Cassius looked down at him.

"It won't happen again."

"Emissary of the Church of Waukeen, remember, put away your shady tricks. I am not one of those human lords who are easily deceived."

"It's Your Majesty."

Sherwin still answered a little awkwardly.

Thus, Cassius easily took the initiative in the discourse and guided the future direction of this cooperation.

"The Empire has drawn up a comprehensive cooperation plan that will allow both parties to achieve a win-win situation."

Cassius said so.

However, he had lost interest in this envoy from the Church of Woking and felt a little impatient - the greedy businessman was really boring.

Then, the red dragon lazily lay back on the iron throne again and winked at Trump who was standing beside him.

Trump immediately understood what he meant. He took out a thick stack of plans and a parchment contract from his arms.

"The Empire and the Church of Woking will cooperate on the basis of equality and friendship, and abide by the business principles of honesty, trustworthiness, equality, mutual benefit and common development."

Xue Erwen listened for a long time with his ears perked up, but it was all useless nonsense. His ears were almost callused. However, in the end, he still found the key points in the long speech.

"The Empire has a large number of goods that can be dumped, and the Church of Woking has temples all over the continent of Fianso. The two sides complement each other's strengths and have a full basis for cooperation and common interests."

"The Empire will join hands with the Waukeen Church to establish the 'Imperial Southern Continent Company'. The Burning Empire will provide goods and commodities, and the Waukeen Church will provide sales channels and trade transit stations."

"In this cooperation, the Church of Woking will receive a certain commission share, while the Empire must take the leading position."

Xue Erwen frowned slightly and asked, "Trade Cooperation Company? Do you want to sell goods to the south?"

"Yes."

Trump nodded in response.

However, he had already seen the doubt in Xueerwen's eyes, but he did not show it because of the presence of the Red Dragon.

Xueerwen's doubts were indeed justifiable - the Great Wasteland of Anzeta was remote and desolate, and had been devastated by magic for many years, while the south was rich and colorful, and much more prosperous than here.

How can Anzeta’s products be sold in the south?
Trump tapped the ground with his staff, and accompanied by a ripple in space, he took out something from the void.

Xue Erwen adjusted his nose glasses and saw clearly that it was a wool sweater - there was no sign of enchantment, it was just a piece of clothing woven from the most ordinary wool yarn, and even the craftsmanship was not exquisite.

"How could this unsophisticated Anzeta barbarian actually treat this kind of thing as a treasure?"

The follower of Woking thought with disdain in his heart, but because of the red dragon, he still hid his contempt deep in his heart.

Trump smiled and said, "Please guess - how much does it cost?"

"20 silver coins?"

Sherwin answered nonchalantly.

As a follower of Woking, Shelwyn knew the prices of various commodities very well, and he was confident that he would never make a mistake.

But Trump just shook his head.

"15 silver coins?"

"10 silver coins?"

Xue Erwen finally put away the contempt in his heart, his eyes full of disbelief.

10 silver coins, this is already the wholesale price in a famous textile city in the south. There is no lower price than this in any other part of the continent of Feiansuo. If it is any lower, it will be a loss.

Trump simply stretched out five thick fingers and shook them in the air.

"This, this is impossible!"

Xue Erwen couldn't help but exclaimed.

Trump said calmly:
"Nothing is impossible. The price of an imperial wool sweater is only five silver coins, and there is even room for further decline."

"And with the current production capacity of the empire, if there is sufficient raw material, we can produce seven million such sweaters a year. After the industrial construction in various places is completed, this number is expected to increase by at least ten times."

"You, how did you do it?"

Xue Erwen's face was full of shock.

He knew very well that the most important thing in the production of these wool sweaters was not the wool, but the skilled craftsmen who made money by weaving wool. However, the price of the Empire's goods was extremely low, and the output was so huge that he could not figure out how it was done.

magic?

impossible.

The cost of magic is much higher than hiring a craftsman.

Even though Southern magic is popular in the world and people are no longer surprised by magic, it still cannot serve the general public.

But even the most skilled craftsmen can only knit three or four woolen sweaters a day.

Could it be that the Burning Empire captured hundreds of thousands of craftsmen and forced them to work day and night?
This idea popped up in Xue Erwen's mind, which seemed extremely absurd to him.

Trump threw the sweater to the ground and said in a calm tone:

"You don't need to know how the Empire did it."

"You just need to help us sell these goods and make money from them. This is very easy for you, the Church of Woking. This is your profession, isn't it?"

"Of course."

A greedy light suddenly flashed in Xue Erwen's eyes, as if he saw a mountain of gold.

The interests involved are too huge.

If the prices of goods from the Burning Empire were really so low, then if they were sold to the south, they would definitely be snapped up by people.

And if it is true as Trump said that the empire's production capacity can reach such a terrifying scale, then their wool sweaters will flood the market and will definitely cause the wool workshops on the continent to go bankrupt - but at the same time, the annual trade will generate millions of gold coins in profits.

With so many gold coins, even if just a little bit flowed out from between his fingers, it would be enough for him to live a life of luxury.

"Who is your chief executive?"

Trump's voice interrupted Sherwin's fantasy of piles of gold coins.

"It is, it is me, sir."

Xue Erwen's voice trembled, just because of excitement and excitement.

Trump waved his hand and said disdainfully: "I am talking about the general leader of your Waukeen Church, not this diplomatic mission. You are not qualified to sign a contract with me and decide the direction of future cooperation."

"Your Excellency, it is the Tiona Ludwig Saint Coin."

Xue Erwen then calmed down and realized that he was just a messenger and could not decide such a big matter.

He hasn't let the gold go to his head yet.

The Woking faith across the entire continent of Feansor is a unified system led by an archbishop known as "Holy Coin".

The current Bishop of the Holy Coin and the Goddess's Advocate, Tiona Ludwig, works hard to consolidate the faith of Woking at the Golden Tower, a huge cathedral overlooking the Free Trade Federation.

A confident smile appeared on Trump's ugly face.

"Well, go back and tell her that here is a business order worth tens of millions of gold coins. Ask her if she wants to sign it."

"Yes, my lord."

Xue Erwen suppressed his excitement and bowed with great respect.

That's the charm of gold.

A great and infamous collaboration is about to begin, which will bring the glory of free trade but also the bankruptcy of countless people.

After the envoys from the Church of Woking left hastily, another brief conversation took place in the empty palace.

"Trump, you should know what I want."

"Of course, Master. These mercenary followers of Waukeen must not be trusted. Their greed is insatiable."

"We just want to take advantage of their power in the South"

"Once the company has established a firm foothold in the south, we will kick them out and replace all the employees with our own people."

"Very good, you understand."

When the ogre angrily denounced the greed and abomination of the Church of Waukeen, he did not realize that he was the most greedy and stingy one, not even willing to share a mouthful of soup with outsiders. (End of this chapter)