Chapter 328

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An hour later, Abel left the royal palace. Prince Ponce was not as incompetent as imagined, but he was greedier than expected. The procurement price offered was only 70 percent of what was paid for the arms last time, and the quantity requested was even greater. However, the reported price was only discounted by 10 percent. The remaining 20 percent difference was the kickback Prince Ponce demanded. 

In turn, Abel would receive the outdated weapons at an even lower price. It was like getting a bargain and then bragging about it. Those junk weapons would not be bought by any arms dealer; they could only be sold as scrap. Essentially, it meant earning money twice, then shoving junk in his face. It also allowed Ponce to impress his royal father and other ministers. Abel readily agreed to these highly unreasonable demands. 

Not only to break into the smuggling market here but also to encourage Ponce's continued ego inflation. To make him perish, first lead him to madness! Abel had already figured out how to get back all that money, with interest. But before that, he needed to find a suitable buyer for the batch of junk weapons soon to be phased out. For a qualified merchant, there's no such thing as unsellable goods, only the lack of the right customers. So, who would be suitable for these junk weapons?

The Shabby Tavern, true to its name, was both poor and rundown. Only two things were sold there: inferior alcohol and cheap rye bread. Despite this, every evening, it would be filled with people. Most of them had just finished work and came with their meager pay to drink some bad alcohol, eat some sour rye bread, and then stagger home to sleep. If you didn't mind the mix of sweat, body odor, foot odor, and some strange stench, you could choose to sleep on a table. Then, you'd wait to be thrown out into the garbage heap outside, keeping company with the flies and mosquitoes. Despite its filth, the tavern was one of the few places of entertainment for the lower classes nearby. During the day, the Shabby Tavern was usually closed, only opening at night. But nobody knew that there was another world beneath this dingy tavern. Six or seven rugged men in simple clothes were hiding here, discussing something, and the tavern owner 'Old Limp' was among them.

"Recently, another 23 people have joined us, all of whom have suffered the same fate."

"Damn it, those nobles and royals don't treat us like humans."

"That's why we need to unite and overturn the rule of this country, to establish a new government."

"That is the ultimate goal, but now we need to take it one step at a time."

"That's right, as more people join us, the funds we've collected are running out. We are also in urgent need of a large amount of medicine, clothing, and weapons!"

"Especially weapons, if we want to take action again, we can't let our people keep fighting soldiers with rifles using only kitchen knives and sticks."

"We're not short of courage, but dying like that is meaningless, and I can't accept it."

"I know. We might find a way to get medicine and clothing, but where do we buy arms? With what money? Who has the connections? Even if we solve these problems, those heartless arms dealers will exploit us and bleed us dry!"

"We always have to try," a man with several fierce scars on his face, who was sitting beside, suddenly spoke up: "I happen to know where we can buy some weapons."

"Scarface, you know?"

Everyone looked at him with confusion.

All present were well-acquainted comrades. Could it be that Scarface had secrets unknown to the rest of them?

Scarface said in a deep voice, "Remember the fleet that docked at the port a couple of days ago? One of my insubordinate underlings sneaked in under the cover of night, intending to steal something to sell. However, when he opened a crate, he found it full of weapons, which frightened him off immediately."

"Today I saw him distracted and acting nervously, so after pressing him, he finally revealed what happened."

Upon hearing this, everyone was startled.

Then, with a heavy tone, someone added, "Even if this is true, the weapons brought by the others are meant for the kingdom. How much could we possibly afford?"

The thought of the soldiers getting new weapons while they struggled to obtain a few old guns cast a pall over the group.

At this rate, overthrowing the government was out of the question.

Sooner or later, they would all be captured and executed.

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the group.

But just then, a voice sounded as the door opened.

"Are you choosing to give up? Why not give it one more try? There might be a miracle."

"Who is it?"

Scarface and the others stood up nervously, looking towards the newcomer.

Their hideout was secret, and no outsider should know of it.

If discovered by the king's forces, they would all be doomed.

"Please, there's no need for alarm. Let me introduce myself; I am an arms dealer from the distant north. You may call me Mr. Abel."

"The very weapons you were discussing earlier are the merchandise I brought to this island."

Everyone instinctively looked at Scarface, who became anxious, "It wasn't me, how could I make such a mistake!"

Abel spoke up for him, "Indeed, it was he who led me here, but unknowingly."

"The youth who sneaked onto my ship was deliberately allowed to escape, and has been under surveillance by my men ever since."

Scarface's face turned extremely sour, and the others looked equally displeased, their eyes filled with resentment.

They should have realized sooner—how could a ship laden with weapons be left unguarded for a youth to easily infiltrate?

Obviously, it was bait laid out by the dealer.

"What do you want?" Scarface asked sternly, not daring to make a rash move.

Seeing that Abel had come to them, it was clear he must be confident in his position.

If there were to be a confrontation, they would surely be at a disadvantage. 

No one should presume that an arms dealer would be an easy target. They were known to be ruthless!

"It's simple. I want to do business with you, a substantial deal!" Abel, ignoring the crowd, took the main seat as if he owned the place.

"We impoverished folk can't afford your weapons."

"I know, but if we change the terms, you'll find them affordable," Abel remarked confidently.

The group exchanged glances, perhaps considering his proposal.