Damon's Ascension-Chapter 42: The First Instance 1

Before Damon could even begin to inquire about the happenings, he noticed a prompt appear before him, which was part of the aid the Universe Will bestowed to humans who were perusing their own server for the first 20 years.

[Essence Augmented Reality (Earth) - Fort James Instance 1]

[Duration: 6 hours.]

[Details: The Ga Mantse has finally capitulated to the advice of the Fante Chiefs and decided to begin selling his captured war slaves to the foreigners in exchange for their mirrors, schnapps, and gunpowder. As the Obetse, the son of the Ga Mantse, you have been sent with a delegation to deliver the war slaves and negotiate a fair price for the clan.]

[Objective(s):

a. Complete the sale for the clan with satisfactory results

b. Free the slaves silently as a form of protest against this act.]

Damon quickly took in the details, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. He was even more certain that the Universe Will was paying deep attention to him because how could his thoughts and words back then about the cascading effect of slavery be carried out word for word like this?

Rather than bring Damon into the heart of the slave trade era, it brought him to the precipice—the very moment where the line was crossed beyond reasonable doubt and would cause catastrophic consequences down the line.

As if saying, ’Well, you were making a lot of noise insulting your ancestors. Now, why don’t you walk a mile in their shoes?’

Challenge accepted then.

Damon looked up to the British Officer before him, who, despite having a flintlock and his men possessing matchlock guns in the fort, was still nervous and respectful. In his mind, these black men were savages that could eat his flesh and stew his bones, and his guns could not keep their numbers at bay.

He did not want to provoke these locals, but he had to make some money somehow. He had traveled far across the Atlantic to come to this promised land that was overflowing with gold and riches, where it was said that the precious metal was treated as an annoyance.

In fact, this was true. The place this British sailor came to was the coast of what is now known as Ghana but was previously called the Gold Coast.

You could easily calculate why it was named that.

You’ve heard of Mansa Musa, but he was an extreme example. In many rivers and water holes, the women of the various clans would often be fetching water for cooking or bathing when their basins would be clogged by gold nuggets, which they would angrily throw away while cursing.

Gold had not much value to a tribal society like this that did not extensively trade with others, only valuing things like agriculture, religion, and war. There was space for art, dance, and language, but not in the way the rest of the world perceived it since the mixing of cultures led to cultural competition.

Likewise, the slaves of war were usually a headache for the winning side. Craftsmanship was usually something that each man in his tribe prided himself on, so they did not really see the need to make other people do their building for them.

Same with agriculture. The man with the most goats or cows, as well as the man with the most flourishing yam or maize crop, was the one who got all the marriage proposals. Apart from his own children who would help him on the farm, how could he trust a former enemy to come and tend to his crops?

Then came the foreigners, who were trembling at the sight of these annoying little gold nuggets, and these ancestors of Damon’s seemed to have a brain flash.

That was the general background. As they always say, hindsight is 20/20.

Looking back now from how the world developed and with knowledge of the history of all parts of the world, these ancestors often looked foolish for making bad trades, exchanging precious minerals and human labor for trinkets and alcohol.

However, one could argue that it was a matter of perspective. Trading what you felt was useless and in abundance for what was valuable and rare was the definition of a good trade, was it not?

Unfortunately, Damon did not think so. He was not part of the sympathizers who tried to defend the past but rather looked at it with an even more critical view.

What came around were initially sailors and explorers, but crafty businessmen. When they came ashore, exchanged some initial supplies, and saw gold being handed to them, their eyes would definitely bulge out.

If not, there would be some sort of reaction for sure, like shock or confusion. These sailors would not hide their desire for this worthless thing, which should clue the locals in that this worthless thing was actually not so worthless.

Did they not have a hint of cunningness in their minds? Were they dodo birds? You just walk through life assuming everything will be fine at the end of the day without using your brain to observe and think?

Even worse, you saw these fellows on ships that could travel far and wide, with cannons that could blow men into pieces and guns that could shoot from afar.

You never thought to ask for the source of this technology in exchange for the gold? Even if they said no, which they likely would, all you had to say in return was that you wouldn’t trade gold to them either.

In that era, they at least respected and feared you somewhat, thinking you were millions hidden in the forest and jungles, not some sparse clans that a single army company could clean up with matchlocks.

The outcome was quite inevitable when you thought about it. First was the slave trade perpetuated by his own people, which was then abolished by the foreigners—not even by his own people themselves—and then came the colonialisms where resources were exploited brutally without a care for the aftereffects.

Damon fully believed that 80% of the current state of his homeland was perpetuated by his ancestors, hence the hidden resentment in the young man, which had festered until now, bursting out at this moment when he was given the chance to actually appear in that very era, at that very key moment.

"Obetse, the white-skinned men are waiting for us to make an offer." One of Damon’s entourage reminded him softly in the local language, which Damon already understood, though the dialect was slightly archaic.

Damon adjusted his cloth and nodded. The translator, who was also part of his entourage, stepped forth with a confident smile and greeted the westerners in front of them.

"Greetings, Captain Richard Pembroke, we represent the noble Ga Mantse in the offer to trade with your foreigners, bringing goods that we are sure you would like."

Captain Pembroke’s eyes lit up. "Oh? Then have you brought more gold?"

If he could secure some more gold to take home, he would be able to pay all his debts for initiating this voyage and especially get his young son a spot in the Catholic School!

The translator turned to Damon because he was the official decision-maker here and spoke in the local language. "Obetse, this man greets you and asks if we have more of the yellow metal to give him."

There was a sound of snorting and amusement from the local entourage, as if disdaining their counterpart for taking such an interest in something so worthless.

"Tell him that we have some, but whether he can get it is based on what he’s willing to give." Damon said coldly, making his people seem confused.

Weren’t we usually already excited enough to throw away this useless junk for whatever they had? Why was the Obetse playing hardball now? What if they suddenly didn’t want it anymore? Where would they get their alcohol and playthings later to show off in the clan?

The translator glanced at Damon with similar confusion, but upon the young man’s cold look, still decided to relay what was said.

"The noble Obetse states that we do have some, but it is up to you to make a suitable offer for them."

Captain Pembroke was also slightly confused. When his mates came home after their travels here, they always boasted about how the dumb savages were willing to practically throw gold into his hands in exchange for the leftover rubbish and meaningless stuff on their ships.

Why was it that when it was his turn, they suddenly became so astute and tough?

Anyway, he had what they wanted, so he motioned to one of his men to bring out a few crates full of bottled schnapps and some small hand mirrors as well. Looking at these things, the local African men with Damon were excited, almost rushing out to grab these goods.

However, Damon smiled with amusement and glanced at the flintlock at Captain Pembroke’s waist. "Tell him that I want to see the gun at his waist."