The Almighty Dominance (by Sunshine) novel Chapter 630

The crowd froze, a hundred faces locked in horror. Blood pooled across the stones, dark and spreading, the metallic stink thick enough to taste.

The big mercenary’s halves lay there like discarded meat—upper body face-down in its own mess, lower half still twitching. No one breathed. No one dared move.

Then the screaming started.

A woman dropped to her knees, hands clamped over her mouth. Merchants who had swaggered forward moments earlier stumbled backward, shoulders bumping, eyes wide with animal fear.

The bamboo rod in Alex’s hand looked almost harmless again—slender, innocent wood—but every soul in the courtyard now knew better.

Alex lowered it slowly, voice calm as morning mist. “One hit. That’s all it took. Anyone else want to test the other nine?”

Silence crashed down harder than the roar of protest ever had.

A thin merchant near the front—silk robes trembling—dropped his debt paper like it burned his fingers. “I… I’ll take the band-aid,” he stammered. “Please. That thing. It drives away sickness, right? Keeps a man strong? I love it. Been meaning to try one anyway.”

Heads bobbed frantically around him.

“Yes—yes, same here,” another merchant blurted, stepping forward so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. “Health first, that’s what matters. Band-aid for me. Right now.”

The women who had spat accusations only minutes ago now smiled with desperate sweetness, voices shaking. “It’ll wash away bad luck, won’t it, Lord Bai? I always wanted one. Always.”

They lied through their teeth, eyes darting to the bloody mess on the ground. Merchants who would have sold their mothers for gold now clawed at the servants for the small adhesive patches like starving men reaching for bread.

No one mentioned control. No one mentioned spies.

They simply bared their necks and slapped the Gaia band-aids on with trembling fingers, murmuring thanks as if the device were a blessing from heaven itself.

Alex watched it all without expression. Servants moved through the crowd like ghosts, handing out the ordinary band-aids and the strengthening pills that came with them.

Every neck received one. Every hand swallowed one. The courtyard filled with the soft sounds of agreement, of relief, of lies told so convincingly even the liars almost believed them.

When the last band-aid had been pressed into place, the merchants found their courage again.

One of the bolder ones cleared his throat, voice slick with sudden hope. “Lord Bai… about the payment. You won’t go back on your word, will you? You’re the City Lord now.”

They were merchants to the bone—birds that would die for a single grain of rice, men who would risk death for a single gold coin. Fear had bent them; greed straightened them right back up.

Alex turned toward the two heavy tables the servants had dragged into the center of the courtyard. Debt papers lay scattered across them—yellowed scrolls and ink-stained contracts signed by a man who no longer existed.

“Pay them,” he said.

Zhuge Liang’s head snapped toward him. “My lord?”

“Every last copper,” Alex continued, his voice carrying across the silent yard. “Double, triple—whatever I promised them back then. Honor it exactly. These good people have waited long enough.”

With a casual flick of his wrist, he summoned several ornate wooden boxes from his storage ring. They materialized on the table with solid thuds, heavy with gold.

The merchants’ faces lit up like lanterns. Greedy smiles spread fast. A few exchanged quick glances, already regretting they had only demanded double. They could have pushed for triple from the start.

Then a woman stepped forward—the same one who had accused him of sleeping with her—voice sweet but bold. “Lord Bai, my memory must be failing me. I wrote ‘double’ on my contract, but it was supposed to be triple. I made a mistake when I wrote it that night.”

“Do they really think it’s that easy?” Alex said softly, almost to himself. “I was nothing when I made those promises. A drunk, a fool, handing out dreams like cheap wine. They took the chance. Fine. But now I’m City Lord Bai Xaichun. And they still thought they could bully me? Walk into my house, demand my gold, threaten my estate?” His voice dropped to a blade’s edge. “Your greatest mistake wasn’t bullying me. It was bullying the City Lord. Did you honestly believe I would simply let you go?”

Zhuge Liang studied him, careful. “What do you command?”

Alex turned, eyes sharp with cold amusement. “Zhuge Liang, tomorrow I want you to launch a full inspection on every single person who stood here today. Their businesses. Their merchant houses. Their families. Their tax records. Every ledger, every warehouse, every hidden coin. I don’t believe for a second they’re clean. Not one of them. Find the dirt. Use it.”

“Double?” Zhuge Liang asked, the word slipping out before he could stop it. His voice carried the first real note of shock Alex had heard from him all morning.

Alex smiled—slow, satisfied, the kind of smile that promised winter.

“Yes,” he said. “You’re going to take back double everything I just gave them. Every last coin. With interest. And when we’re finished, they’ll thank us for the privilege.”

Zhuge Liang held his gaze for a long moment, then inclined his head once, the strategist’s calm mask sliding perfectly back into place. “As you command, City Lord.”

As he turned to issue orders to the servants, a quiet chill settled in his chest. These greedy merchants who had just pushed for triple would soon pay double—and more—for their own audacity. He couldn’t help but think that his new City Lord was far more ruthless than anyone had first imagined.

Alex stood motionless in the center of the courtyard, hands clasped behind his back, watching the last of the smiling merchants bow deeply before they hurried out with their heavy purses of gold.

Back on Estoria, he had been a wise king who always tried to behave like a true gentleman. But here—in this world—he wasn’t using his real name. Hell, he wasn’t even wearing his real face.

He had nothing left to fear by getting his hands dirty.

A slow, sharp smile curved his lips.

This was going to be fun.