Mike Bai felt as though his lungs might explode, his tiny heart pounding furiously as he ran, his exhausted body craving oxygen at every turn. He pushed himself forward, relying solely on his willpower. Sweat streamed down his face, dripping onto the yellow sand beneath him, and all he could hear was the harsh rhythm of his own breathing.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mike Bai slowed to a stop, gasping for air. Immediately, Adila and Sasan were at his side, towels in hand, ready to wipe the sweat from his face.
Mike Bai waved them off, taking the towel himself and wiping his brow. "Back in the day, the legendary travelers endured the flames without flinching. But here I am, struggling to run a kilometer."
After a long moment, Mike Bai finally caught his breath. He handed the towel back to Adila, signaling for him to leave, but kept Sasan behind.
"Have you found out the details?" Mike Bai asked.
"The steward works for a textile merchant named Hapus," Sasan said, lowering her voice, leaning in close to Mike Bai's ear. "Though the records of the Assassins have been erased, and there's no direct evidence linking him to the assassins, there are some... troubling patterns."
She continued quietly, "In the five years since Hapus started his business, seven of his competitors have met unfortunate ends—some of which we were involved in."
"And I discovered that two months ago, the steward went out on a trip under the guise of importing salt. But he returned with wool from the mountain regions."
"So, it's highly likely that he's involved," Mike Bai said, his voice turning serious.
Sasan nodded. "If you order it, I can end his life tonight."
Mike Bai sighed. "Don't be so quick to jump to violence. We don't have enough proof yet. I won't order a kill without solid evidence."
"If he's a merchant, then we'll use merchant tactics to deal with him," Mike Bai said with a sly smile, pulling Sasan aside to whisper in her ear.
Afternoon at the Textile Guild
"President, don't you think there are a bit too many textile merchants in the city?" A young man with a gentle face took the wine cup offered by the guild president and spoke with a smile.
"Steward, every guild member is accepted through consensus, based on their craftsmanship and willingness to abide by the guild's standards," the president replied.
"Is that so? I heard that a certain merchant, Hapus, has had a string of accidents befall his competitors. Fires, robberies, you name it," the steward said, his voice laced with concern.
The president waved his hand dismissively. "That's just city gossip. Nothing to take seriously."
"My lord, Mike Bai, has been working very closely with you, and he hopes to continue this cooperation long-term. However..." The steward paused, choosing his words carefully. "Hapus did approach my master in private. Although I don't know the details of their conversation, it was clear my lord wasn't pleased."
"Hapus might have just made a mistake. If there's any offense, I trust you can smooth things over with a few kind words," the president said, bowing his head and refilling the steward's cup.
"Of course, I wouldn't want to trouble you, President," the steward replied, his emphasis on the title clear.
A moment later, he spoke again. "There's another matter. My master, out of kindness for the pilgrims, wishes to offer you a batch of cheap wool for clothing to keep them warm."
The president's eyes lit up. "And what's the price?"
The steward didn't look up, instead focusing on his wine cup. "Ten copper finny per pound. Of course, we hope you'll show compassion and help the people of the Holy City with cheaper garments."
The president hesitated. "Reducing the price so much, isn't that a bit outside the rules?"
"My lord said that all merchants who sign agreements with him will receive a batch of this wool, with your sponsorship being the most significant. This way, most will support your decisions," the steward explained. "And I believe many poor citizens will praise your generosity. Some bankrupt weavers might even come to you for help."
The president's eyes flickered with doubt, but after a long silence, he finally spoke. "The people of the Holy City will surely thank Mike Bai, but..."
"My lord doesn't seek their gratitude. He simply heard that there's a property in the southern part of the city with exceptionally fine sheep. He wishes to study the wool there."
"In that case, I'll immediately contact my friends in the guild and ensure that Mike Bai's request is met. Don't worry, I'll handle everything," the president said, shaking hands with the steward.
The Next Day
Mike Bai was playing with Anna when Sasan approached him.
"My lord, the matter has been settled. The president has agreed to our request."
"Good! Next, we cut off his supply of raw materials," Mike Bai said, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
He clenched his fist. "Sasan, spread the word. Starting today, I'm raising the price of wool from five copper finny per pound to six."
"Understood, my lord," Sasan said with a nod, taking her leave.
Anna, curious, leaned over. "Mike Bai, what does all this mean?"
"It's simple," Mike Bai replied. "Any merchant who relies on raw materials needs them to keep their workshop running. If we cut off his supply and squeeze his market, his workshop will collapse on its own."
"What if he just raises the price of wool to keep going?" Anna asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"Then every piece of fabric he sells will cost him a loss of at least five copper finny. Meanwhile, we're still making a decent profit at this price," Mike Bai explained, ruffling Anna's hair with a smile.
"Is there no way for him to retaliate?" Anna asked, still trying to figure out the plan.
"From a business perspective, our costs are already so low that we're virtually unbeatable," Mike Bai said, his tone light.
"Now, we just need to see if he resorts to methods outside of business."
A Week Later, at Hapus' Merchant House
"Boss, we have a problem!" The steward rushed in, breathless.
Hapus, enjoying the attention of his maid, immediately frowned upon seeing the distressed steward. "What is it? Is the sky falling?"
"Many merchants have received a batch of cheap wool from Mike Bai, and they've started selling woolen fabric at a loss. Now, woolen cloth is everywhere, selling at just 15 copper finny per pound!" the steward exclaimed.
Hapus's face darkened. "That old fool, the guild president. Haven't I been feeding him enough? How dare he go after me?"
"Not only that, but Mike Bai has also raised the wool purchase price, and now the wool suppliers are refusing to sell to us."
Furious, Hapus kicked the table over, sending the maid cowering to the ground.
"Prepare my carriage. I'm going to the Textile Guild," he barked.
The Guild
An hour later, Hapus arrived, only to be blocked by the closed gates.
"The president went to Damascus for supplies. He won't be back for a month," the gatekeeper said.
Hapus's expression grew darker still. His fury was a silent storm as he stood at the gates, his servants keeping their distance.
"You'll regret this," Hapus muttered under his breath. He summoned his steward.
"Notify all the merchants who haven't secured wool. Anyone who still wants to do business with wool should come to my merchant house."
Later, at Hapus' Merchant House
A group of small merchants gathered around Hapus, speaking nervously.
"Boss, what do we do now?"
"Tell us, Hapus, what's the plan?"
Hapus slammed his fist on the table. "Enough!"
"They're trying to force us out of the market, and we're still here arguing like fools."
He leaned over the table, his eyes narrowing, and silence fell over the room.
"They want to drop prices? Fine. We'll play their game. But we won't lose this market."
"But they have cheap wool. We can't outlast them!" one merchant protested.
"Let them have it," Hapus said dismissively.
"But they're nobles! We could be sued by the city courts!"
"Then just wait to die! Watch as those vultures gobble up everything we've built," Hapus snapped. His eyes grew sharp. "We'll find a scapegoat. Don't make me explain it to you."
The room grew tense.
"At this point, do you want to act, or not?" Hapus continued, picking up a bunch of grapes and popping one into his mouth. "If you don't, you'll get nothing. But if you do, you'll still make something."
In the end, the merchants agreed to Hapus' plan.
Later
As the steward saw off the merchants and returned to the hall, he found only a hunched figure standing by the window.
"Boss, do we still have a chance?" the steward asked hesitantly.
Hapus, once so confident, now looked troubled. His gaze was distant as he sighed deeply.
"It's hard. One wrong move, and everything we've built for over a decade is lost."
Hapus reflected on his journey from a humble apprentice to where he was now. It had taken countless years of struggle to rise to the top.
"Steward, you've been with me for eight years now, right?" Hapus asked, his voice quiet.
"Yes, boss. Since you became the shopkeeper," the steward replied.
"Go find a sympathetic tax officer and see if he can help. Also, sell off the wool and fabric we have in stock at a discount. It's time we prepared for the worst."
The steward wanted to speak further, but Hapus waved him off. He stood by the window, staring into the last of the evening light.
"I thought he was just a lucky little noble," Hapus muttered. "Turns out, he's a small lion with sharp teeth."