When Charles was brought before Swan, he saw the fat man rapidly tapping away at a typewriter.
"Are you here?" Swan said without even lifting his head.
Observing his indifferent attitude, Charles was somewhat surprised; this man had not acted this way previously. Since Swan was not in the mood for pleasantries, Charles was only too happy to get straight to the point.
"I need a custom-built vessel, and I may need to use your Navy-exclusive shipyard."
A shadow flew directly toward Charles. Catching it with one hand, Charles found it to be a disc cast from various flat gears.
"Hold this token, and the shipyard's people will deal with you, but you still have to pay. If there's nothing else, you can leave now. I am responsible for 12 islands, not just some small Governor like you," Swan said with evident disdain in his voice.
Charles frowned and looked at the man's balding head before turning and heading toward the door.
