119: Chapter 0119 Price Frenzy

"Mr. Li Size," his voice carried a deliberate steadiness.

"22 silver coins for a little sorcerer donkey? This exceeds our estimates!"

Li Size twirled a fountain pen between his fingers, his gaze sweeping over Hawke's tense jaw, a faint smile playing on his lips:

"Major, have you done the math?"

"22 silver just barely covers my raw material costs and labor."

"Three hundred workers need to eat, machine tools need maintenance—I can't exactly run a business at a loss."

Hawke took a deep breath, anger and desire intertwining in his chest...

He knew Li Size was telling the truth, but the budget red line hung over his head like a knife.

"100 silver for a witchcraft motorcycle... can't it be any lower?"

His tone softened, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the buckle of his briefcase.

Li Size's finger paused on the table, his brow furrowing as if in difficult calculation; after a long moment, he suddenly sucked in a breath of cold air.

He clutched his chest, putting on an expression as if he were cutting off his own flesh:

"Alright, Major, I'll make one more concession:"

"Eighteen silver and eighty copper for the little sorcerer donkey, ninety-four silver and twenty copper for the witchcraft motorcycle, and three gold for the Blue Star version!"

He spread his hands, his tone carrying a deliberate heartache:

"But I want a five-year exclusive supply contract, public endorsement from the military, and that 'support that doesn't violate military discipline.'"

"Oh! Damn it, just consider it my sacrifice and contribution to the Duchy."

Hawke was delighted to hear this; it was over one silver lower than the bottom-line price given to him by the military bigshots, which was more than enough for him to report back.

Thinking that in the near future, he too would be straddling a motorcycle with a winds kiss at his waist, he almost blurted out, "Deal!"

When Hawke finally signed his name on the contract, the rustling sound of the pen tip across the paper exploded in Li Size's ears like a clap of thunder.

"The military will issue an announcement within half a month: Li Size Machinery Manufacturing Factory."

"From today on, you are a strategic supplier for the military."

Li Size saw Hawke's tense shoulders slowly relax, a hint of relief flashing in the depths of his eyes. He stood up and extended his hand:

"Pleasure doing business with you, Major."

Hawke shook his hand, the sweat on his palm betraying his struggle just moments ago:

"I hope your little sorcerer donkey and witchcraft motorcycle are worth this price."

Li Size smiled, his eyes flashing with a confident light:

"It will make the enemies at the border remember their value very well."

Hawke's arrival brought Li Size the detailed next steps of the merchant guild's action plan against him.

They were employing various means, not hesitating to spend heavily to bribe several of Li Size's original long-term suppliers.

Through secret contracts and paying high liquidated damages on their behalf, they ensured these suppliers turned to serve the De Kela Si Merchant Guild, thereby completely cutting off Li Size's original raw material supply channels for the little sorcerer donkey.

Simultaneously, the guild planned to frantically speculate on key raw Materials like brass, oak, and sorcery crystals in the short term through large-scale market acquisitions and spreading rumors of supply shortages.

They artificially drove up prices, intending to crush Li Size with the De Kela Si Merchant Guild's powerful financial strength and market share.

This way, for every little sorcerer donkey Li Size produced, he would face massive losses due to skyrocketing raw material costs, eventually becoming unable to maintain production and falling into a financial crisis.

The De Kela Si Merchant Guild had traversed the business battlefields of the Crimson Soul Duchy for over a hundred years, renowned for its swift, precise, and ruthless methods, often seizing control of the situation before an opponent even noticed.

Their history was full of similar cases of commercial annexation, backed by deep pockets and an extensive network.

If Li Size had no way out and could not quickly find alternative suppliers or cope with price fluctuations, it would truly be a dead end, and his business might completely collapse!

The next day, Felina received letters from the original brass, oak, and sorcery crystal suppliers refusing to continue supplying raw Materials.

The first letter was from Iron Anvil Brass Mining; the rough parchment carried the scent of rust, the handwriting bold as if chiseled:

"Due to a strategic adjustment of raw material channels, the brass supply agreement is terminated effective immediately. Liquidated damages will be paid in full by a third party."

The second letter, from Green Forest Oak Tree Farm, wafted with the scent of pine; the tone was polite but left no room for negotiation:

"Affected by market fluctuations and changes in partners, we can no longer provide oak lumber. We hope your factory can source it elsewhere."

The third envelope, from the Stardust Crystal Merchant Guild, shimmered with a faint purple light; the wording was obscure yet resolute:

"Occult resource allocation policy update: supply of sorcery crystals to non-designated parties is suspended. All undelivered orders are canceled immediately."

The seals at the bottom of the three letters were stamped exceptionally deep, as if branding the end of the cooperation onto the paper.

And that wasn't all...

By noon, when the sun was at its fiercest, even Infinite Studio, which had previously enjoyed a pleasant cooperation with Li Size and Felina, sent a letter of apology:

Due to specific market reasons, they could no longer provide processing services for core modules for Li Size.

The factory fell into a standstill in an instant...

The roar of the machine tools, like a snapped string, suddenly vanished into the air.

In the workshop, only dust slowly settled in the afternoon sunlight, landing on the unfinished frames of the little sorcerer donkeys.

The brass joints still gleamed with a cold light, but they would never see the subsequent assembly.

In a corner, a wrench slipped from a worker's hand with a "clang," rolling into a gap in the assembly line, the sound exceptionally piercing in the silence.

A few old workers squatted on the ground, not noticing that the cigarettes in their hands had burned to the end; ash fell onto the oily floor, leaving black marks.

"What are we going to do?"

A young female worker's voice carried a sob; she was still clutching freshly cut oak parts.

"My child's tuition is due next month..."

The middle-aged man beside her patted her shoulder but said nothing to comfort her:

He had his own debts weighing him down.

Some huddled together, whispering:

"I heard the boss drove out of town last night. Did he run off with the money?"

"That can't be right? He was talking about expanding production just yesterday..."

"The suppliers are all cut off, and the core modules can't be made. If he doesn't run, is he just waiting for bankruptcy?"

Rumors grew like weeds among the crowd; anxiety was written on everyone's face, their eyes darting away, not daring to look at each other.

Some began packing their tool bags, putting screwdrivers and wrenches in one by one, their movements slow but resolute...

They knew this might be the last time they packed their things here.

An old worker walked to the machine tool he had worked on for months, gently stroking the cold body of the machine, murmuring to himself:

"When the factory was built, I was the one who tightened the first screw here..."

His voice choked, tears welling in his eyes.

The young apprentice stood to the side, looking at everything in bewilderment; he had only been on the job for a month and hadn't even had time to learn all the skills before facing the possibility of unemployment.

The entire factory was like an abandoned island, surrounded by the tide of despair.

The sun gradually slanted westward, the light through the skylights dimming, and the shadows in the workshop grew longer, as if to swallow all hope.

Rumors of bankruptcy hung over everyone like a curse, and everyone was asking:

"Tomorrow, can we still come to work?"

No one could provide an answer; only silence and unease permeated the air.