I will be crowned king

Docklands, Wetzler House.

Anson strolled past the corner of the street and observed with the naked eye the three-story building surrounded by a courtyard across the street. The bright silver Inquisitor pocket watch in his right hand made a "click-click" sound, and the fast-moving second hand pulled its "brother." "They keep getting closer to eight o'clock.

Wearing a black half-top hat and a double-breasted long-sleeved black windbreaker to cover up his military uniform, Anson deliberately dressed himself up like a member of the White Whale Harbor Council. For this purpose, he even changed into a pair of boots and found a sturdy and beautiful one. walking stick.

He walked around several times, as if he were taking an aimless walk. He just deliberately avoided crowded areas and chose narrow and winding roads, so that his clothes were stained everywhere, including his top hat and The collar was not spared.

Time passed minute by minute, and when it was five minutes to eight o'clock, Anson closed the watch cover with a "pop!", pressed down his top hat, picked up his pocket watch, and strode towards the three-story building with his cane in hand. Go to the building.

He knocked lightly on the door, and not long after, a well-dressed middle-aged man dressed like a butler appeared behind the door. He hurriedly walked forward and said with some caution: "I'm sorry, Mr. Mason has invited someone tonight." Distinguished guests together..."

Anson raised his head, smiled and touched the brim of his hat with his cane:

"I am 'that' guest."

The butler whose expression changed suddenly was startled for a moment, then bowed and saluted: "I'm sorry!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he immediately turned around and left in a hurry.

Ten minutes later, Mason Wetzler walked out of the house in a panic, followed hurriedly by the butler, still holding his cane and hat in his hands.

"Lord Commander of the Garrison, why are you... dressed like this?!" Mason looked at Anson out of breath, and took the hat from the middle-aged man in shock:

"And it's just you...alone?!"

Anson smiled easily and looked at him meaningfully:

"Is not it good?"

"Uh...Okay! Great!" Mason responded with a quick laugh and a flattering tone. He quickly opened the door and led Anson through the courtyard and into the house.

Walking into the living room, a warm and dry heat wave hit their faces immediately; the butler took away their coats, hats and canes, turned around and disappeared from the entrance without a trace.

Mason, who kept a slight smile on his face, still walked in front and led Anson to the restaurant.

The dining room of the Wetzler Mansion is not large and does not have too many decorations, but it looks very warm. The soft carpets, exquisite fireplaces and heavy curtains all reveal the style of the northern ice and snow, as if even the air is... Become warm.

There are also several "simple" oil paintings hanging on the fireplace, which vaguely look like landscape paintings of Beluga Harbor.

"That's my son's work." A doting smile appeared on Mason's face:

"He was born in Beluga Harbor. He has been obsessed with oil painting since he was a child and has never been interested in the family business. I plan to send him back to his hometown of Beigang when he grows up and find a decent teacher for him there. .”

Anson chuckled in response: "You really love this son."

"No way, he is the only son of the Wetzler family...I can't refuse him." Mason smiled bitterly and sighed helplessly:

"It's just that the next generation of the Wetzler family seems to be unable to do business and will have to make a living by selling paintings."

"I know a very young painter who is very famous in Clovis City - I heard that a painting with calligraphy sold for a sky-high price at a charity auction." Anson took the topic enthusiastically:

"If you don't mind, I can write a letter inviting him to come to Beluga Harbor and become your son's private tutor."

"Really?!" Mason's eyes lit up:

"I...I don't even know how to thank you. You are so, so generous. Here's the Ring of Order, the great painter of Clovis City...little Baekeland will be so excited that he can't sleep!"

Anson smiled lightly: "It's just a little effort."

But the other party's expression did not diminish at all because of his politeness, but instead became much more solemn; he stood up straight and even straightened his collar deliberately.

"For you, this may really be just a piece of cake; but for the Wetzler family, this matter is of great significance." Mason said seriously:

"Therefore, as the owner of the Wetzler family and the father of little Baekeland, I must solemnly express my gratitude to you on behalf of him... and also on behalf of the Wetzler family."

Anson nodded slightly and changed the topic: "In that case, can I use this matter in exchange to ask you something?"

"Of course, what do you want to ask?" Mason agreed casually and enthusiastically.

Anson looked at him and deliberately hid his right hand behind his back, his smile not diminishing:

"Faithless...Knights."

As soon as he finished speaking, the warm restaurant suddenly became a bit hotter.

The enthusiastic Mason still leaned forward slightly, his eyes widened, as if he was still preparing to listen to Anson's questions.

The smiling Anson remained silent, quietly observing each other's every move.

Just then, the previous housekeeper walked into the room pushing a dining cart, followed by a woman in gorgeous clothes.

She was about in her early thirties, holding a bottle of black rum in her arms, with her hair tied up in a high bun and a slightly plump figure, coupled with decent attire and demeanor, she looked graceful and luxurious, like Clovis. The lady of the city.

But in that reserved look, there was a trace of well-hidden fear.

"Good evening, distinguished commander of the garrison." She bowed slightly and walked towards Anson holding the bottle of black rum, which looked expensive at first glance:

"I heard that you are going to be a guest at our house tonight. What an honor! I went to check the wine cellar and found this precious bottle..."

"lady."

The enthusiastic Mason suddenly spoke and said to the lady beside him without looking back: "It's already very late. You should go back to your room and rest first...you don't have to wait for me."

"Very late? But it's not yet nine o'clock..."

Mrs. Wetzler said "surprised", her eyes flickering between the two of them: "As the hostess of this family, pouring wine for distinguished guests is the only thing I can do..."

"It's already very late." Mason repeated flatly, still not looking back at her:

"Go back and rest first."

The elegant Mrs. Wetzler froze on the spot, trying her best to keep smiling.

The butler stood silently behind the dining car, bowing his head and saying nothing.

"Mrs. Wetzler." Anson, who had always been silent, suddenly said.

"Um?!"

The noble lady suddenly turned her head and looked at Anson with a smile, as if she was looking at a beast about to eat people.

But Ansen just caressed her chest gently and saluted her solemnly:

"Nice to meet you and wish you a sweet dream tonight."

"Ah! Oh... thank you! I... I also wish you... I wish you a... a pleasant night!"

She stammered her polite words, turned around and handed the wine bottle to the butler who remained silent. She bowed politely to the two of them and fled the cozy restaurant with grace.

In the quiet room, the butler in front of the dining car silently opened the bottle of wine and served the food to the two of them.

For a moment, the atmosphere seemed to be back to what it was at the beginning.

"The Faithless Knights?"

Mason picked up a glass of rum very naturally, with a bit of curiosity in his doubtful eyes: "What is that? It sounds very much like the gang from the Empire."

"This is a group of traitors to the empire, an underground organization composed of small groups." Anson explained matter-of-factly:

"On Teapot Street a few days ago, I killed one and captured the remaining two - they have confessed that the soldiers and civilians who were killed a few days ago were their work."

"oh?!"

Mason looked shocked: "So...they are in Beluga Harbor?!"

"And it has been in the colony for many years." Anson nodded slightly, observing the other person's eyes gradually becoming serious:

"Not only that, these knights who escaped the empire not only inherited the power of blood, but also abandoned their faith and became godless!"

"A godless knight?!" Mason was even more shocked.

"So you can understand my concerns?"

Anson nodded slightly, picked up the wine glass and took a sip: "A group of imperial knights entrenched in the colonies, and they also call themselves 'disbelievers'... I don't need to explain how much harm such guys can cause lurking around us." ”

"Indeed!"

Mason couldn't hide his shock and nodded repeatedly, but there was still a trace of confusion in his eyes: "But...what kind of help can I provide you for such a guy?"

"Mr. Mason Wetzler, you are the most successful businessman in the entire Ice Dragon Fjord, bar none." Anson put down his wine glass, chuckled and said:

"A successful businessman like you must know how to identify the price of goods and what kind of people are more sincere buyers."

"Thank you for the compliment, but I... don't understand what you are talking about."

Mason smiled apologetically, his eyes full of sincerity: "Please be more detailed."

Anson raised his eyebrows and spoke softly: "I learned from my secretary that you are mainly engaged in ocean trade; salt, leather, seafood, ores... and immigration."

"Especially immigrants - every year thousands of people in the mainland want to leave the old world and start a new life in the new world. Excluding a small number of stowaways, the vast majority need to rely on ocean trade; I am in Beigang I once found out that a ticket to the New World is worth three months’ salary of an ordinary boatman.”

"Not only that, these new immigrants are also very valuable 'commodities' in the colonies. Many farms, workshops and mines are willing to 'reserve' certain skilled immigrants at a price and are very happy to pay for them."

"So I came to a conclusion." Anson concluded with a smile:

"If there is anyone in the entire colony who knows the situation and details of immigrants best, it must be the person who holds the largest share in the 'immigration trade'."

"That is you, Your Excellency Mason Wetzler."

Anson's tone was extremely certain.

The butler on the side silently stepped forward and filled their wine glasses again. The mellow black rum exuded a rich aroma along with the heat wave lingering in the room.

Mason took a sip and then slowly put down the wine glass in his hand: "Your secretary is very powerful. In the past, the immigration of Beluga Port was always handled by the Beluga Port Chamber of Commerce, that is, the Wetzler family."

"Thank you." Anson chuckled.

"But that doesn't mean that I know the details of all of them - for example, if you didn't tell me, I wouldn't even know that there is a group of guys calling themselves the 'Faithless Knights' in Beluga Port." Mason's tone was extremely sincere:

"I couldn't believe they had the guts to attack your soldiers."

"Maybe they didn't mean it." Anson's smile continued:

"I just had to do this because of instructions from certain people."

"That's right! That's it. You're absolutely right!"

Mason suddenly became excited, his expression seemed to empathize deeply: "Beluga Harbor is a small place, and everyone knows each other - so we often have to make decisions that go against our hearts because of certain people!"

"Actually, as long as you have the choice, you don't have to do many things! We all just want to live a good life, what's wrong with that?!"

"This is not wrong!" Anson said with absolute certainty:

"Having the freedom of choice...I personally think this is the biggest difference between the colonies and the mainland."

"I think so."

Mason believed deeply: "Freedom, freedom of choice... This is the most attractive thing about the colonies; not only buyers can choose whose goods they want to buy, but sellers can also choose who to sell their goods to."

"Now, I, the buyer, want to buy a product from you." Anson pressed his chest and looked at the other party meaningfully:

"The Faithless Knights."

"But this is also the first time I've heard of them."

Mason's eyes were sincere.

"It doesn't matter - you just said that Beluga Harbor is a small place and everyone knows each other." Anson's eyes were more sincere than his:

"I don't need you to hand over the Faithless Knights to me because you don't know them...so I just need you to do one small thing for me."

"Of course." Mason agreed immediately: "What's the matter?"

"An organization like the Faithless Knights cannot have sponsors behind it; and those who can fund the Faithless Knights must be very powerful in Beluga Port." Anson said solemnly:

"I hope you can tell them for me to stop funding the Faithless Knights and any similar organizations, and to sever ties with them."

"no problem."

Mason nodded excitedly, his expression obviously more relaxed than at first: "Is there anything else?"

"No more, this is the only thing I want." Anson shook his head: "A peaceful and prosperous Beluga Port without heretics and underground organizations is good for all of us."

"You are absolutely right. This is exactly what we all hope for." Mason nodded slightly and turned his eyes slightly:

"Then I don't know what price you are willing to give for such a product..."

Anson chuckled and said, "I don't know much about trade, why don't you give me a price?"

"I'm happy to oblige." Mason hesitated for a moment and asked semi-tentatively:

“What do you think of ‘promise to maintain the status quo of Beluga Harbor within the next three years’…?”

"Sounds like a very reasonable price." Anson nodded slightly:

"But no."