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The two men in the room, Dutch and Charlie, took a slow, deliberate sip of coffee from their cups, the steam momentarily clouding their intense gazes, before continuing their intricate dance of words. Meanwhile, Arthur, a silent guardian, followed John out, leaning casually on the second-floor railing, and with a practiced flick, lit a cigarette, the small flame momentarily illuminating his grimly amused face. Dutch, he knew, had the matters inside the house well in hand; he was always so resourceful, so terrifyingly well-planned.

"Mr. Van der Linde," Charlie began, placing his coffee cup precisely on the table, a flicker of calculation in his eyes. He paused, weighing his words, then continued, his voice dropping to a confidential murmur, "since you want information about the arms trade, I won't hide it from you any longer, sir." He leaned forward, his elbows on the table.

"Actually, most of our smuggling business here is related to Europe. We have established, reliable smuggling channels with Portugal, Spain, the British Empire, and France, each a lucrative artery of illicit goods."

Charlie lowered his voice further, as if sharing a deep secret.

"The arms trade is mostly related to Spain and the British Empire. Our main smuggling channels here are with the British Empire and, more extensively, with Spain. You know," he chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye, "after the last war, their losses were considerable, so they can only think of... other ways to compensate for their diminished coffers. And the arms trade, sir, along with supporting outlaws within the United States, that is their plan, their subtle vengeance. Which, conveniently, is why the Lemoyne Raiders, poor deluded fools, have so many weapons."

Charlie's gaze was fixed intently on Dutch's eyes, trying to gauge his reaction. Americans of this era, in Charlie's cynical view, had no true concept of nation or home, being mere descendants of those who had fled Europe for profit or freedom.

That's why he specifically mentioned that the smuggling channels were with Spain, a deliberate test, to see if Mr. Dutch could understand the implied, insidious meaning. This tactic, he thought, was simple, yet devastatingly effective: support internal terrorist organizations to cause domestic instability, which was unfavorable for governance and political stability, while simultaneously making a fortune and finding opportunities to dismantle the internal regime or support puppets.

This scheme, Charlie knew, was well-known in modern times, a playbook for the powerful. Like the United States cynically supporting the taliban and various rebel forces in small countries to divide and dismantle their internal regimes, or to keep these countries perpetually mired in war so they could only submit. These were all overused modern schemes; anyone who bothered to watch military programs would be intimately familiar with them.

However, ordinary Americans of this era didn't understand this, and even those without much foresight or deep insight couldn't grasp the underlying issues, the geopolitical chessboard. After all, information dissemination and collection were not developed in this era, and there were no programs specifically explaining such complex, national-level strategies.

It was already extremely difficult for ordinary people simply to survive, and gang members, caught in their daily brutal struggles, fought tooth and nail just to exist, so they couldn't see through or care about these grand, cynical matters.

(In reality, Charlie knew, not many modern people saw through it either; they were all taught by bigwigs who painstakingly broke it down for them. In the Middle East and other places, many people, especially those in impoverished and war-torn regions, and even the rebels themselves, did not know that they had actually always been unwitting participants in a scheme, and some people in the United States and Europe, due to deliberate information blockade, remained blissfully ignorant of such related plans.)

Therefore, Charlie often used this tactic, this seemingly insignificant piece of information, to test others, to gauge their depth of thought and thus determine their potential for investment, their worth as a business partner. Just like the Lemoyne Raiders, they had been receiving arms for so many years, yet they still understood absolutely nothing, not even why others were so eager to sell them arms, and they even, foolishly, thought it was just business.

So, apart from the pure transactional business, Charlie had no real dealings with them. These people were pure idiots, in Charlie's estimation; they'd been fighting for so many years and hadn't improved at all, literally degrading themselves from a military terrorist organization into common, brainless gang members, with no investment value whatsoever. Therefore, this seemingly insignificant piece of information was, for Charlie, the ultimate test.

Charlie had a powerful, intuitive feeling that the charismatic, highly leadership-oriented man sitting in front of him, this enigmatic Dutch Van der Linde, would give him a huge, profitable surprise.

Listening to Charlie's carefully veiled words, a bright, knowing smile blossomed on Dutch's face. He understood, yes, and even heard more information, more insidious layers, hidden within Charlie's seemingly innocent statements.

"So, Mr. Bahn," Dutch said, leaning back in his chair, a glint of predatory intelligence in his eyes, "if I go through the Spanish channel, I should be able to acquire a large quantity of related arms and equipment, right? You know, our Van der Linde Gang has always been wanted by the United States Government, and my bounty alone is as high as fifteen thousand dollars! I think my bounty should be enough to guarantee the deal, to show them I'm a serious player! What do you say?" Dutch stared intently at Charlie, his words carrying a different, more chilling flavor, a subtle implication of a far grander game.

(It's a high sum. If we take in inflation, In One Piece terms he would have a bounty of 120 million berries)

Charlie understood Dutch's words immediately; he knew, with a sudden, jarring clarity, that Dutch had grasped the full, insidious meaning of his previous statements. A surprised, almost involuntary smile involuntarily appeared on Charlie's face, his carefully maintained composure momentarily slipping.

Dutch proactively mentioning that his Van der Linde Gang was wanted clearly indicated his desire to leverage his notorious reputation as a wanted man to establish a direct connection with the Spanish government's covert support for terrorist organizations, thereby achieving a similar, but far more profitable, cooperation to that of the dim-witted Lemoyne Raiders. So Dutch definitely understood the meaning of his words, and more.

"Oh, Mr. Van der Linde, you are too modest!" Charlie exclaimed, his smile now genuinely surprised, mingled with a touch of awe.

"I think with your fearsome reputation, not only can we achieve cooperation, but I might even be able to secure a large discount for you! Damn it, a huge bounty of fifteen thousand dollars in a single state—there hasn't been such a high bounty since the very founding of the United States! Everyone in Van Horn Trading Post combined wouldn't amount to your individual bounty, sir! I think those damned Spanish will definitely love to work with you! Hahaha…"

Charlie laughed heartily, looking at Dutch with a mixture of admiration and profound respect as he complimented him, his eyes shining with greedy anticipation. Damn it, he thought, Mr. Van der Linde is truly a brilliant man! He just learned this news, and he's already figuring out how to gain maximum benefits! Damn it, investing in such a person will surely yield huge returns in the future!

Especially recently, Saint Denis and even Valentine had been spreading the word that Mr. Van der Linde was a gentleman who truly cared about the people, a benevolent figure, which undoubtedly also proved that whether for fame or for profit, Mr. Van der Linde would definitely bring benefits to others. So, he must be helped even more, he must be cultivated!

"Alright, Mr. Van der Linde, I like you very much, dear sir, you are a smart man, a truly smart man!" Charlie declared, his voice ringing with newfound conviction. "So I want to be friends with you! For this, all the information I have here will be freely available to you, a gesture of true friendship, and I will strive for the greatest discounts for you, my friend. I hope this gesture of friendship can truly make us friends!"

Charlie, with a wide, ingratiating smile, stood up from the sofa with the practiced grace of a seasoned gentleman, then reached into a nearby cabinet and, with a flourish, took out a thick document, placing it ceremoniously in front of Dutch.

Dutch looked at the document placed before him, his smile deepening, a subtle glint of cold amusement in his eyes.

"Very well, Mr. Bahn, you are a cunning man! Exchanging these low-value documents for a noble friendship? This is simply a no-capital business! Perhaps you have tricked many people with this method before, but it won't work on me, sir. When I purchase your equipment, you are inherently obligated to provide me with complete and detailed relevant information; this is your responsibility, your duty. And now, this very responsibility that you should fulfill has become a mere 'handout' to me, and you even want to gain some additional benefit from it. I must say you are truly cunning and, frankly, disgusting."

Dutch's voice grew colder and colder with each word, and the smile on his face gradually, ominously, disappeared. As his words ended, his eyes, like shadowy, venomous vipers, stared unblinkingly at Mr. Charlie Bahn, who had become utterly, painfully awkward and uncomfortable, his forced smile frozen on his face.

Damn it, Dutch thought, to use these petty, transparent tricks on an old fox who has been in society for many years and possesses cross-era insight, one must say Mr. Charlie Bahn has a lot of nerve, an almost suicidal audacity. An ordinary, naive person might truly have been fooled by Mr. Charlie Bahn's disarming words of "relationship-building" and his cordial, respectful demeanor. But Dutch was clearly no ordinary person, his mind a steel trap, his perceptions sharpened by years of treachery.

The raw, imposing aura emanating from Dutch, now fully unleashed, brought a tremendous, suffocating sense of oppression to Charlie Bahn, pinning him to his seat. And it also made him instantly, utterly settle down, his last vestiges of cunning evaporating under that chilling gaze.