Blackstone Code
Chapter 313:

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"This year's freshly harvested spice—passionfruit seeds..." A local spice merchant was presenting his prized product to Lynch.

He lifted a small bag about the size of an adult's fist and poured out some hexagonal, greenish-yellow seeds. As the seeds spread across his palm, a peculiar fragrance wafted into the air. It was familiar to Lynch, though not from here—he had encountered it before in the Federation.

Passionfruit seeds weren't particularly rare, but they weren't common either. They required very specific growing conditions, and only a handful of countries worldwide could produce them. These seeds were primarily used in preparing meat dishes like grilled or roasted meats. Lynch recognized the scent because he'd tasted it in grilled fish fillets; chefs often used it to enhance the flavor of fish.

Lynch fiddled with the seeds for a moment, but the aroma soon became overpowering due to its intensity. He leaned back slightly, feeling a tickle in his nose. "Do you have a price list?" he asked.

The question clearly struck a nerve. The merchant's eyes flickered with confusion, followed by suspicion and uncertainty. "What is that?" he asked hesitantly.

It wasn't hard to see why these indigenous merchants had been so easily exploited by foreign traders. Their lack of exposure to competitive markets left them unprepared when outsiders arrived. Many basic concepts that other merchants took for granted were entirely foreign to them.

Lynch rephrased his question. "A price list—a piece of paper listing the prices of each item. Do you understand?" He glanced at Arthur, who translated into the local language. Watching the merchant's face light up with comprehension, Lynch felt a slight relief.

The merchant quickly scribbled down a rough price list. After examining it briefly without comment, Lynch tucked it away. "I haven't dealt in spices before, but I'm open to trying."

"I'm not sure if these prices are reasonable. I'll be returning to the Baylor Federation next week. Once I verify the market rates, we can discuss purchasing terms."

"But before that…" Lynch pinched a small amount of passionfruit seeds between his fingers and crushed them firmly. "They're too damp. If you want to do business with me, make sure they're thoroughly dried."

When he released the crushed seeds, their outer shells crumbled, but the centers remained moist. Don't underestimate this subtle dampness—it might go unnoticed, but the moisture could account for over half, even sixty to seventy percent, of the seed's weight.

These spice merchants may not excel at honest trade, but they certainly didn't need lessons in cutting corners. This confirmed what Lynch already suspected: most merchants were alike—they would stop at nothing to maximize profits.

Far from being embarrassed by the revelation of his damp goods, the spice merchant grinned broadly. "Of course, Mr. Lynch! I'll immediately instruct those lazy peasants to dry them properly!"

"You'd better," Lynch nodded. "Label these spices and set them aside. I'll take them as samples when I leave."

After leaving his contact information and ensuring the spices were labeled, the merchant finally took his leave. Almost immediately, another trader entered, carrying his wares.

This time, it was an ivory merchant.

In this world, elephants and their tusks weren't considered rare or luxurious commodities, especially in places like Nagalier and regions closer to the equator, where elephant herds thrived. These elephants were larger, with longer tusks, and posed significant threats in grasslands and jungles, where they had few natural predators. Their populations grew unchecked, sometimes encroaching on human settlements.

Nagalier's grasslands and jungles teemed with elephant herds. The ivory merchants primarily dealt in tusks from savanna elephants—longer, thicker, sturdier, and slightly yellowed, though not noticeably so.

The ivory merchant presented a pair of tusks nearly two meters eighty centimeters long, with a base diameter approaching forty-eight centimeters! If sold in the Federation, such tusks would fetch anywhere from one hundred thousand to two hundred thousand federation thors—equivalent to tens of millions of galiars. But here, they served merely as an extravagant and earnest gesture of goodwill.

"This is my gift to you, Mr. Lynch!" The man was in his thirties, sporting a thin mustache. His expression hinted at cunning and ruthlessness, with a glint of ferocity lurking in his eyes.

Most hunters weren't gentle souls. From the moment they took their first animal life, many developed a detached attitude toward mortality, losing reverence for life altogether. Over time, this indifference extended to human lives as well. Hunters often viewed humans with the same callousness they reserved for animals.

As Lynch watched the tusks being unloaded from a battered truck, he thanked the merchant. The two then retreated indoors to continue discussing business.

This merchant not only had vast quantities of ivory but also rarer items like rhinoceros horns and bones, sourced from deeper within the savanna where conditions were harsher and more perilous. Even Hassanah's fur traders avoided venturing there.

Lynch requested a price list for these items. Determining their value and negotiating purchase prices would require a trip back to the Federation.

One after another, local merchants came to visit Lynch, all indigenous traders deeply exploited by major trading houses. Many believed Lynch would offer higher prices for their goods.

But this was a misconception. Even if Lynch were inclined to do so, he wouldn't dare disrupt the delicate balance of interests among Nagalier's foreign merchants. Doing so would turn him into everyone's enemy, and no amount of intervention from Nagalier's ineffectual central government could shield him from retaliation—or worse.

Still, he could engage with these merchants without harming others' interests or offering unrealistic quotes based on fantasy. Some even approached him with proposals to help girls obtain genetic material from Lynch to improve their lineage, pitching deals worth hundreds of millions.

Yet, the one group Lynch hoped to meet remained absent: human traffickers.

This absence wasn't surprising. Nagalier's resistance to external influences fostered the belief that life abroad was harsher than their own. Sometimes, people were simply naïve—and foolish.

Few desired to work overseas, especially under religious indoctrination that painted foreign lands as hellish abysses. They awaited the great collapse, believing themselves destined to rise above humanity. Why abandon such aspirations to suffer abroad?

For several days, Lynch navigated this atmosphere. The Provincial Governor's sons remained divided, granting Lynch a temporary reprieve. Seizing the opportunity, he explored the city, gaining deeper insights into Magura Province and Nagalier as a whole.

On Tuesday of the second week, an apostle of the High Priest arrived to escort Lynch to a religious festival.

The third Tuesday of April marked a sacred day in the native religion. According to legend, on this day, a drop of divine blood—golden and flowing like liquid sunlight—fell upon the barren earth, causing a hundred flowers to bloom and life to flourish. This day was known as the "Festival of a Hundred Flowers" or the "Day of Renewal."

The festive spirit had been building for days, intensifying yesterday and reaching its peak today.

It was astonishing how the streets transformed. During his wanderings, Lynch noticed that both men and women relieved themselves openly—an odd yet undeniable reality. Particularly among middle-aged women from lower social strata, modesty held little sway. Finding a secluded alleyway sufficed for personal needs, offering quite the spectacle.

Despite the usual chaos and filth, today everything sparkled with cleanliness. Every household adorned their doorways with garlands of flowers, scattering petals across their thresholds. Both men and women sported red dots on their foreheads, surrounded by white petals symbolizing renewal.

Flowers decorated ears, collars, chests, and wrists. The persistent stench that lingered in the city seemed to dissipate, vanishing entirely in central areas.

Lynch was honored to participate in the festivities—a prestigious invitation indeed. He was seated on the second float behind the High Priest's carriage. Though called a "float," it was essentially a refurbished, dilapidated bus adorned with makeshift decorations. Seven or eight people occupied the vehicle, half of whom Lynch recognized as fellow merchants he'd met previously.

The others, introduced through acquaintances, represented prominent local families.

Perhaps sensing Lynch's youth and inexperience with the festival, a familiar merchant quietly explained the proceedings. The event aimed to express gratitude to the deity whose blood nourished creation. In return, the deity's representatives bestowed blessings upon the people.

Such reciprocal rituals were common in most religions. Lynch understood the gist and prepared himself accordingly.

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