Chapter 87: Speculating in Land, Housing, and Pharmaceuticals

Although Bourn didn't quite know how to comfort people, he was aware of a universally applicable method—a well-worn formula: distraction. Leading the two men to the new location of the Lehmann Trading Company, Bourn watched as Viscount Gordon and the Knight Commander were rendered speechless at the sight of the immense domed building before them. Their first instinct was disbelief, but upon a second glance, the exaggerated, gigantic emblem persuaded them otherwise.

True to the Lehmann Trading Company's style, the emblematic, oversized insignia was impossible to ignore. This had always been the hallmark of the company: every branch featured a sign that dominated a third of the storefront, and from time to time, eye-catching display racks or gaudy discount banners would be hung out front—so straightforward and crude that anyone could see and understand from afar. This approach had long irked the venerable old shops with a century’s legacy; at the mere mention of the Lehmann Trading Company, their faces would twist in disgust.

“Er… How much did your grandfather invest in you?” Viscount Gordon asked with a hint of envy. The difference between the treatment of a legitimate son and a beloved grandson was staggering—he himself had only received a shabby little castle in the countryside, while the grandson was handed a colossal, state-of-the-art trading house in the heart of the city.

These were no longer the days when Sevinton had just been founded, centuries ago, when land was nearly worthless and whoever built a house first claimed the ground beneath it as their own. The Eolem Manor had grown so vast because it was built then. Since those days, Sevinton had expanded multiple times, and plots that were once considered worthless had now soared to astronomical prices per square meter.

A faint smile played at Bourn’s lips as he gave a couple of dismissive snorts. “I bought this with my own money. Grandfather didn’t give me a single copper.”

Heh…

Viscount Gordon shot Bourn a sidelong glance, disbelief written all over his face, but as he gazed at Bourn’s confident demeanor, he couldn’t help but waver inwardly.

The Knight Commander, who had previously trained Bourn in the arts of knighthood and knew him quite well, was especially attentive to subtle details of the body. He could tell at once that Bourn was telling the truth.

It was real!

The Knight Commander gave Bourn a closer look; it seemed that every encounter with this young man brought a new surprise. This time, though, the shock was so great it bordered on terror.

Was this fellow favored by the goddess Waukeen…?

(In truth, the goddess Waukeen already existed—she had come into being with the first gold coin. She had not yet fully taken shape; at this time, she was little more than a deity passed from mouth to mouth, not yet empowered by sufficient faith to manifest. Still, her name was often invoked, and as time went on, she would indeed emerge. Her golden age came during the height of the Amn Empire, before the Time of Troubles, when her divine power nearly reached the level of the greater gods.)

The Knight Commander’s eyes swept over the domed structure; the trading house must cover at least five thousand square meters. Regardless of what such a vast area was to be used for, the location alone—only slightly marred by its proximity to the East District—was superb. The land itself could not have been acquired for less than ten million gold coins. Even old noble families would struggle to produce so much cash at once, never mind the row of shops along the perimeter, which had been cordoned off with simple fences, clearly marked as Lehmann Trading Company property. Paired with this unusual building, even the Knight Commander, who had no head for economics, could tell that every square meter represented a fortune in gold.

“This used to be the East District slums. A few months ago, the place was plagued by evil corruption, so severe the very land was tainted. No one wanted it; the landlords were desperate to find buyers. As luck would have it, they ran into me—so kind-hearted—so I reluctantly took it off their hands.” Bourn’s nonchalant tone, paired with his smug expression, made one itch to plant a fist right in his face.

No doubt there had been some shady backroom dealings. However unbelievable it seemed, Viscount Gordon found himself accepting this as fact.

“How much did you pay for the land?” Gordon asked.

Bourn held up two fingers.

“Two million?” Gordon guessed.

“No, two hundred thousand,” Bourn sighed. “It nearly exhausted all of Lehmann Trading Company's liquid assets just to buy it!”

Heh…

Snapping up a plot worth nearly ten million for a mere two hundred thousand, and still complaining about the price—Viscount Gordon felt an overwhelming urge to disown his own son for the greater good.

“Haha, the former owner must be weeping,” the Knight Commander laughed.

“Not quite. None of them died sobbing, but suicides at the city wall have gone up lately.”

Heh, times two.

What a hilarious joke…

If Bourn weren’t his blood, Viscount Gordon would have doubted his own paternity. Talent was one thing, but this ability to make money was outrageous. If memory served, Bourn wasn’t even of age yet; he hadn’t graduated, yet he’d already amassed a fortune it would take a family a hundred years to accumulate.

In comparison, as a father, he felt like little more than a useless failure.

For a moment, Viscount Gordon was nearly driven mad.

Fortunately, Bourn had no desire to crush his poor father's remaining shred of dignity. Afterward, he led Viscount Gordon and the Knight Commander on a tour of the premises, inside and out.

“Arcane Garden? Spell potions?” Viscount Gordon frowned, his expression grave as he looked at Bourn. “Does your father know about this?”

“Yes, Grandfather knows,” Bourn nodded.

“He knows? Impossible!”

Viscount Gordon was astonished. He had received some magical education, and he understood that if spell potions became widely available, the market would be rocked to its core.

Speculating on land was one thing—a sudden windfall, a surge of wealth that might merely arouse envy. But spell potions were a different matter entirely; they would upend the existing distribution of wealth. The profits involved would be enormous—and long-term. Such vast interests could put the family in a vulnerable position.

At fifty percent profit, capital is bold; at a hundred percent, it dares to trample all laws; at three hundred percent, it will commit any crime, even risk the gallows!

Viscount Gordon understood this well. What’s more, this was not a mere three hundred percent profit—so lucrative that even devils would go mad for it!

While his expression wavered, Bourn took out several invitation letters and handed them to the Viscount. Gordon glanced at them and immediately understood Bourn’s intention, breaking into a pleased smile.

“No problem, leave it to me!” he said, turning on his heel. The Knight Commander hesitated for a moment, not quite sure what was happening, but followed anyway.

With Viscount Gordon taken care of, Bourn made his way to the laboratory. It was empty, lacking many instruments and materials, but these were minor issues that could be resolved in time. The primary task was to establish the Arcane Garden. Despite the current momentum of the Lehmann Trading Company, its strength was all surface—its cash flow had been cut off for over a month.

He had been holding on, waiting for market excitement to peak so as to maximize profits; once that was done, selling off the surrounding storefronts would not only recoup the investment but yield a handsome gain.

Bourn then began preparing a special liquid dye. The new trading house, though vast inside, was still too small for cultivating magical plants; spatial expansion was required. He brought out two large barrels and began mixing the ingredients, fine-tuning the proportions with the aid of his chip’s real-time monitoring.

The next step was the most challenging: carving spatial expansion runes into the walls, and inscribing magical arrays on the floor to gather arcane energy.

All of this, Bourn had to accomplish single-handedly.

…