Deltarune Shipping Novels & Stories

Another message, this time from an unknown number: [Why is my package delayed? I expect my shipment in two days, or there will be trouble, Alpha Barron.]

The Orion network was already adapting. Within twelve hours of the Rotterdam suspension, freight routes had begun shifting. Cargo that once flowed through the northern corridor was now redirecting toward Antwerp, Genoa, and Trieste. On the surface, the system appeared stable. Shipments continued moving. Ports remained active. Warehouses stayed operational. To outside observers, the disruption looked manageable. But inside De Luca Holdings, everyone understood something different. Marco D’Ambrosio had just run the first test.

Charr said frowning and craning his neck trying to see over the trees without luck. ‘Fafnir, any ideas?’ Rex said. “If memory serves me right, other side of these woods was a river that travelled all the way past Ragnar’s Mountains and through to a river town called Delta. See if you can hear running water or smell it. Same way before, slowly breath and force your ears to listen, your nose should follow suit.’

“Alright, back to it. The port deal—three containers, uncut product, coming in next week. Port authority’s on our payroll, but we’ve got a new customs guy, some prick named Delgado. He’s not bought yet. Any ideas?” Tommy grinned, his knuckles cracking. “Pay him or break him,” he said, his voice rough. “That’s been our rule, boss.” Frankie shook his head, his pen tapping. “Nah, it’s too risky. Delgado’s got legitimate feds watching. We need a front—legit paperwork, shell company, to get that shipment across.” I nodded, my eyes narrowing, my mind half on Ethan, half on the game. “Set up the shell,” I said, my voice firm. “Marco, will handle the paperwork. Frankie, get eyes on Delgado’s routine

“I’m a wildling.” “Ha, course you are.” Then the old man went back to his fellow crew members. Tristan grimaced at the strong scent of the fishes stored inside hundreds of barrels at the center of the deck. It was a cargo ship, heading to deliver all the supplies to the city of Andorhal. Tristan chose this one as it was the only ship that would go to Sunvar City in Drava for its last delivery. However, he would’ve gone straight to Drava if he had caught the cruise ship. He felt so stupid.

Mikal read some reports on his iPad and chose to talk about business to top the conversation about… his family. "ElWagner wouldn't get in the way of shipping if we didn't interfere with their business." Lionel pointed out the line of business that ElWagner Clan shipping goes through, “they control Canada, so almost all of the shipments will be centralized from Canada. We can ship to the United States without going through Canada." Mikael nodded, “Do as you planned. I want you to lead the delivery this time.” "Or if you want something more secure, you can call Rafael Wagner and report our shipment."

Hugo, standing next to Damian, added, "We're dealing with the big guys. If this stuff falls into the wrong hands, we're all finished." The bald man swallowed, then signaled to his men. A thin but sharp-eyed man approached, carrying a tablet. "We have prepared the safest shipping route. Tonight, the ship will depart from the southern port, enter through the rat lines at the border, and reach the owner without interruption." Damian watched the tablet screen carefully. The shipping map looked neat and detailed. There was no room for betrayal, at least so far. "Good," Damian finally said, then looked directly into the man's eyes. "But remember, if there's even the slightest mistake..."