Chapter 110 The Broker
LORD VERMITHRAX
I watch the Rookeries battle from three miles away. Excellent view. Binoculars provide detail. Magical scrying shows energy flows.
Dragons don't pick sides in wolf-vampire conflicts. We observe. We profit. We wait.
My subordinate approaches. "Sir, the battle's been ongoing for two hours. Casualty estimates?"
"Over a hundred dead. Roughly equal losses both sides." I adjust the scrying mirror. "Wolves are dying slightly faster but not significantly."
"Do we intervene?"
"No. Let them bleed. We profit more from their weakness."
"How?"
I smile. Pull out property deeds. "The Rookeries district. Forty buildings. Three hundred apartments. Warehouses. Businesses. All currently owned by packless wolves or sympathetic humans."
"Who are dying on the battlefield."
"Exactly. As they die, ownership becomes uncertain. Estates go to probate. Properties become available." I start signing foreclosure documents. "We've been buying the mortgages for months. Below market value. Now we call them due."
"But the owners are fighting. Can't pay during battle."
"Precisely. We foreclose for non-payment. Take ownership. Legal. Clean. Profitable."
My subordinate understands now. "You're stealing their homes while they fight for their lives."
"Not stealing. Acquiring. Through legitimate financial instruments. The owners signed contracts. Made debts. Failed to pay. Consequences ensue."
"It's monstrous."
"It's economics." I sign another foreclosure. "If Parliament wins, we own the battlefield. Victory spoils. If wolves win, they're homeless anyway. We offer to sell back their properties at premium prices. Either way, we profit."
"What about the ones who die?"
"Their properties go to next of kin or estate. We file claims. Contest ownership. Tie up legal proceedings for years. Eventually acquire through attrition."
I'm signing documents as fast as assistants can provide them. Foreclosing on every Rookeries property with outstanding debt.
Forty buildings. Thousands of people's homes. Decades of community building.
All becoming dragon property in one afternoon.
"This is why dragons stay neutral," I explain. "War creates opportunities. Winners and losers both become indebted. We step in. Provide financing. Acquire assets. Profit regardless of outcome."
"What about ethics?"
"Ethics don't pay for gold hoards." I finish the last foreclosure. "We offered these wolves legitimate loans. Terms were clear. Payments were required. They failed to pay. Natural consequences."
"They're dying."
"Which makes debt collection easier." I pull out acquisition offers. "Now we move to phase two. Buying properties whose owners haven't died yet but are distracted."
My subordinates start making calls. Offering to buy Rookeries properties. Below market value. Immediate cash. Today only.
Some owners accept. Desperate for money. Thinking they'll use funds to evacuate. To escape. To survive.
They're selling their future for temporary relief.
Stupid. But profitable for me.
Within an hour, we've acquired thirty-seven of forty Rookeries buildings. Three million pounds in total. Worth ten million at market value.
Excellent return.
"Regardless of outcome, we own the battlefield by sunset," I tell my subordinate. "Begin acquisition of adjacent properties. This district will be entirely dragon-controlled within the week."
"And the wolves? If they survive?"
"They'll be refugees. Homeless. Desperate. We'll offer housing. At premium rates. Extractive rents. Permanent debt servitude." I close the property files. "They fought for their community. We'll own what they fought for. Ironic."
The battle continues in the distance. People dying. Blood flowing. Chaos and violence.
I watch with detachment. Each death is inventory adjustment. Each casualty is market shift. Each corpse is depreciating asset.
Cold? Perhaps.
Profitable? Absolutely.
That's why dragons survive millennia. We don't get attached. Don't pick sides. Don't care about justice or mercy or community.
We calculate. We profit. We endure.
Let wolves and vampires kill each other over principles and politics. I'll be here. Buying their assets. Acquiring their wealth. Profiting from their passion.
"Sir, the Hermetic Order is requesting meeting," an assistant says. "They want to discuss joint acquisition of Rookeries properties."
"Interesting. They're thinking ahead too." I check my schedule. "Set meeting for tomorrow. After battle concludes. We'll discuss terms."
"What terms?"
"They get the bodies. We get the buildings. Clean division of spoils." I stand. Prepare to leave. "War creates opportunities. Smart operators seize them. We're very smart."
The battle rages. The dying continues. The blood flows.
And I'm signing property deeds. Foreclosing mortgages. Acquiring everything the Rookeries wolves thought they owned.
By sunset, I'll own their battlefield.
By tomorrow, I'll own their homes.
By next week, I'll own their future.
That's not monstrous. That's business.
And business is very good.