[Current Balance: £709,748,691 3s. 6d.]
---
The Kenway family and their allies followed Alaric down into the earth, their footsteps echoing in the clean, well-lit corridor that led from the mansion's hidden elevator to the underground warehouse.
They had seen the vast, empty chamber before, but they were in for a surprise.
He pushed open the heavy wooden doors, and a collective gasp sucked the air out of the tunnel.
The cavernous space was no longer empty. It was a city of crates, a forest of commerce. Towering, neatly stacked rows stretched into the distance, so far that the lanterns hanging from the high ceiling couldn't illuminate the far walls. The sheer scale of it was breathtaking, a testament to a level of wealth and logistical power that defied comprehension.
"Woah..." Leonard breathed, his usually stoic expression replaced by one of pure, unadulterated shock.
"Lad, what the hell..." Bernard whispered, his eyes wide as he stared at the mountains of inventory. "This is... this is more than all the warehouses in Bristol combined!"
"This is amazing," Flavia murmured, her hand instinctively finding Reuben's.
Kassandra, who had seen the empty space before, was just as astonished as the others. To see it filled, to comprehend the sheer volume of goods Alaric had summoned from nothing… it was a display of power that still managed to surprise her.
"'Laric, lad!" Bernard finally broke from his stupor. He lunged forward, wrapping his arm around Alaric's neck in a rough, playful chokehold, though Alaric, towering over him, didn't even budge. "What's up with your powers, aye!? Did you rob the entire East India Company!?"
Alaric just laughed, easily patting his uncle's arm. "Everyone," he said, his voice cutting through the murmurs of disbelief, "we'll do things differently this time. I've been talking with Penn. I'm going to set up a private bank here in Philadelphia. It will operate like a regular bank, but our Celestial business will be directly connected to it."
He gestured around at the endless rows of crates. "Unlike in Bristol, where buyers had to come to our home for large contracts, this time, they will make their purchases through the bank. That's for the large-scale orders." He paused, a thoughtful look on his face. "We will also set up a store in the city. For smaller purchases, anything below twenty items."
"Hmm... a store?" Linette's brow furrowed, her practical mind immediately engaging. "We were doing perfectly well with contracts in Bristol. Why a store? It seems an unnecessary complication."
Alaric could see the same question reflected in the eyes of the others. "Son," Eleanor added gently, "you know our products are expensive. Take the Celestial Tea for example," she said, her gaze sweeping over a section of crates that seemed to stretch into infinity. "It's five pounds a box. No average individual can afford that, so I don't think a store would be a wise move."
"We barely had any money back then, so I know full well how expensive it is," Alaric smirked, a familiar, confident glint in his eye. "But think about it for a second." He gestured expansively at the warehouse. "Wealthy people from different parts of the world visited Bristol because of our products, didn't they?"
"..." No one spoke, but they nodded in silent agreement, their attention fixed on him.
"After witnessing the life in Bristol, the abundance of cheap, high-quality crops, the accessibility of Celestial products… what happened?"
"..."
"..."
"They migrated to Bristol."
Everyone turned in surprise. It was Aveline who had spoken, her voice clear and certain.
"From the Celestial Tea business alone," she continued, a confident smile on her face as she looked at Caroline, "people from different nations visited our shops constantly. Many conversations happened, and most of them talked about wanting to reside within Bristol because life there was so easy."
"Yes," Alaric nodded, pulling out a cigar and lighting it with a snap of his fingers. "Because wealthy and powerful people came, they also created their own businesses, making the entire city thrive. We will do the same here, but on a much grander scale."
He took a puff from his cigar, his gaze sweeping over his family. "And a special thanks to Penn," he added. "He has granted me ten thousand hectares of land for farming."
"...Ten thousand?"
"Damn... that's a lot."
"Not really," Alaric chuckled. "I mean, Penn initially wanted to grant me four hundred thousand hectares."
"FOUR HUNDRED THOUSAND!?" The exclamation was a unified shout of disbelief.
"Why the hell didn't you take it!?" Bernard demanded.
"If I did, the land wouldn't have been mine," Alaric explained calmly. "It would have been a provincial grant, subject to the whims of future governors. This way, it's private property. And I promised Penn I would produce the same, if not more, crops on ten thousand hectares than a normal farm could on four hundred thousand."
"...Damn, I'm not even going to ask how you're going to do that," Bernard sighed, pulling out his own cigar and lighting it with a match, taking a long, contemplative drag.
"Yep," Alaric chuckled. "Anyway, here."
He handed a ledger to Eleanor. She opened it and passed it around. It was a list, assigning management roles for the new product lines.
Celestial Salve: Linette Kenway
Celestial Tea: Caroline Scott-Kenway
Beauty Mask: Eleanor Kenway
Hot Sauce: Bernard Kenway
Ramen: Leonard Kenway
Premium Cigar: Thulani
Shampoo: Aveline Scott
Liquid Soap: Reuben
Toothpaste: Eleanor Kenway
Toothbrush: Linette Kenway
MRE (Not for Sale): Reuben & Thulani
The moment they saw their names, a new energy filled the room. The shock and awe were replaced by a familiar, determined focus.
They immediately began to move, grabbing the specific inventory ledgers for their assigned products, their minds already buzzing with plans for logistics, storage, and distribution.
Reuben and Thulani, having observed the family's business operations, moved with a quiet confidence, while Aveline, with her own mercantile background, was already discussing potential market strategies with Caroline.
Alaric had already detailed the quantities, but they began their own counts, checking the condition of the crates, organizing their designated sections of the vast warehouse.
"Agápi mou..." Kassandra's voice came from beside him. She had been watching the scene with a quiet, amused smile. "I can work if you like. I don't want to be a dead weight."
"Dead weight?" Alaric's brow rose before he chuckled, turning to wrap an arm around her. "You? A dead weight? My love, you're pregnant."
"But... fine," Kassandra pouted, though her eyes were sparkling. "Once I give birth to our baby, I'll help in any way I can."
"Sure," Alaric smirked slyly. "But you've got to be ready, because we'll be making another one right after."
"M-Maláka, you...!" Kassandra blushed, jabbing him sharply in the arm. She had unknowingly used her full, demigod strength, a blow that would have sent any other man flying.
Alaric just laughed, though he rubbed his arm, a genuine wince in his eyes.
"Hahahahaha..."
'Damn... that actually hurt.'
---
Two months passed, and the calendar turned to March 10th, 1715.
The Kenway estate, now a fully operational and self-sufficient fortress of prosperity, had become the undisputed center of power in the region.
Alaric, never one to let an opportunity lie fallow, had moved with his usual impossible speed.
He purchased a prime six-thousand-square-meter lot in the busiest district of Philadelphia from Penn for a price of £800… a sum Penn had named with a joking, extortionist glint in his eye, only to be met with Alaric's unconcerned agreement.
[Money Withdrawal: £800]
[Current Balance: £709,747,891 3s. 6d.]
To the public, the construction of the grand "Celestial Bank" was a marvel of efficiency, a project that employed hundreds of skilled laborers working day and night. In reality, the workforce was composed almost entirely of Alaric's durable, tireless shadow clones, allowing the massive, cannon-proof structure to rise in a fraction of the expected time.
Next to the bank, the equally impressive "Celestial Mall" took shape, its aesthetic a strange and beautiful blend of European grandeur and a clean, modern simplicity only Alaric could have envisioned. He had even, in a fit of ambitious foresight, designed and created the world's first fuinjutsu-powered ATM machines and credit cards, laying the groundwork for a future of cashless transactions that no one else could yet comprehend.
The ten thousand hectares of farmland granted to him were now a miracle of agriculture. Thanks to his Mokuton and a complex network of growth-enhancing seals, the fields produced year-round, yielding fifty times the normal harvest. He'd hired over five hundred African workers, including the former slaves Thulani had brought, offering them an unheard-of annual salary of £100 and building them their own comfortable village on the estate grounds. Under Thulani's fair but firm management, the farms became the breadbasket of their growing nation.
The alliance with New Spain had also been solidified. Thirty galleons arrived in February, and the promised aid was delivered. Penn, using a fuinjutsu-powered credit card that Alaric had gifted him (with a £200,000 credit limit), "borrowed" two hundred gold bars from the Celestial Bank's vault to add to the relief effort, with Alaric gifting another five hundred on top of that. The Viceroy's grateful reply promised unwavering support.
Shakoka had also returned from his mission to the Iroquois, his report grim. The disease was as widespread as feared. He had been shunned, his own people too lost in fear and tradition to listen. He refused Alaric's offer to heal them, a cold anger in his eyes. "I am lucky they cast me out," he had said. "This is my home now. My paradise."
Alaric, seeing the deep-seated hatred for his former tribe's leadership, had counseled patience, reminding him that true strength lay not in vengeance, but in choice.
The great dining hall of Kenway Keep was filled with the warm glow of candlelight and the low hum of quiet conversation. Alaric sat beside Kassandra, a rare feeling of peace settling over him as he enjoyed the delicious meal the chefs had prepared. One by one, the family had gathered, their day's work done.
They were about to begin eating when Bernard and Linette bowed their heads, their hands clasped in a silent prayer. A quiet, respectful hush fell over the table as everyone else followed their lead. When they finished, Linette looked up, a sad, gentle smile on her face.
"It's Edward's twenty-second birthday today," she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "I was just praying for his safety, wherever he may be."
The name hung in the air, a ghost at their feast. The atmosphere instantly turned somber. Caroline, who had been laughing with Aveline a moment before, looked down at her plate, her own smile vanishing. She felt the weight of every gaze turn to her and forced a weak, sad smile. "What's wrong, everyone? Please, eat… the food will get cold."
Reuben, seated across from her, saw the unshed tears glistening in her eyes. He caught Alaric's gaze, then Thulani's, a silent, urgent message passing between them.
'Laric, go get Edward.'
'Yes, you should get him…'
Alaric sighed internally, pointedly taking a large bite of his roasted duck. He was enjoying his meal, enjoying this rare moment of peace with his family. He didn't want to leave.
But then, his eyes met his aunt Linette's across the long table. Her expression wasn't demanding or angry. It was a simple, quiet, heartbreaking plea. A mother's silent prayer, directed not to God, but to him.
'Ah, fuck,' Alaric thought, setting down his fork with a soft clink. 'I know where this is going.'
.
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