Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1185

Having concluded his lengthy speech, Jenkins reached for his glass of water. He’d never studied finance or economics; he only had a passing familiarity with such matters. He had merely offered it as an example to broaden Dolores’s perspective.

Jenkins swore to himself that he had absolutely no intention of ever implementing such a crude scheme.

Only after he finished did he notice the opera had begun, but no one in the private box seemed inclined to approach the curtain or pick up the small, gilded opera glasses.

Dolores was thinking, while Julia was committing his words to memory.

“But you said it was possible to turn a profit in the short term...”

Dolores didn’t question the feasibility of the method; she was focused on the timeline.

“If someone could constantly monitor the flow of tulips in the market and their real-time prices, what’s so difficult about short-term profit? You fan the flames, drive the speculation to a fever pitch, and then pull out at just the right moment. As long as the decision-maker has live data, the game is effortless to manipulate. In my opinion, if everything went smoothly, the entire affair could be wrapped up in a month, maybe even half that.”

Jenkins nodded, pleased with his sharp memory. In truth, the essence of all these so-called scams was the same: fleecing the flock. The only difference lay in the specific techniques and methods employed. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on Novᴇl_Fire(.)net

Traditional fraud targeted a limited number of individuals or groups, but the kind he described was aimed at the general public—an investment scheme at its core. That was why Jenkins considered financial games without the backing of real industry to be a form of high-level swindling. While perhaps an overly simplistic and extreme view, he felt the general direction was correct.

Jenkins could appreciate the artistry of an opera, but he simply couldn’t lose himself in it. He’d confirmed this fact about himself time and time again.

Thus, after watching for only a moment, he lost interest. He shifted his hand slightly, his head turning with the opera glasses to gaze down at the audience below.

Their box was situated in what was arguably the best spot in the theater, almost dead center. Looking down, he had an unobstructed view of the sea of heads and the varied figures in the dimly lit auditorium.

Because of the angle, looking down from above, Jenkins found he could see some rather... spectacular sights if a lady’s bodice was a bit too loose.

He blushed and quickly lowered the glasses. Seeing no cats watching him, he breathed a sigh of relief and raised them again, though this time he dared not aim them at the audience.

For fire and safety reasons, the hall had more than one entrance. Right now, those entrance doors were shut tight. With the house lights down, the glow from the stage barely reached the back of the auditorium. So, aside from Jenkins with his rather special eyes, no one could see the strange figures now emerging in an orderly fashion from the rearmost doors.

Among them were theater guards, ushers meant to guide distinguished guests, a girl carrying a flower basket, an old man who looked like a coachman, and more. It wasn’t unusual to see such people around the theater, but for all of them to walk inside now was exceedingly strange.

Jenkins narrowed his eyes, because he could see that the few people at the front were all holding pistols.

It was hard to say if he was describing his own fortune or that of the people below.

A pistol aimed at the ceiling fired, the gunshot followed by a cascade of screams as the audience below erupted into chaos. Then, someone threw on all the gas lights along the walls. The sudden shift from darkness to bright light made most people instinctively shut their eyes, and the singing on stage came to an abrupt halt.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please forgive me for not introducing myself. This is a robbery. Please hand over your wallets and jewelry. I’m an opera aficionado, so I’d rather not see blood staining the walls and carpets of this fine establishment.”

The speaker was a man who had emerged from behind the stage curtain. He and his companions appeared to have seized control of the backstage area. The lead actor, who had been singing moments before, bravely stepped forward to reason with the group, only to be sent tumbling off the stage with a swift kick.

Jenkins lowered the opera glasses and turned to see Dolores’s questioning gaze.

“It appears to be a robbery.”

He said it with an air of regret, then strode to the door and opened it, only to find no gunmen or robbers lying in ambush outside.

“What’s going on? Are they only robbing the people downstairs and not those of us up here?”

Jenkins wondered, then saw Julia produce a lady’s pistol from somewhere and make to rush out. He quickly stopped her.

“Allow me. How could I let ladies involve themselves in such a dangerous affair? It’s just a group of ordinary men. Pay them no mind.”

While the opera house wasn’t in the dead center of Ruen, it was still located in a bustling part of the city. Jenkins found it hard to believe a robbery could happen in a place .

But there was no need for him to intervene. Before he could even step out of the box, another commotion erupted from below, followed by the unending sound of gunfire and screams. Jenkins even recognized the furious roar of a steam-powered, water-cooled heavy machine gun—that unique spray of bullets and the clash of gears from a high-powered steam bladder was a sound he had only occasionally heard while training at the Oil Ink Mister Club.

Dolores lifted the water glass with her left hand, swept her right through the air, and instantly froze the liquid into a sheet of ice that sealed the balcony, protecting them from stray bullets.

Jenkins then walked to the window alone and peered through the layer of hard ice. He saw a large number of armed bodyguards in matching uniforms attacking from the doorways, the audience floor, and the theater’s other boxes. The ridiculously powerful machine gun he’d heard was firing from a box slightly lower than their own. A weapon like that, with its main body, steam storage and generation unit, and cooling system, was incredibly cumbersome. It must have been positioned in advance; there was no way it could have been brought in on the fly.

Looking down again, he saw that the stage had been half-shredded by the gun’s monstrous firepower. With that kind of suppressing fire, the self-proclaimed robbers were quickly losing ground.

“That should settle it.”

Jenkins commented. Dolores and Julia came over to join him.

They could hear the clamor outside the door now; patrons from the other boxes on their level had apparently fled into the hallway. The noise was followed by the frantic sound of footsteps—the guards of these distinguished guests, who had originally been waiting downstairs or even outside the theater.

Dolores had her own guards as well, but the princess simply inquired about the current situation before dismissing them.