Lich for Hire

Chapter 239: Flynn at Rock Bottom

Gustavo Flynn viciously lashed his servant.

The man had been responsible for sending out the invitations, including Isabel's, and yet he hadn't even informed Flynn of her address.

Of course, it wasn't really his fault. There had been so many invitations, and Flynn had never cared where any of the recipients lived.

This beating wasn't reasonable. It was simply because his master was in a foul mood.

Even knowing he was innocent, the servant could only cry out in apology, hoping to earn forgiveness.

Flynn didn't stop until he was drenched in sweat. He finally lowered his whip.

"Prepare the carriage. Then get out of my sight and tend to your wounds."

If his opponent was that lich, then there was no room for negotiation.

Flynn knew him too well. Even the Prince of Lies himself wouldn't be able to talk that old monster into changing his mind.

The moment the carriage was ready, Flynn climbed in impatiently."Where to, sir?" the driver asked.

Flynn's voice was dark and heavy. "To the Goblin Bank."

Because the Dwarven Kingdom upheld a policy of racial equality, many races that would be hunted as monsters elsewhere could live here. Even goblins were allowed to settle within its borders.

The Goblin Bank was a financial institution unique to the Dwarven Kingdom.

Most goblins were filthy, savage, and bloodthirsty creatures, but among them existed rare elites of extraordinary intelligence who were particularly gifted in mathematics. These exceptional few had mastered finance, and by leveraging the Dwarven Kingdom's vast reserves of gold, they had reaped enormous profits from other nations during times of peace.

They were also tactful. Each year, they offered the Dwarven Kingdom generous returns. The dwarves didn't lack for gold, so the goblins scoured the continent for rare treasures to present in tribute.

As a result, the Goblin Bank operated almost like a semi-official institution and enjoyed a solid reputation within the kingdom.

If he had any other choice, Flynn would never deal with goblins. No matter how intelligent they were, their greedy and sinister nature remained. They were worse than vampires when it came to draining others dry.

But he had no alternative. To win over Ambrose, the only way forward was gold, and not a small amount, either. That lich's appetite might well surpass all goblins' combined.

Flynn's wealth had long since been depleted. The only way left to raise funds was through loans.

He was confident that he could secure what he needed, at least. As a legendary alchemist, all he needed was to put up a few patented formulas as collateral, and he should be able to gain a massive sum.

And once he became chairman, everything would quickly fall into place.

However, when he met the goblin banker, who was wearing gold-rimmed half-moon glasses, the reply he received filled him with rage.

Flynn fixed the goblin with a sharp glare. "One million gold coins? Should I take this as an insult from your bank?"

The wrinkled, green-skinned goblin seemed long accustomed to such outbursts. He calmly removed his glasses, wiped away the spittle that had landed on them, and only then replied, "Master Flynn, according to our information, you currently owe several nobles a considerable sum—six to seven million gold in total. Is that correct?"

Flynn sneered. "You think I can't repay such a trivial amount?"

The goblin adjusted his glasses and said seriously, "Certainly we would have no such doubts in the past. But the past is not the present. Not only are you in debt, you haven't used those funds to rebuild your alchemical laboratory. Instead, you've poured everything into the election for the Alchemists' Council."

"You've done your homework," Flynn said coldly.

"Of course. In our line of work, we must stay informed about the movements of influential figures. Forgive my bluntness, but you've placed all your bets on this election. If you fail, can you truly bear the consequences?"

"I won't lose," Flynn replied with absolute confidence.

The goblin chuckled. "You are among the most brilliant minds in the world, Master Flynn, but I am no fool either. Your opponent is the royal court alchemist. In terms of background and standing, he holds the advantage.

"In our bank's assessment, the probability of your defeat is quite high. And if you fail… what then?" The goblin leaned back slightly, his fingers interlaced. "Allow me to speculate. You would not accept living under Master Beck's shadow. Most likely, you would leave and start anew elsewhere. In that case… would you allow outstanding debts to delay your departure?"

The implication was clear. If Flynn lost, he would flee, leaving the Dwarven Kingdom's sphere of influence entirely. And those millions in debt? He would simply abandon them. The minor nobles whom he owed had no means of pursuing him across borders.

Because of this risk, the Goblin Bank had assigned him an extremely low credit rating. An offer of one million gold was already generous, granted solely out of respect for his status as a legendary alchemist. Otherwise, he wouldn't have received a single coin.

Flynn didn't even bother denying it. Instead, he countered, "And have you calculated the returns if I succeed?"

The goblin smiled faintly. "Our bank has many profitable ventures, all with relatively low risk. There is no need to gamble on something like this. You understand that our funds belong to our depositors. We must act in their best interests."

Flynn rose to his feet, towering over the goblin. "So you're saying there's nothing to discuss?"

"Not at all," the goblin replied with a polite smile. "Your value is undeniable, Master Flynn. The issue is simply that we lack sufficient guarantees. If you can provide adequate collateral, any amount can be negotiated."

"I can offer several of my formulas as collateral."

The goblin shook his head. "Formulas accessible only to legends are of no use to us. And as you know, the Dwarven Kingdom's regulations on alchemical patents are extremely lax. This is no longer a land ruled by alchemists."

Flynn clenched his teeth. That was precisely why he had to rebuild the Alchemists' Council.

The Dwarven Kingdom didn't merely have lax patent laws—it effectively had none at all.

Across the continent, only Alkhemia and the Court of the Silver Moon had ever enforced patent protections. Even the Lyon Empire merely offered rewards for new discoveries, rather than granting lifelong exclusive rights.

Here in the Dwarven Kingdom, there was no such thing as copyright. Any and all functional potions could be sold freely without regard to questions of intellectual property.

The situation had arisen for historical reasons. Alkhemia had once monopolized the bulk of alchemical patents, and other nations had been forced either to pay exorbitant sums annually for genuine products or resort to piracy.

Those costs had been so high that even the Dwarven Kingdom balked. Most nations ended up relying heavily on counterfeit potions, occasionally purchasing originals just to reverse-engineer them. Alkhemia's technical superiority had once made imitation difficult—sometimes even more expensive than the original—forcing others to buy authentic goods.

But Alkhemia was gone. When the dwarves seized this land, they showed little mercy. Many alchemical workshops were forcibly acquired, and countless formulas fell into their hands.

Under such circumstances, using formulas as collateral was meaningless. Without legal protection, a formula was nothing more than a piece of paper. The moment it was copied, it lost all value.

Every goblin employee in the bank would copy them without hesitation and sell them off. Within days, the priced recipes would be common knowledge.

This wasn't a flaw in the bank, but was simply how the law worked. Patent theft wasn't illegal here. As long as the original document remained in the bank's possession, copying it wasn't considered stealing.

If privacy laws didn't exist, the goblins would just as readily sell their clients' financial information. The only reason they didn't was because too many powerful figures held accounts there, so confidentiality was strictly protected by law.

Formulas, however, had no such protection, which meant that Flynn had nothing left to offer.

"In that case, let's not waste each other's time."

He turned to leave, but the goblin called out to him again. "Master Flynn, there's no need to be so hasty. Ordinary formulas may be worthless, but some knowledge is exceedingly valuable. We are aware that you possess something of great worth. If you are willing to provide it, we can offer an interest-free loan of one hundred million gold."

A bad feeling crept over Flynn. "What are you referring to?"

The goblin smiled. "The truth behind Alkhemia's disappearance. That magic array buried beneath the sewers… surely you understand it very well, do you not?"

Flynn frowned. "How do you know about that?"

The goblin chuckled. "The Dwarf Kingdom has its own diviners. While they cannot rival the legendary prophets of old in foretelling the future, uncovering the past is quite simple. Our bank is very interested in your project of apotheosis."

Flynn stared at him coldly. "This isn't something an ordinary banker would know about. Who exactly are you?"

The goblin adjusted his glasses and replied slowly, "I am the president of this bank, Donald Grandet. Master Flynn, we are sincere in our desire to work with you. What say you?"