What? Was it not enough to settle down as a manager and collect taxes?
Of course it was, but in a backwater like Shalin, where even crops barely grew, how much tax could they collect?
If they truly relied on taxes alone to support themselves, they might spend their entire lives in filthy fortresses full of sewage, unable to hold a banquet for years, not even able to eat white bread and roasted meat every day.
What manager, what minor noble, would be willing to live like that?
If they were unwilling, then naturally they would want to make some quick money.
And now, perhaps retribution had come. Many of their ways of making quick money had been uncovered by the new Lord over the past few days.
So, would they confess and receive leniency? Or resist and be punished harshly? Resisting harsh punishment was naturally not an option—Mayer was the example.
But confessing for leniency was not necessarily a bright path either.
This new Lord was so strange. What should have been a ceremony of swearing allegiance had been turned into this sort of meeting. Who knew what he truly wanted? Perhaps he wanted them all to voluntarily confess their crimes, then wipe them out in one sweep so he could install his own trusted men.
If that was really the case, they would not fall for it. At the very least, they would not be the first ones to fall for it.
In any case, no matter what happened, staying seated and keeping their heads down was the safest choice for now. They would wait and see how things developed.
And so, several capable managers kept their heads lowered while observing their surroundings from the corners of their eyes, looking to see whether there was a brave pioneer