Chapter 1487 Lancaster's New Maxim: Rule the World with the Lower Body?_2

Order the entire Fleet to enter wartime status, and strictly forbid any form of external communication.

However, his order was still a step too late.

Because Cromwell and the organizations under his command were the first to be hit in this tulip bubble, suffering disastrous losses.

As the president of the Remit Free Stone Masonry Association and also a Great Banker, once he tilted his mind even slightly toward his own organization and private interests, he had long since tossed the Netherland Kingdom Navy to the back of his mind.

Even though he had already used his position to plant a large number of trusted followers throughout the Fleet, effectively turning them into Legitimate Forces under his control.

Of course, such a choice surprised no one.

For these Remit People, who had lived mixed in with other ethnic groups for a thousand years without ever being assimilated, this had always been taken for granted.

Even though the first thing he thought of was sealing off all information.

With the undercurrent of Flow State pushed by Byron and Catherine surging beneath it, there was simply no way to plug all the leaks; what was coming would still come.

When Cromwell learned that the news had spread throughout the entire Fleet, that riots were flaring up on every single Warship, and that the Command System was on the verge of collapse, he still couldn’t help his face turning ashen, even feeling a chill run down his spine.

“Lord, why did the explosion have to come at this moment? It’s only the end of October; the winter trading days have just begun. The bulbs won’t be put back into the ground until February next year. There are at least three months of growth left, why the rush? There’s no reason. Amsterdam, this East Coast financial center, and the entire banking system of the Remit People are both finished.”

Cromwell knew exactly what the best way to salvage the losses would be at this moment.

But actually paying out of his own pocket to settle all the futures contracts was something he could never bring himself to say.

Leaving aside whether he and the other Bankers who controlled the economic and political lifeblood of this country had the financial power to plug such a massive hole for the Kingdom.

The prerequisite for a bailout is that this “market” still has some Hope of a rebound, that you can continue to find new suckers to take the bag.

But once he realized that behind the bulbs there was a mysterious, omnipotent force fanning the flames, he knew the tulip market would never exist again.

A [Banker] never does a losing deal; confidence is more precious than gold. In the future, no one will ever again have confidence in tulips going up.

So the order he finally issued was:

“Field supervision squads, move out, suppress all the rioters for me. In addition, promise all officers at the rank of lieutenant commander and above in the Fleet that I will wipe out their debts and settle the futures contracts in their hands. Everyone will hold their own Warship, purge it, then re‑promote junior officers, and restore combat capability at the fastest possible speed.”

Since the Royal Fleet of The Holy Silver Empire, with the Legendary Warship [Holy Mother’s Immaculate Conception] as Flagship, had already entered the North Sea, with the undefeated Invincible Fleet standing behind them.

This Protector of the Realm decisively chose the “cheaper” solution.

As long as you buy off a handful of key people, you can exploit loopholes, find openings, and then break apart this powder‑keg of a force piece by piece.

The Steward hesitated:

“Your Excellency, most of the junior officers are our Remit People.”

The Protector of the Realm knitted his brows:

“Remit People who ignore the bigger picture are not my kin. Pass down the order.”

Unfortunately, just as Cromwell’s order went out, his ears suddenly filled with the pleasant chiming of Gold Coin flows.

Crash, crash…

He turned his head, and saw that behind him, every city and town in the entire Netherland Kingdom—any place covered by the tax system—was all rising in a haze of illusory golden light.

In his Spiritual Vision it converged into a vast, majestic golden torrent, rushing at high speed toward the harbor where he stood.

“What’s going on?!”

This Fifth Order Legendary Banker of the Gold Sequence, who also served as Netherlands Finance Minister, sensed at the first instant the true nature of the Power inside that golden torrent.

Yet he found it impossible to resist the Summoning of the [Finance Queen] and the [Finance] Divine Position in her hand.

As the golden torrent swept past him, it immediately dragged this Minister of Finance, who held the fiscal power of the realm, into itself as well.

By the time Cromwell opened his eyes again, the world before him had completely changed.

When he saw the surroundings clearly—scenery all too familiar—his eyes suddenly widened.

This was actually the place he had been to many times before… the Online Financial Street!

Cromwell himself was even a supreme VIP here.

Don’t get the wrong idea, he wasn’t here to flatter a rival. The reason he had topped up and spent money was purely to study how this mysterious space operated, so that he could later open his own online trading platform.

He and the Freemason Society had long since drawn up their project plan.

They possessed vast offline banks, investment institutions, a dazzling array of trading companies, as well as close ties with the Church.

They could fully leverage their offline advantages to burn money and grab users, offer massive subsidies, hire girls comparable to Fairies in the Lake as customer service, provide refund‑only services, bring in big‑name Artists from the Hall Sequence for promotion… and so on.

Even if this whole suite of personalized services still couldn’t beat Financial Street, they could always play their ultimate trump card: incite the Church to find a way to… cut the net to the Online Financial Street.

The contents of that proposal only flashed through his mind for an instant before another question dropped into his Heart:

“Isn’t this supposed to be [Mr. Wednesday] and [Lady Friday]’s turf? Why have I been dragged here?”

What had come here wasn’t his true body, only his consciousness; the national finances of the Netherland had become his new body.

The embodiment of a country’s finances is similar to the national persona manifested by [King’s Military Might]; both are some kind of Animal. For the Netherland Kingdom, that Species is the White Stork.