On the twenty-eighth day since the comncent of the ga, the cycle of utilizing soil enhancent potions has reached its fourth iteration.
The farrs laboring outside Pelican City, in their newly cultivated fields, have undergone a complete transformation.
Their luxurious attire represents but the surface of a deeper, more significant change—a profound tamorphosis in their spirit and deanor.
Even the most honest and timid among them, when walking the streets of Pelican City, exude a confidence and pride that cannot be obscured, despite their rough, sun-darkened skin and ordinary features.
"Good morning, Mr. Jas."
"Mr. Jas, greetings!"
The simple rural youth, Jas, now dons a fine coat, the value of which he does not fully comprehend, yet purchased in a mont of joy, persuaded by the shopkeeper's enthusiasm.
He has beco a notable figure in Pelican City, securing a place for himself within the Pelican Trading Comrce, his reputation swiftly spreading throughout the Watson territory.
This young man, who once could only respond with a shy nod to greetings, now greets others with a nod and a smile, effortlessly.
Amidst the greetings, he ascended the stairs, swiftly making his way to the lounge at the end of the corridor.
There, the true masters of the Pelican Trading Comrce await him.
"Co in."
At the sound of the invitation, Jas pushed the door open to find Reginald and Laurel sitting opposite each other, with a stack of docunts on the table between them.
"Take a seat." Laurel glanced at Jas before continuing the discussion with Reginald, "Next, we should use these cities as nodes to rapidly expand our grain sales to the surrounding areas..."
"Isn't this too hasty?"
Reginald, puffing on a cigar, exhaled a cloud of smoke, "We haven't yet secured our footing in these cities. Diverting our grain supply so soon, could it..."
"No problem," Laurel interjects, "Just cultivate more fields to increase production."
Reginald, the businessman, shrugged, "You're the expert, your call."
Laurel nodded, then turned back to Jas, "Jas, find suitable candidates to manage the new fields."
"Understood, and, uh... anything else?"
In the presence of these two, Jas still felt nervous—a towering tycoon and a benefactor who changed his life. He maintained a cautious deanor towards them both.
"Actually, yes, about what cos next..."
Reginald began, but suddenly raised an eyebrow and glanced at his pocket.
"The telecrystal... You two continue, I'll step out for a mont."
With a wave of his hand, the man exited the lounge, leaving Laurel to focus on the docunts on the table, showing little interest in further conversation.
Jas remained silent for a mont before he cautiously inquired of Laurel, "I've long wanted to ask... Laurel, why ?"
"Hmm?"
"Is it rely because we are from the sa town that you chose to collaborate with you?"
Jas gazed at the stocky man before him, still unable to comprehend, and even felt a disquieting unease—why had Laurel chosen him?
Laurel set aside the docunts, turned to look at Jas, and spoke in an even tone, "Because you're a good person."
"...Ah?"
"You are a most typical farr, skilled in nothing but tilling the soil, timid, sowhat kind-hearted, hence trustworthy and easy to exploit."
Jas was stunned for several seconds before he finally exhaled, "Is… is that really all there is to it?"
"Had I been alone, the food I could provide would not have been sufficient, nor the advance paynt persuasive enough to easily secure the right to negotiate the sale of food from other farrs."
"Moreover, upon hearing my explanation, most farrs would often beco greedy, secretly dealing with Reginald, thus allowing him to exploit this shortsightedness and easily dominate us."
"Furthermore... you are better suited than I am for negotiating with other farrs. In this regard, you have indeed perford admirably these past days. Do you require more reasons?"
Laurel's response was grounded in a very rational and utilitarian perspective, yet Jas did not show much displeasure; on the contrary, he felt increasingly reassured.
"No, no, no... I understand what you an, Laurel... You're truly formidable! You're bound to beco a great rchant in the future!"
"...A great rchant, huh."
Although Laurel neither confird nor denied it, he let out an inexplicable snort.
"Anyway, we must hasten the Pelican Trading Comrce's takeover of the entire Watson territory's grain market—the faster, the better... Do you understand?"
Unaware of the fervor and urgency in Laurel's words, Jas cheerfully agreed, "No problem, I'll communicate with them—"
Knock, knock, knock!
The urgent knocking at the door startled them both; Reginald would not need to knock to enter, so who could it be?
"Co in," Laurel said, his brow slightly furrowed.
The door was pushed open, and a visibly trembling employee of a the trading comrce entered the lounge, clutching a... cloth bag?
"Mr. Morlamo, Mr. Jas, soone... soone delivered this to the front desk, saying it was... it was for you."
"For... ?"
Jas, puzzled, took the cloth bag from the employee's hands.
Upon touching it, the shape of the object inside the bag sent a chill down his spine.
It felt like... like a hand?
The young man, filled with unease, unwrapped the cloth bag, and the mont the contents were revealed, he scread, hurling the bag away.
Thud—
The object hit the floor and rolled, causing Laurel's pupils to constrict, for it was indeed... a hand!
He looked sternly at the employee, "Who brought this here!"
"I... I don't know! He was masked, just dropped it off and left."
Yet, Jas stood frozen, staring at the hand for a long while, his initial shock overtaken by growing horror.
He stumbled forward, falling to the ground, and scrambled towards the hand, his lips quivering palely.
"This is... this is..."
Jas picked up the hand, which had been severed for so ti as no fresh blood flowed from it, and upon seeing the wooden ring on the thumb, his voice was filled with panic:
"This is my father's... this is my father's hand!"
"..." Laurel's eyes narrowed slightly, and he imdiately stood up, walking over to Jas, "Let see."
"Laurel!" Jas didn't hand it over but instead shouted in terror and anger, "Who! Who would threaten my father! He... how is he now, he wouldn't—"
"I said let see!"
Laurel, irritated, snatched the pale hand from Jas, and upon turning it over, saw the word carved into the flesh of the palm:
[Price]
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