Man With Super Medical Skill (Matthew)

"C'mon, Mr. Jardine, you can't actually be serious," Maurice grumbled with a helpless smile as he dodged around the room, his slightly chubby frame moving with surprising agility. Matthew Larson sat nearby, watching the scene with a suppressed grin. It was hard not to laugh, but with everyone present being older than him-none under forty-he held it in. "Hahaha, Jerome, what did I tell you? Mr. Jardine's already going after Maurice with his belt as soon we walk in."

"Huh, Maurice is such a disgrace."

Two more middle-aged men entered the room. One wore square-framed glasses and had a gentle expression, while the other crossed his arms, his sharp gaze full of exasperation as he looked at Maurice.

"Matthew, no need to be so formal. These guys never put on airs," Mortimer said, patting Matthew's shoulder, noticing how the young man was sitting upright, brewing tea.

"It's fine. I actually like this atmosphere at least there's none of that backstabbing or scheming," Matthew replied, a genuine smile touching his lips, the camaraderie in the room reminding him of the good times he shared with Sasha. "Sasha, where did you go..." he silently wondered to himself.

Finally, all eighteen guests had arrived. They were the heads of various corporations and families from Southaven. While none were top-tier, each could still bring over a billion Dornian Emeralds to the table. Combined, they had a total of 200 million, more than enough to support Matthew's plan to buy up Montirian Ducats at this stage. "Gentlemen-"

"Mr. Larson!"

Just as Matthew stood and began to speak, the door to the reception room burst open. Solon, who had been missing for four whole days, appeared in the doorway, looking travel-worn.

"Solon, where have you been these past few days?"

Solon flashed a mysterious smile, walked in, and shut the door behind him. He plopped down on a nearby couch, a smug expression on his face as he waved Matthew to continue. "Please continue."

Matthew frowned slightly, but seeing

the exhaustion in Solon's eyes and the dust on his clothes, a thought crossed his mind. However, he didn't pursue the matter and instead resumed speaking. "Gentlemen, it's an honor to have you all here today."

The wealthy merchants seated on the couches responded with smiles and light-hearted comments.

"Mr. Summit Warden, there's no need for such formality. After all, we stand to profit from this as well."

"If you really want to thank us, Mr. Larson, how about making a special hair tonic for me afterward?" Maurice joked, rubbing his balding head as he stared at the few strands of hair in his hand, sinking into a brief moment of despair.

"All I ask is that you convince Zedler to bring out that fine vintage he's been hoarding. That would satisfy me."

Seeing the camaraderie and good spirits around him, Matthew couldn't help but smile as well. It was clear that they were trying to lighten the mood.

"Alright, Mr. Lorenz, I'll make sure to remember the hair tonic, and as for Old Mr. Zedler's wine, I'm not sure I can get my hands on it, but I do have a private stash," Matthew said, his tone growing more serious as he shifted to the main topic. "According to our sources within Montiria, the Dornian trade delegation has officially prepared a little over two billion in funding, which is similar to what we've gathered. However, we know those financial bigwigs would never reveal the true extent of their resources. Based on my estimates, their combined assets in Montirian Ducats won't be less than 1.5 billion, and their Dornian Emeralds won't be less than 1.8 billion."

As Matthew laid out the intelligence he had gathered on the Dornian trade delegation, the previously relaxed merchants grew somber, the gravity of the situation sinking in.