional method of godhood through faith, fully adhering to the rules established by Ao. Even if deities want to intervene, they can only do so underhandedly; none would dare act in person as they did last time.
"As for mortal forces... Fring, do you think there's anyone left who can stop me?"
Gustavo Fring fell silent. Times had changed; this lich truly had risen to staggering heights.
In the battle upon the high seas, the Githyanki and an Astral red dragon had served as stepping stones beneath his feet. Seven legends of Ryan had been effortlessly routed by paladins he summoned, and even after crying out that the Lord of the Dawn was on his side, he hadn't been incinerated by the Holy Light. Formidable personal power coupled with tremendous backing, not to mention his intricate ties among various kingdoms... Anbaixiu's claim was no exaggeration: in this mortal world, there truly was no one who could stop him.
On the contrary, hearing his name was enough to make anyone shudder in terror, dreading that Master Ultraman might set his sights on their family vaults.
"In any case, be careful with everything, old friend. I'll be waiting for the day we divide our spoils."
Offering his most heartfelt well-wishes, Gustavo Fring disconnected the magic mirror's communication and set about studying the artifact gold coin.
Though he was no necromancer himself, finding one was child's play. Today, he was determined to calculate every last coin needed to transmute corpse remains.
Anbaixiu was well pleased as well. He had finally managed to pull the wool over the old fellow's eyes.
Hopefully, Fring wouldn't use it too aggressively—or at least not bankrupt himself before turning a profit.
Reopening the battlefield transmission on his magic mirror, Anbaixiu discovered that the fighting had already drawn to a close.
Deployed to the battlefield for the first time, the undead naval forces had exhibited combat strength far beyond expectations. After attempting two counteroffensives, the sahuagin had simply retreated.
Apparently terrified by the lethal poison suffusing the seawater, they had been unwilling to suffer pointless casualties before figuring out what they were up against, pulling back swiftly and leaving behind just under ten thousand corpses.
Anbaixiu's losses were comparable: roughly thirty thousand of the Small Fry army had been destroyed, five octopus-form Guardians lost, and two submersible monitors damaged and in need of repairs.
And because Gustavo Fring had absorbed the lion's share of this battle's expenses, Anbaixiu tallied the figures—deducting his own labor costs, the entire bill amounted to a mere three thousand gold coins.
Three thousand gold coins in exchange for ten thousand sahuagin—what an exorbitant return!
Ange Watson reported back to Anbaixiu: "Master Ultraman, mission accomplished. We have secured a smooth victory in this battle. Should we begin clearing the battlefield now?"
Anbaixiu thought for a moment, then replied, "Not yet. We still have quite a few left in the Small Fry army, don't we? While our neighbors have yet to discern the undead army's weaknesses, let us keep pressing forward. For our next target, we sweep the adjacent ixitxachitl territory. It is high time our merfolk allies saw our sincerity—otherwise, they will never hand their exiled criminals over to me."
Chapter 437