Man With Super Medical Skill (Matthew)

Beneath the scarf, Garrett's expression darkened. If the royal physician really removed his scarf for an examination, there was a good chance he wouldn't leave the palace alive.

"Your Majesty, I must confess, I was born with an unsightly appearance. These symptoms will pass in a few days; there's no need to trouble the physician," Garrett replied through gritted teeth, failing to notice the smile on Gadel's face behind the imperial crown. "In that case, I won't press the matter. Now, which industry do you gentlemen plan to invest in?" Gadel smoothly shifted the conversation back to business, much to the relief of the financial titans gathered below.

"Since our meeting is concluded, you may all return. I'm feeling a bit tired," Gadel waved them off, eager to see what these men would do next.

"We take our leave."

As they exited the palace, these normally haughty financial titans finally allowed themselves to relax.

"Prince Garrett, time is of the essence. When can we begin the plan?" one of them asked, still sweating from the tension.

Garrett checked his phone, a smile forming on his face. "It's already begun..."

In an antique street in Everton, the curtain of a pawnshop was pushed aside. Sunlight filtered through the gaps, casting beams of light into the dim interior. A shifty-looking, scrawny man carrying a bundle stepped inside and quietly asked the clerk, "Excuse me, is your boss in?" "Boss, someone's looking for you!" the clerk shouted toward the back before returning to his work.

A middle-aged man radiating shrewdness emerged from the back of the shop and greeted the newcomer with a respectful nod. "What can I do for you, sir?"

The shifty man didn't waste any time, cutting straight to the chase. "Boss, do you have any Dornian Emeralds?"

The shrewd shopkeeper was momentarily taken aback. Dornian Emeralds? Don't people usually go to the bank for that and not a small pawnshop?

Still, he replied, "Of course we do. Whatever you need, we have it."

"Good. I want to exchange for ten thousand Donian Emeralds!" The shifty man pulled out 365 thousand Montiria Ducats from his bundle, a sum that included a generous markup over the usual exchange rate of 1:3.5, meant as a tip for the shopkeeper.

"Jet, go fetch the money for our esteemed guest and bring out my finest tea while you're at it," the shopkeeper called to his clerk, recognizing that this man's eagerness likely signaled a shift in the market.

"Sir, please have a seat and enjoy some tea while you wait," the shopkeeper said, as the clerk soon returned with a teapot and a stack of Dornian Emeralds.

The shopkeeper, all smiles, handed the emeralds to the shifty-eyed man and pushed back the excess 150 thousand Montirian Ducats. "Sir, I can tell you're no ordinary man. Consider this a gesture of friendship."

The shifty man smiled, appreciating the boss' warmth. "You're too kind."

"Pardon my curiosity, sir, but what's the reason for exchanging so many Dornian Emeralds?"

The shifty man's smile faded, replaced by a look of hesitation.

Seeing his reluctance, the boss took another 50 thousand Montirian Ducats from the stack and placed them in the man's hand.

"Boss, I feel a connection with you.

The Montirian Ducat is about to plummet in value. You should exchange them for Dornian

Emeralds as quickly as possibu net

shifty man said, grabbed his bag,

the

and hurried out the door, clearly in a rush.

The shopkeeper sat back in his chair, his expression grave as he contemplated the news. Finally, he made up his mind. "Jet, take all our Montirian Ducats and exchange them at other pawnshops. Convert every last one into Dornian Emeralds!"