Terran Trade Authority の小説・ストーリー

The Cheytac was a relic from the past. His great, great, grandfather was a sniper of the last World War; back when the entire Sandalo clan lived through the hardships and terrors in the last days of humanity's dying home world, Earth. He was one of the few millions who survived and was handpicked, together with his family, by the USEAN (Union of Southeast Asian Nations) government for relocation to Tau Ceti. The government, grateful for his service, let him keep his issued rifle, the Cheytac.

He carried power, not only raw physical dominance like an Alpha, but this cold calculated kind of authority too, like a billionaire CEO handling an entire continent’s wealth without flinching. "The Southern Packs have agreed to the new trade routes," Dante said, his deep voice a smooth rumble, as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and walked toward me. "And the Riverland agricultural yield is up forty percent. We have enough surplus to feed the entire eastern seaboard, through the winter." "You’re getting entirely too good at this boardroom warfare, King Dante," I teased, turning away from the window to wrap my arms around his neck. Dante’s golden eyes softened instantly. He pulled me flush again

I said. "The northern territories," Martin said. "All of them. Mining rights, trade routes, port authority, governance. Signed over to me in perpetuity, effective immediately." "Done." Martin blinked. He had expected negotiation. He had expected me to calculate the cost, weigh the political implications, consider the impact on my kingdom's economy and military standing. He had prepared arguments and counterarguments and escalating demands, and I had bypassed all of them with a single word. "Done," I repeated. "Release them."

Garrett said with a slight smile. “That, and because I actually want this to work. The Northern region needs new blood and new thinking. You’re providing both,” Theron agreed. They worked through the details for another hour, hammering out agreements on trade, resource allocation, dispute resolution, and the dozen other practical matters that came with establishing a new territory. Nyx watched Garrett negotiate with the same careful intelligence he’d shown when offering her the emerald crest, and she felt through the bond that Theron was thinking the same thing she was: the rogues were going to be fine.

Today, as per agreed, the first batch of Aeternum resource Ministry, Trading Department will made land in all 4 of the city, and started the buying of all all the Settlement stockpiled foods. Whilst it was only initially aimed to bought all the stockpiled foods of the settlements, there is a secret mission for all the Trading Department, which is to be ‘forced’ by the situations to actually become the traders for the entire settlements in order to calm the situations thanks to the sudden crisis. Aeternum who will be asked to take a step forward, have to reluctantly do something more than what is agreed upon. Thus establishing a more magnificent reputations throughout the entire wasteland. Th

Suddenly I heard the foot steps come to a stop and I just couldn't hold it any longer, I started blabbing " please just let me go, I wouldn't even taste good, am very skinny and your gods wouldn't even like me, and if you want to sell my organs, let me inform you that my organs wouldn't even work fine without me, the moment you kill me my organs stop, so please just let me go. I finished, I just hope they listen to me, my breathing came out heavy as I just said those words with so much speed, I don't think I've ever talked that fast.

But this is how negotiations are done anyway and I know I won't fail. I nod, “Agreed.” Tieran gets up and stretches an arm out to me. I take it and I can't help but notice how firm his grip is. Almost like the times I went over to his office to negotiate a trade deal with him on Malachi’s behalf, we close it up with a handshake, and Tieran stares thoughtfully into my eyes as he does. I stare back at him, and though I can see he wants to ask questions, he nods as a glimmer passes through the clear glass-like surface of his eyes and he turns to make his exit…

“Are you paying attention?” It takes me a minute to realize she's talking to me. Raya….my new name. I blink and straighten in my chair. “Yes, of course.” She narrows her eyes. “Then tell me—the third treaty signed by the founding alphas of the Western Territories. What was its purpose?” I hesitate. “To… establish trade routes?”