Strictly speaking, Lu Yan's requests were not particularly troublesome. The nobles and capitalists present were all influential figures wielding vast wealth. The demands Lu Yan made could be met just by sacrificing a portion of their profits, making this exchange for a saint's help seem like a very worthwhile deal.

However, after a brief silence, the first to speak was Baron Welton, who had just asked a question.

He stepped forward, his deep blue formal attire glinted with a cold light under the illumination, his expression solemn and resolute.

"Your Eminence, I must decline this transaction."

His voice was firm and resonant, standing out clearly in the silent hall. Other nobles and capitalists all looked towards him, with some marveling at his bravery.

Welton maintained a serious expression, looking directly at Lu Yan, and stated without arrogance or servility:

"In terms of short-term interests, your assistance indeed outweighs the value we would pay, but once this opening is created, it would inevitably trigger a chain reaction.

More and more workers would take the benefits you outlined as a benchmark and make unreasonable demands to receive better treatment.

This would directly raise the costs of the entire industrial system, causing our factories to lose competitiveness during industrialization, thus undermining our foundation.

Furthermore... accepting your deal would place us in opposition to more factory owners, and even against the grand nobles."

Welton took a deep breath: "Forgive my candor, Your Eminence, but you are playing with fire!"

The last few words sounded like a thunderclap, echoing in the hall.

The other nobles and capitalists began to question it too, realizing the hidden problems in Welton's words.

If they truly agreed to Lu Yan's deal, it would undoubtedly sever ties with the noble system, which was the foundation for them and their families.

The goodwill of a saint is far from being worth such a price.

Lu Yan quietly watched Welton's performance, a hint of amusement in his eyes, and elegantly clapped his hands, producing a crisp sound.

"A well-crafted argument. But I'm quite curious, who gave you the courage to dare reject this deal?"

Lu Yan's voice, while calm, carried an undeniable authority that sent a chill through everyone present.

Baron Welton's complexion subtly changed, yet he maintained outward composure.

"Is it the grand nobles behind you? The Extraordinary Items on you? Or the saint you've secretly connected with...?"

As the last word fell, a golden light flashed through Lu Yan's eyes, and the air in the hall seemed to freeze.

As he finished speaking, Lu Yan slowly raised his right hand and grasped towards the front.

The crowd saw fine cracks suddenly appear in the air, like a shattering mirror, gradually expanding and intertwining. Layer by layer, space broke open, revealing within the shattered space a shadowy-faced middle-aged man.

The man, dressed in a grey robe, exuded the aura of a Sequence Four Saint, arrogance etched upon his brow, but now he was utterly panicked.

His eyes flickered with disbelief, as if he never expected his hiding place to be uncovered so easily.

He opened his mouth to speak, yet no words came out, helplessly watching as Lu Yan's fingers slowly closed.

As Lu Yan's fingers tightened, the shattered void rotated and contracted like a black hole, thoroughly devouring the saint's figure. A scream, unlike any human voice, briefly echoed and then abruptly ceased.

The broken void completely buried all signs of life, leaving nothing but emptiness.

The entire process only spanned a few seconds, yet it left everyone present petrified.

The faces of the Transcendents turned pale, the nobles even more horrified, with some collapsing to the ground. The crowd's expressions barely had the chance to show fear, their eyes still brimming with shocking disbelief.

At this moment, far away in the Great Cathedral of the Steam Church in the city center, a powerful aura suddenly shot into the sky, transforming into a pair of cold eyes overlooking the earth, capturing the waves of the saint's fall in an instant.

But in that very moment, the Supreme Divine Techniques of Creation and Transformation enveloped the entire manor, plunging everyone's consciousness into a blank void.

Lu Yan used his finger as a pen, drawing mysterious runes in the void, golden brilliance flowing at his fingertips, weaving into everyone's memory.

Those runes penetrated silently into the brow of each person present, subtly altering their memories, erasing all that had just occurred.

This miraculous change was soundless, and even those lofty eyes in the high heavens, when searching Violet Manor, would only return empty-handed.

When everyone's consciousness cleared again, Lu Yan still stood there with a smiling face, as if nothing had happened at all.

The atmosphere in the hall returned to normal, everyone's memories remaining at the moment when Lu Yan proposed the deal.

After a while, the previously oppressive and tense atmosphere began to ease, like a frozen lake greeting the spring breeze, quietly thawing.

The Count of Violet, as the host of the banquet, suddenly raised the red wine glass in his hand, the deep red liquid inside the crystal glass shimmering like a gemstone under the light. He smiled, his voice loud and firm:

"Your Eminence's compassion is truly humbling. The union benefits the people, and our Violet Clan will certainly support it!"

The Count of Violet's prestige as an old noble family was not to be underestimated.

With the Count of Violet's statement, it immediately garnered the support of numerous nobles.

A middle-aged man in a brown suit stepped forward, smiling humbly: "The Klan Company is willing to adhere to the union's statutes."

"The Aivert Clan is willing to partake in union affairs," stated a tall, thin young man, his eyes gleaming with ambition and expectation.

One by one, the nobles and emerging capitalists voiced their stance.

Some spoke with conviction, sincerity in their eyes, while others appeared a bit hesitant, yet couldn't help but go along with the tide of the crowd.

They instinctively felt something might be amiss, but their subconscious understanding prompted them to respond accordingly.

After all, it was just a matter involving some common folks, nowhere near as important as pleasing a saint.

Lu Yan stood at the center of the hall, an indescribable authority enveloping him.

He smiled and took a glass of red wine from an attendant, raising it in a distant toast to the crowd, the liquid as deep and dark as blood.

"Someday, you will be grateful for the decision you made today."

Lu Yan's voice wasn't loud, yet it resonated clearly in everyone's ears, as if echoing directly in the depths of their souls, causing all those present to shiver slightly within.

The Count of Violet respectfully lifted his glass in return, reverence gleaming in his eyes.

"To the Saint!"

The noble crowd followed in unison, their voices echoing in the luxurious hall, like a solemn ceremony.

"To the Saint!"

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