In the dim light, a plain-looking man hunched before Kayden, his figure appearing even more inconspicuous in the shadows. "Boss, are you really planning to hand over all the goods to Elmo?"
Kayden sat in a lavish chair crafted from red copper, adorned with an eagle in flight, gently swirling a glass of red wine in his hand. As the liquid spun, it reflected vibrant hues. "Dylan, what do you think?" His tone was playful, but his gaze remained fixed on the swirling drink.
Dylan's expression darkened. "Boss, the Pavilion of many is not a subordinate of LB Arena. His actions not only impact our relationships with other owners but are a blatant insult to us, as if we are his puppets to manipulate." Dylan's face was grim. He was Kayden's trusted aide, possessing no remarkable looks or martial prowess, but his intelligence and cunning had played a significant role in building Kayden's business.
"So, what do you suggest? Refuse him? That would mean opposing Elmo. We are in the West District, and the entire area belongs to LB Arena. If things escalate, we'll only hurt ourselves," Kayden said.
Dylan smirked. "But we are the major slave traders in Everlasting Wilds and the entire western region. If he turns against us, doesn't he fear that no one will do business with him again? After all, he's in the arena business, and slaves are his lifeblood. Without them, we won't need to lift a finger; ML Arena in the East will take LB Arena's place. Ruben, that old fox, is ambitious too."
Kayden nodded. "You make a good point; I understand what you're saying. But Elmo isn't a fool; he knows this as well. Also, why did he come to me just after returning to town? Why didn't he go straight to his arena after being away for so long? Doesn't he worry about something happening at home? Elmo might have acquired something significant in the Middle East. While our business is large, we're not the only ones in the West, and there are two or three others who've always been at odds with us. If they don't side with us and he has strong support from the Middle East, we could find ourselves with no way out."
Kayden glanced out the window and continued, "We're too weak in other regions. If we can't stay in Dune City, we have nowhere else to go. And that old Ruben isn't any good either; they can hold each other back, but if one side overcomes the other, the situation in Dune City will be worse than it was ten years ago when there was only ML Arena, and that would be detrimental to our development." He slowly drank the wine in his glass. "Give him the goods. After all, I'm one of the top slave traders in the West, and the title of Everlasting Wilds doesn't come for free. I don't believe LB Arena can handle this entire shipment. Hmph, urgently contact other buyers to delay shipments, and reach out through all my networks. I need to gather another batch of goods for other buyers within seven days. Elmo, don't underestimate me."
Dylan's face showed a flattering smile. "Yes, boss. You always have a plan. As long as I'm with you, I won't have to worry about anything."
Three days later, on a dawn, Elmo sent people to the Pavilion of Many to collect the goods. The large procession of slaves shook the entire Dune City. In the afternoon, Elmo returned from the Middle East with another grand convoy of slaves and various beasts. Dune City was in an uproar.
Dune City, East District, ML Arena.
"What? How did we receive no news beforehand?" Ruben roared in his mansion, seething with anger. "Are you all useless? How could such a long convoy only be reported when it reached the underground?"
Rufus, Ruben's cousin, dark-skinned and weathered, bore a deep scar on his right cheek, adding to his imposing presence. "Big brother, we don't know what happened. Maybe Elmo is up to something."
"Elmo, Elmo, what on earth do you want with so many slaves?" Ruben waved his arms, the layers of fat rippling like waves as he paced back and forth in the hall. He plopped heavily into his special white jade chair, swatting away a delicate female slave.
"Big brother, it seems Elmo is planning something big. If we don't take some countermeasures…" Rufus said, a hint of worry in his voice.
"Of course, I know that. The problem is we don't yet know his intentions. With so many slaves, if he mishandles them, he may not just lose profit; he might lose the entire LB Arena. What can we do? Should we buy a large number of slaves too? Even if we could buy them back, we'd struggle to manage them in the current situation. Moreover, we're an arena, not an underground bank; without sufficient fighting capacity, we have no value. Elmo, are you trying to mess with me? Sending so many people to the Middle East, how is there no return? If we knew what he was doing there, we wouldn't be so passive now. Elmo, what have you done in the Middle East? What could possibly support such large-scale actions?" After flipping the table in frustration, Ruben calmed down slightly, propping his round chin with his massive hand and squinting his meat-slit eyes ominously.
"Big brother, it seems we've underestimated Elmo. The fact that he quietly eliminated so many batches of our people shows he has capable subordinates. However, our last batch of people likely returned from the Middle East when he was already on his way back. So when we hear news about them, we should be able to find some clues," Rufus said, straightening the upturned table with calmness.
"It's nearly impossible to deduce what he's done based only on tracking his whereabouts, especially since we don't know how accurate those reports are. Forget it; we can only wait and see." Ruben nodded. "Where's Troy? Tell him to stop chasing whores for the next few days and report to me honestly."
Dune City, West District, Sablehold of Enslavement.
"What is Elmo thinking? Not only has he taken all my goods, but he's also brought back such a huge batch from the Middle East. What does he want?" Kayden sat at his proud dining table, piled high with a variety of delicious dishes, yet he had no appetite.
"Given the current situation, a large-scale gladiatorial event is inevitable. It just depends on how Elmo arranges it. With so many slaves suddenly collected, he might burst before he gets to feast," Dylan remarked from the side.
"Elmo isn't that foolish; I just can't figure out what he's planning. Does the Middle East truly hold such power? It's been a while since I've gone out; maybe I should venture out to taste some delicacies from various places," Kayden mused, looking up at the ceiling, where rays of sunlight streamed through, casting a warm smile on his face.
Dune City, West District, LB Arena.
Though LB Arena was large, accommodating such a massive influx of slaves was no easy task. The entire arena buzzed with activity, with figures darting about.
"Boss, while I know you have foresight, is it really okay to take in so many goods all at once?" In Elmo's study, all his trusted aides gathered. A tall, slender man in his forties squinted, furrowing his brow in concern.
"Austyn, my old friend, what's gotten into you? You're being so timid; this isn't like you," Elmo chuckled, glancing at the speaker.
"Ah, but boss, I'm responsible for the entire financial flow of LB Arena. Not to mention the cost of buying so many slaves, just their basic food and clothing will incur considerable expenses. You may not be responsible for the costs, but I see the price with my own eyes and feel it in my heart," Austyn replied helplessly.
"Alright, alright, my dear Austyn. You're the steward of LB Arena, overseeing its economic lifeblood. I know your caution is for our benefit. I assure you, soon your gold coins will fill your courtyard," Elmo said, his mood buoyant as he laughed heartily.
"But boss, how do you plan to handle these slaves?" A round, portly man standing next to Austyn asked respectfully.
"Eh? Didn't I mention this? Augustus, I need you to train a batch of excellent gladiators. I want young, strong ones; they will be our trump card when we compete in arenas across the continent in three years. Surely, you haven't forgotten that," Elmo replied, looking at the plump Augustus with a curious expression.
"But… with so many, how do I select them?" Augustus hesitated, asking another question. He wasn't a novice and didn't typically require the boss's input, but such a grand undertaking was unprecedented in gladiatorial history, leaving even the experienced Augustus momentarily at a loss.
"Oh, that's simple. Just control the age; select those with potential and development. It doesn't matter if they have fighting skills right now. I've said it before; I want the best. Just pick the good ones," Elmo said, puffing on a cigar and shrugging.
"Understood, boss. If there's nothing else, I'll go select the candidates now," Augustus.