Zaren's triumphant return also meant that the insurance merchant Sabel Kaffi had to honor his contract worth 20,000 Gold Dragons.
In Westeros, one Gold Dragon could buy a lame draft horse. 20,000 Gold Dragons was no small sum for anyone.
"Initially, he refused to pay, claiming he needed to verify the authenticity of the news," 'Ledger' Pate reported to Arthur with a guilty look.
"Now he says the sum is too large and demands to pay in installments over a year."
"Furthermore, Sabel Kaffi added a condition. He requires us to guarantee the safety of the captains insured by him traveling between White Harbor and Braavos. If any accident occurs, he will deduct the compensation from the 20,000 Gold Dragons."
"And he demands that we do not engage in insurance-related businesses in Braavos."
"When signing the contract, I didn't specify a payment date upon completion, allowing Sabel Kaffi to exploit the loophole." Pate placed a new contract in front of Arthur, his face full of remorse.
"My Lord, this is my fault. I am willing to accept any punishment."
Hearing Pate's words, Arthur, a former wage slave in his past life, felt a wave of familiarity. Wasn't this one-eyed fat man just finding excuses to delay payment and dock wages?
Arthur scanned the new contract and found it exactly as Pate described. He knew the fault didn't lie with Pate and comforted him.
"I reviewed and approved the contract after you drafted it. If there's fault, I bear a large part of the responsibility."
"Sabel Kaffi has always been a greedy profiteer. He's been like this since I've known him," Victar said helplessly.
"Shipping across the Narrow Sea has high profits and high risks. That's the reason insurance merchants exist. Captains give up part of their profits to transfer some risk to the merchant, but he's trying to dump the risk back on us."
"The most critical part is demanding we stay out of the insurance business in Braavos!" Zaren, sitting to Arthur's left, habitually rubbed the armrest with his webbed hand.
"If a mercenary company doesn't get its contract pay, what do they do?"
Without waiting for an answer, Zaren answered himself, "They have swords; they take it themselves. Leave this to me, my Lord. I know that fat man. I have plenty of ways to make him cough up our due reward."
"We can..."
Zaren listed several plans, the core of which boiled down to investigating weaknesses, finding leverage, threats, kidnapping, and escalating violence.
Seeing his eagerness to prove himself, Arthur listened patiently before saying:
"Zaren, I don't doubt your ability, but we are in Braavos. We must adapt to Braavosi rules.
"Swords can make people obedient, but we still need to work with him. We can't be too crude."
Arthur beckoned 'Shorty' Weiss to lean in. Weiss was short enough that he didn't even need to bend down. Arthur whispered a few instructions into his ear.
"Yes, my Lord. I will prepare everything as you ordered." Weiss bowed woodenly and left.
"We agreed long ago that Sabel Kaffi is only a temporary partner. Now that he's pulling this stunt, he's erased the last bit of goodwill I had for him." Arthur picked up the new contract drafted by the one-eyed fat man and threw it into the fireplace.
"His goal is obvious. He wants to use this 20,000 Gold Dragons to make us obedient, helping him suppress and integrate other insurance merchants, ultimately monopolizing the insurance market between White Harbor and Braavos."
"His goal is actually what I want too. But he demands we stay out of the insurance business?" Arthur returned to his seat, interlacing his fingers and watching the contract turn to ash.
"I don't like his method. Not at all!"
Monopoly meant huge profits, Arthur knew. And where did those profits come from? Undoubtedly from slicing the cake of the insured captains.
Insurance merchants existed because Narrow Sea trade had high profits and high risks, and captains needed someone to share the risk.
But when a captain's profit margin became too small, was there still a need for insurance merchants?
By then, Arthur could cut out the middleman—the insurance merchant—and deal directly with the captains.
Sabel Kaffi clearly saw the risk, saw through Arthur's intentions, and made his move.
Arthur had to admit, the one-eyed fat man hadn't survived and thrived in Braavos for years for nothing. His ability, intellect, and vision were not to be underestimated.
Thinking of this, Arthur recalled the haggard woman named Fanny and her husband—the captain who took a risk without insurance and was caged until death by the Lord of Pebble.
One sat in Braavos reaping profits rain or shine, mouth greasy with food; the other ran ragged across the Narrow Sea, ending up with a wrecked ship and a lost life.
Arthur unconsciously stroked the hilt of his Valyrian steel sword, 'Zhanlu', thinking, I promised her the head of the Lord of Pebble.
However, during Zaren's journey to Braavos, the preservation of the head wasn't done well. In the damp environment of the Narrow Sea, it had completely rotted. A healer had used maggots to clean the flesh off.
When the head arrived before Arthur, the Lord of Pebble's head was just a clean white skull.
"Vickon, how is Fanny now?" Arthur asked curiously. "After she received the skull."
"She might be dead, my Lord." Vickon swallowed nervously at the mention of Fanny, fear in his eyes.
"After drinking a few cups of sweet wine from the skull, she returned it to me. After that, she went to the House of Black and White. I haven't seen her since."
"I heard the water in the House of Black and White brings painless death," Zaren shrugged. "It's a release for her."
Hearing his eldest son's words, Victar murmured softly, "If she is still alive, I hope she remembers our names."
Arthur heard Victar's murmur and felt a sudden chill. He shuddered involuntarily and changed the subject.
"Pate, what about the Valyrian steel dagger? It's been consigned to the auction house for a while now."
Pate: "Due to its unique shapeshifting property and the fame of Valyrian steel, the response has been very enthusiastic, my Lord.
"Keyholders, courtesans, wealthy merchants, captains, priests of the Moonsingers, and great lords of Westeros have all made bids. Rumor has it even the Sealord has been alerted."
'Ledger' Pate handed a list from his notebook to Arthur.
"But the buyer you wanted, the Faceless Men of the House of Black and White, haven't appeared. This is the list of all bidders and their offered items."
Since Arthur consigned the dagger for barter rather than the highest bid, it had remained on display, accepting offers.
The auction house was happy with this arrangement, displaying it at every auction to draw crowds.
Scanning the list of rare treasures, Arthur clicked his tongue. Poverty truly limited his imagination.
Chests of gold and silver, agate, pearls, and gems were the most standard offers.
There were rare materials rumored to possess magic from Asshai by the Shadow.
Treasure maps and sea charts of the ruins of Valyria and as far as the Jade Sea.
Ocean-going ships, mansions, estates, and even fiefdoms were not few in number.
Among the dazzling catalog, some strange items were mixed in. Arthur spotted one person's identity and offer at a glance.
Identity: Courtesan 'Black Pearl' Bellegere Otherys. Offer: An unforgettable experience of a lifetime.
Good Gods!
Arthur exclaimed internally. Do courtesans play this big?
Since parting at the Moon Pool that day, Arthur and the Black Pearl hadn't met again. They tacitly used each other's fame for traffic.
After that, Arthur had poured his time into forging, sword practice, writing letters, managing businesses, and using [Creation].
Since Zaren left and the war on Pebble began, Arthur had been too busy to eat or drink properly, gaining over ten pounds from stress eating. He certainly hadn't had the chance to visit high-end venues requiring a courtesan's company.
"My Lord? My Lord?"
"Ahem..." Arthur snapped back to reality, coughing awkwardly. Seeing everyone looking at him strangely, he announced:
"Alright, back to work. Zaren, you'll have to work hard recently. Familiarize yourself with the operation of our businesses in Braavos as soon as possible. Ask if you don't understand anything. Don't worry about Sabel Kaffi."
Finally, Arthur declared, "I will take a day to visit him personally. The world isn't just about fighting and killing; it's also about social grace."