Bear School Astartes-Chapter 577 - 579. Decisiveness

Chapter 577: 579. Decisiveness
Faced with almost blatantly pointed questions, Stuart remained as calm as if he were not an eighteen-year-old young man, and Hacksaw continued to smile as if he had seen nothing.
"Sir."
Hilton narrowed his eyes dangerously, and called out respectfully once more.
"This doesn’t match with what we agreed upon earlier, does it? I’ve sold my goods to you at the greatest discount. Which of you here hasn’t eaten the food from my convoy? Whose equipment hasn’t been repaired by the artisans in my convoy?"
"The guards of my convoy have also helped in many battles... We can’t be like brothel patrons and refuse to recognize anyone after pulling up our pants, can we? That wouldn’t be classy, nor right."
Hacksaw’s expression didn’t change at all.
"Of course, Mr. Hilton, that wouldn’t be classy nor right..."
"But it could keep us alive."
"Can’t you see how many people outside are starving, freezing to death?"
"I certainly feel sad and sorrow for those poor souls, truly," Hilton said coldly, "but I certainly won’t destroy my goods because of sadness and sorrow!"
The cold gleam of steel belonging to the merchant was almost showing from the sleeve.
"So I don’t need you to destroy your goods," Hacksaw said with a smile, "we’ll help you."
"Hacksaw! You bastard, don’t be shameless! I’m a Sodden man, and I won’t lose money for the lives of you Sintra People! I’d rather die for that!"
"Oh? You’re unwilling to give up this convoy’s goods for the lives of Sintra People?"
For the first time, Hacksaw showed an expression other than a smile. He was a bit taken aback, seemingly bewildered by Hilton’s words.
"But from what I know... Lincoln, what business is our Mr. Hilton primarily involved in?"
The half-grown child who had been constantly taking notes beside Hacksaw, sniffed first, then fluently gave an answer.
"Sir, Mr. Hilton is a businessman with the Temerian Royal Family’s license. He uses Sodden as a transit point to sell Temeria’s advanced handmade goods to us at high prices. We can’t produce these ourselves, so we always pay whatever price he asks."
"Then can I understand it this way?" Hacksaw said.
"Our friend from the Northern Kingdom has amassed countless wealth through monopolized reselling. His luxury properties in Sodden, Temeria, Sintra, and lavish expenses all come from the wealth created by the Sintra People’s hard work. And he relies solely on a paper document with a white lily pattern?"
"When war comes, when the Niflgaard people begin to ravage this land and its people, this country, which has been financially scored off of by them over and over again..."
"You say the people here have nothing to do with you. You say you would rather die than release a convoy’s worth of goods for these people."
Hacksaw still smiled, but that smile... somehow made the tent feel very cold.
"Honorable Mr. Hilton."
"You have indulged in the honor and cheers brought by money and channels in this country, girls in brothels are willing to sing to your gold coins. Now you wish to leave... There’s no such lucrative deal, sir."
"Even if there was before, now, I forbid it!"
Undoubtedly, in terms of the conversation’s momentum, Hilton was overwhelmed.
Hacksaw, not holding the scepter, grasped Hilton’s dagger hidden in the sleeve, and calmly and politely placed it against his own neck.
"Of course, my neck is under your knife now, a common razor could split my throat without needing such a fine dagger. But before you pull the handle, I must remind you."
The whole time, his smiling eyes stared into Hilton’s eyes.
"I don’t care about this life, honorable sir. Because as I have told you, you made money from the Sintra People, now you should repay it. I’m a Royal Steward, I used to sit atop most Sintra people and defecate! Wealth, status, reputation, whatever you have, I also have. So now I should repay it too. We all must repay."
"But I must remind you, sir."
"After you remove the knife from my blood vessel, you and your friends will walk out here unharmed, I guarantee."
"Afterwards, my son will find the Niflgaard people, the solitary Niflgaard people."
"My son will skin them alive, chop off their limbs and hang them from wooden poles, castrate them and stuff that thing into their mouths."
"These poles will be erected in the most obvious places, along with a sign. That sign will say: this is our joint handiwork, thanks to Hilton Commerce Association for material support."
"Your mother, wife, and children seem to be in Sodden? That could be a dangerous place. Given the Niflgaard people’s military strength and pride, arrogance. Rushing to Sodden to massacre a home that humiliated them seems to be... not difficult?"
Hacksaw’s voice was gentle and polite, as if he were still carefully serving the Royal Family of Sintra.
Geralt had heard this kind of voice, when he first met Calanthe, Hacksaw shaved him with this kind of voice.
At that time, Hacksaw’s technique and voice made him thoroughly enjoy it.
But now...
Hilton unconsciously licked his lips with his tongue, his eyes darting around in panic.
The mercenary who almost reached for the sword hilt at his waist also hesitated and blinked, moving his hand away from that easy-to-misunderstand spot.
Hacksaw released Hilton’s sleeve, smiling.
With a look like he was saying, you can go ahead.
But the merchant who had been so aggressive earlier now seemed afraid that the dagger might shave off one of Hacksaw’s whiskers.
He took a step back with an incredibly gentle posture, holding his breath.
Only when the dagger completely left Hacksaw’s neck skin, did he begin to breathe again with a sudden gasp.
The former Royal Steward maintained a constant smile, watching the big merchant gasping for air and starting to sweat coldly.
"We will take all the useful goods from your convoy. We will enlist all your convoy guards."
"This is not a request or solicitation, this is an official notification on behalf of the Sintra People."
Now, everyone in the tent had nothing to say.
Hacksaw smiled, and his son stood beside him with a calm expression.
Everything seemed normal.
But everyone who met their gaze knew... they were utterly mad!
From now on, there won’t be space for small cliques within the refugee group.
Anyone who stands in the way of Hacksaw and his son’s goals, they would not hesitate to pull them into death!
Undoubtedly, it was a kind of decisiveness close to... self-destruction!