Becoming a god by raising witches

Locke shook his head.

“Although Mr. Baker is the president of the Food Association, the kingdom’s food pricing is not determined by him alone. If all the members of the association jointly report him for disrupting the market, this plan will fail prematurely. Therefore, in order for the plan to proceed smoothly, we must bring them along to make money. Baker Food Company needs to give away some shares.”

"Shares? That's Dad's life. Dad won't agree to it."

"I'm nervous," Lucy said, clutching her skirt with both hands.

"No, you just need to tell Mr. Baker the plan, and I believe he will agree. Selling shares at a low price now is the best way to recover losses. He certainly doesn't want to see the grain empire he built collapse, does he? His rivals are now eyeing him covetously. If he is unwilling to relinquish his interests now, all that awaits Baker Grain Company is the fate of being completely swallowed up by the Miralf family."

Locke said with certainty.

He even knew about the old noble family, Miralf!

Lucy couldn't help but look at Locke with new respect, feeling that this young man was the savior sent by the goddess of life to save the Baker family.

The middle-aged bodyguard was stunned, but he became even more wary of Locke.

A complete stranger, yet he knows so much about the Baker family! And he can even offer such advice!

The bodyguard suspected that Locke had deliberately approached his young mistress.

"Mr. Locke... Mr. Bemon, how did you come up with such a brilliant idea? Are you a student at the Business Alliance Academy?"

Lucy is currently studying at the Business Alliance Academy, and Locke looks to be about the same age as her, which is why she asked that question.

Locke shook his head. "I just simply enjoy reading."

This method was actually the approach taken by a wealthy man on the verge of bankruptcy in a novel Locke had read in his previous life. He was simply borrowing the wisdom of his predecessors and standing on the shoulders of giants.

"Thank you, Mr. Locke."

Lucy stood up, bowed respectfully to Locke, and instructed the bodyguard to leave all the money in the box before leaving with him.

Locke stared at the box full of brightly colored Micks and fell into deep thought.

Has fate been too generous in its gifts to me?

Could it be that the evil god of fate has also taken notice of me?

Chapter 44, "He was sent by the goddess to save us."

Eileen the black cat sat atop the black box, proudly raising her head.

"We can finally stay somewhere with a private bathroom."

“No, this money can’t be touched for now. Until Hannah and I find jobs, this must be kept as emergency savings for the family.”

Locke put the black box away and placed it in the closet in Hannah's room.

Eileen showed a dissatisfied expression until Locke promised to buy better ingredients and cook more delicious dishes in the future, which calmed Eileen down and prevented her from controlling Locke's body to wash the public restroom 100 times.

Lucy got into the private car, and the middle-aged bodyguard spoke up to remind her...

“Miss Lucy, please don’t completely trust that person. He must have had a purpose in trying to get close to you, which is why he investigated the Baker family so thoroughly.”

“Uncle Jason, please don’t say that. I hope this is the last time you speak ill of Mr. Locke. He was sent by the goddess to save us.”

Lucy clutched the gold leaf pendant around her neck, silently beginning to anticipate.

Jason, the bodyguard, had no idea how brilliant the plan was, but Lucy, who had been involved in business since childhood, knew that it was a solution that only a genius could come up with.

Meanwhile, Locke, from Old Tom's apartment, also hurriedly left with his black cat before night had fully fallen.

Target: East District, Wutong Street.

Upon arriving at the Trey Bridge, the ever-frugal Locke reluctantly paid 30 mcg for the carriage fare, boarded the carriage, and crossed the long Trey Bridge.

From this bridge, you can see the bustling Wells district, the towering Cathedral of Life, and the predominantly deep blue City Hall in the distance, and further still, the opulent Queenstown.

Crossing this bridge is like completing a leap in social class and moving towards a better new life.

No wonder 90% of people in the West End dream of moving to the East End, while the other 10% dream of the world ending.

"See? The West District and the East District are worlds apart. I should move to the East District as soon as possible and rent a manor there to be more in line with my status."

Eileen stood on Locke's shoulder and meowed.

Locke chose to ignore it; if all that money were used to rent the manor, his and Hannah's future would be insecure.

The driver took Locke to the Wells area across the Trey Bridge, and said with a smile,

"Handsome gentleman, welcome to visit us again. Have a pleasant journey."

Despite his sweet talk, Locke didn't give him a tip.

Locke and Eileen disembarked from the carriage and arrived at the brightly lit Wells district.

Wells is a true paradise for the wealthy, Kossock's largest consumer area, home to department stores, opera houses, casinos, the Rose Theatre, and various exclusive clubs; the term "extravagant and decadent" is no exaggeration.

The streetlights here turn on at 6 a.m., and even without the streetlights, the lights from the department stores and various shops are enough to illuminate the place like a sea of ​​stars. These lights stay on all night, which is why people call this place "Welsh that never sleeps".

The ground was covered with floor tiles printed with the totem of the leaf of life. The roads were four times wider than those in Pete district. The unique scene of trams, trackless trains, private cars and horse-drawn carriages created a bustling traffic flow. The people coming and going were all dressed appropriately.

Ladies were in the mood to carry lace-trimmed parasols that offered no protection from the rain, wear hats decorated with feathers, and Rococo-style long dresses. Their large expanses of fair skin on their chests had to be adorned with jewelry, otherwise it would be considered an indecent act.

The men typically wore dark tailcoats or suits, or at the very least, trench coats, carried canes, and wore bowler hats. A proper gentleman would also be accompanied by a noble dog named Priss, a symbol of status.

The Priss is similar to the German Shepherd of the previous generation of Locke. They are loyal, trainable and obedient. It is said that the Queen had an entire guard equipped with these Priss dogs. For a time, raising Priss dogs became a trend in Kosork.

Locke walked among these respectable people, feeling the disdainful gazes from all directions.

This coat looked quite decent in the West End, but in the East End, it became utterly tattered in people's eyes.

Some women even covered their noses, even though Locke didn't smell at all.

Locke overheard their whispers and taunts.

"What a pity, she's quite good-looking, but she's dressed so inappropriately."

"A rat from the West Side sewers? It reeks of poverty."

Ignoring the murmurs, Locke saw the deserted Baker's Bakery. This bakery was five times the size of the surrounding bakeries, but its business was nowhere near as good as the small bread shop next door.

Locke knew this was the effect of the West End water pollution incident, and if Mr. Baker didn't take strong measures, the situation would probably get even worse.

As they passed a clothing store, Eileen suddenly patted Locke on the shoulder with her furry paw.

"Aren't you planning to buy a decent outfit?"

"?"

Locke looked at Eileen with a puzzled expression.

Don't you think you're very conspicuous right now?

Eileen reminded her.

Locke looked around and noticed that there were indeed many unfriendly gazes around him, especially from the two sheriffs not far away.

In the West End, Locke could basically go anywhere with ease, but unfortunately in the East End, he would attract too much attention no matter where he appeared.

With such an outfit, she probably wouldn't even be able to get through the doors of the Woolf luxury apartment building.

Locke decided to take Eileen's advice and went into the clothing store.

The shop assistant was a young woman with many freckles on her face. She smiled and looked at Locke.

Do you need a coat?

"Yes, miss, I need a coat that is respectable enough to get into the Woolf Mansions."

Knowing he lacked common sense about choosing clothes, Locke took the initiative to ask the saleswoman for advice.

The young woman with freckles smiled even more brightly. She liked Locke's appearance, and even more so, the words that came out of his mouth.

The sales clerks in clothing stores do not look down on customers who enter the store wearing tattered coats; it is precisely because they are poorly dressed that they need to buy new clothes.

"If you are going to visit a friend at the Woolf Mansions, you must wear the latest wool coat, a top hat symbolizing gentlemanly conduct, and a pair of white gloves. Your cane and pocket watch must also be at least silver. Otherwise, the snobbish security guards at the Woolf Mansions will definitely stop you from going. They are a bunch of fools who only know how to judge people by their appearance."

The freckled woman was very talkative. She led Locke to the men's clothing section and picked out a brown coat. "Guest, trust me, this coat is tailor-made for you."

Locke wore a brown coat, which suited him very well. Combined with his handsome appearance, he gave off the air of a wealthy young master. Unfortunately, it was too ostentatious. Locke smiled and declined the freckled woman's offer.

"I need someone more low-key."

Locke smiled and said, "I'm actually a private investigator."

The freckled woman immediately found Locke a classic trench coat according to his needs. It was still made of cashmere and was very comfortable and warm to wear.

While it may not be as aesthetically pleasing as the brown coat, it is very practical because the trench coat has four pockets inside, enough to hold a lot of things.

"How much does this cost?"

"2000 meters".

The freckled woman said with a smile.

2000 Micks? That's equivalent to a textile worker's monthly salary!

This is just an ordinary-looking trench coat, without even the bowler hat, white gloves, cane, and pocket watch that the freckled woman mentioned!

Locke glanced at the black cat on his shoulder...

Chapter 45, We All Have a Bright Future