Black Sail
Chapter 445: LXXIX. Black Society

Chapter 445: LXXIX. Black Society

By logical reasoning, Aran Country had a Royal Court’s direct supervisory department, making the citizens nominally belong to the state. Hence, officials in Aran were extraordinarily cautious.

Ake, often called a minor Aran official, preferred doing nothing to making a mistake, representing the typical greeting among Aran officials.

What you think of as palace intrigue—oh, the Emperor loves it immensely! Wanting one concubine over another, secretly mixing abortion drugs into the food when a dragon child gets conceived, ensuring general tranquility among the harem.

Real palace intrigue, however, I greatly admire the first person who secretly surveilled, casually wiping out entire families. Time...it was about to speed up: a storm of eavesdropping, multiple spies, scheming, forming cliques, constantly shifting allegiances, manipulating from the shadows. With that said, there’s no escaping the dark patterns.

Therefore, whether it’s the Imperial City’s Royal Court or local provinces, Aran officials wouldn’t entangle themselves unnecessarily, trying to stir up trouble only to get caught by the supervisory department or someone else grabbing their tails—it’s not as simple as serving prison time; at best, it’s a collective punishment system, at worst, a ride to the Northern Realm, reserved noble boxes, and luxurious double-storey suites in the diplomatic guesthouses of the Upper House.

Unlike places in the Beima Duchy where gambling, prostitution, and drugs thrive, and taxes are evaded using secret ports—these things are completely off-limits.

Logically speaking, Aran should be a Heaven on earth, fundamentally saying goodbye to the Triad Gang.

But in reality, it is not so; hidden grey venues in countless cities are still common.

Although these related industries are certainly monopolized by big fishes, these people never show themselves, and they are impossible to trace.

If you want to join the Black Society, you don’t need much support – often, a low-level public servant inside providing information will suffice.

You think you’re clever? What use is that? Out here, even if you’re an official, you need a background, some power. People with shallow roots and pale shoots won’t let you show your worth during times of accomplishment; those opportunities are reserved for the confidants and cliques—bit players are all they need, or otherwise, you recognize the situation and desperately suck up to some faction, or you’re stuck there for life.

The top-tier design stays unblemished; high-ranking officials don’t fret over minor details, but some scholarly small-time bureaucrats aren’t that self-aware—looking down on such a salary, who are they to scorn? They don’t wish to degrade their dignity by groveling either; they’d rather stand and become the sheltering umbrellas themselves.

Take Mika as an example, although once purely a scapegoat, it’s these small-time bureaucrats in Aran that usually end up shouldering the blame, bearing it until they’re unreachable.

In Aran, there’s a policy above and countermeasures below, including black sand dance halls, hair salons, foot washing cities, gambling banks, botanical research centers—Aran makes glad the gambling and drugged dogs.

These minor officials, specially in charge of taking the blame, are called in Aran as "Scapegoats."

Thus, the Black Society’s gains in Aran are indeed substantial, with the biggest backdrop being these "Scapegoats."

Every couple of years, when the Royal Court decides to reorganize, a wave of Scapegoats are shipped off, and once the projects are approved, new Scapegoats come in.

Reality is that magical.

In this high-end restaurant in Duguli, where Liszt and his old friend Isis dined,

the conflict between two groups next door became understandable.

These rough men with dragons and tigers tattooed on their shoulders aren’t local powers.

As is well known, the Black Society thrives on the premium of unique demands—artworks included.

Yet often the Four Heavenly Kings turn out to be five: gambling, drugs, construction, plus art—these are all the domains where this parasitic Black Society operates.

These outsiders from the East Sea mixing into the scene, looking to pay respects at the docks, contributing to the local "companies" responsible for trade, otherwise they can’t hope to continue their operations.

In the restaurant, local thugs were dumbfounded, these people were overtly audacious—shouting abuses, instantly struck speechless.

This is a society ruled by law; the high-end restaurant’s security was notably amateurish. Who would dare to break up the fight? The rest of the patrons had already fled.

Liszt also decided to flee. The East Sea was vast, and not all of it was Liszt’s territory. Black Sail was currently the biggest leader in the East Sea, the speaker, but many others also engaged in various trades. A single power couldn’t entirely swallow the East Sea, needing to give others a share, otherwise, Liszt would be the next Doringger.

But listening to the following conversation, Liszt was about to spit blood.

A local, well-dressed art dealer, sucking on a cigarette, suddenly felt unconfident before this audacious group. For now, he tried reasoning,

"I’m just being upfront, the 30% kickback isn’t for me; I’ve got people above me, in politics."

The suited man leading took another drag, unable to handle the situation. Thinking carefully, it seemed normal that these country folk, uneducated, barbarians entering the city didn’t know the rules. If the deal didn’t go through, there would only be bloodshed.

"What the fuck, I’ve inquired too. The backers of your powers are just trivial officials, think killing people would protect you? Worthless as dogs... Haha, my brother is Liszt, who the fuck are you?"

The leader from the East Sea had a scar-faced.

After Liszt pacified the East Sea, he was a hands-off Boss, letting Fen handle everything—Fen, meticulous in arrangements both big and small.

With Fen’s extensive connections, even in Aran, he had friends who were Magicians.

Studying at the Arcane Academy was like watching a meme video on a website, there were many endings.

Ending One: Publish a paper, gain international recognition, become an authority in academia, join the Tower Alliance, and even become a member of the Upper House, control the winds and cover the sky with one hand.

It was now...the time of ultimate fantasy, complete madness.

Fen’s past deeds were unattainable for ordinary students, as if you had cultivated for forty thousand years and finally joined the ranks of the Immortals, only to become one of the one hundred thousand Heavenly Soldiers hunting down Monkey Brother; Fen clearly belonged to Brother Monkey.

Ending Two: Take a civil service exam, become a minor official, although mediocre, the income is still considerable, and the job is considered decent and relatively easy and happy, but sometimes you feel there is no place to realize your ambitions, a bit regrettable.

It was now...this could also be considered a fantasy ending, as students from various academies swarmed like fish crossing a river, with only a few making it ashore.

Ending Three: Black Mage, you would play the poor soul wandering on the edge of life and death, chased by the Tower Alliance to the ends of the earth, constantly mingling in the Great Wetland, northern part of the Southern Continent, East Sea, Summer Sunset Island, Far East, Narrow Sea and other no-man’s lands.

This is a rather rare ending.

Ending Four: Court Mage, surrounded by wives and concubines, wrapped in wealth, dressed in silk and jade, rising smoothly through the ranks.

Identified as...a daydream.

There are various other endings, including joining the Church, which is also considered a high achievement.

The most standard ending was to work as a technical consultant in some private companies, construction engineers, or deal with economics and finance.

Many of Fen’s less successful schoolmates were involved in these, and there were quite a few in Aran as well.

The saying goes, "Poor in a bustling market with no neighbors, rich in deep mountains with distant relatives."

With the current state of Black Sail, it could certainly be considered a small country, and Fen...was equivalent to the national master, a very terrifying concept.

Formerly treated as a political criminal and chased, you ignored me, but now I’m out of your league.

Schoolmates who once rejected my entry, now, after becoming a member of the Magic Energy Industrial Commissioner and the Upper House, have started their bootlicking mode again.

Fen found a magician friend in Duguli as a connection and also sent a bunch of people over to dump goods, creating conflicting interests with the local Black Society of Duguli.

So that was how today’s matter came about.

Coincidentally, Liszt happened to be involved too.

At Heaven Port, Liszt being Boss didn’t feel much, as the core members knew Liszt was just a person, not particularly revered, the subordinates were too restrained, it didn’t work well.

But now, Liszt was starting to feel a bit more like it.

With the scar-faced leader of the Black Sail forces invoking the name of Liszt, the man in the suit opposite him hesitated a moment, seemingly a bit subdued.

Liszt realized how terrifying the force of Black Sail had become, with influence extending even to the inland.

However, what the scar-faced man did next completely dumbfounded Liszt.

"Edge Kid, aren’t you supposed to go back to Beima, your hometown? Since you’re going back anyway, cut off that guy in the suit’s head first, then leave."

Scar-face called out a subordinate’s nickname, deciding to skin a few people today, otherwise, if the business had not been done well recently, he couldn’t explain it to Fen.

This was a mission personally assigned to him by Fen, also his chance to leap through the Dragon’s Gate.

"F*ck..."

Liszt was speechless, damn it, a lackey’s lackey in Aran jumped higher than himself.

Since he was here anyway, and waiting for a reply from Sharon took time.

He decided to intervene in the matter here.

What the hell Fen was thinking with his dog’s head, I don’t know whether it’s because of multiple intermediaries but he sent such a pig-headed person to Duguli.

In fact...

Fen had other ideas, he wanted to use his own connections to handle various affairs of Black Sail, thereby establishing his foundation.