A smile still lingered in Tang Meier's eyes, but her heart was clear as a mirror.
The Bounty Pavilion had stood firm in the Southern Continent for hundreds of years and had never made a losing deal. Every calculation concealed a way to guarantee profit without loss.
In this world, anyone who posted a mission at the Bounty Pavilion first had to pay a considerable commission, determined by the difficulty of the mission.
And when those martial artists who accepted missions and risked their lives to complete them came to claim their rewards, the Bounty Pavilion would still take a handling fee ranging from ten to thirty percent. The richer the reward, the higher the percentage taken.
It earned commissions from the posters on one end and handling fees from the executors on the other. The Bounty Pavilion was like an invisible hub, eating from both ends.
Whether a mission succeeded or failed, it could steadily reap profits without ever suffering losses. That was the foundation that had allowed it to endure for centuries and spread throughout the Southern Continent.
As for the source of missions, it did not have the slightest need to worry.
In this age, martial strength reigned supreme. The once-mighty Central Imperial Dynasty had long since fallen apart, its decrees unable to pass through.
War raged endlessly across every province and prefecture. Sects stood in great numbers, powerful clans carved up territories, and the righteous and demonic paths fought without cease.
What day passed without flashing blades and clashing swords?
What day passed without grudges, vengeance, and murder?
And if there was none, then...
The stronger side needed the Bounty Pavilion to handle some shady business that could not be brought into the light.
The weaker side begged the Bounty Pavilion to send people to protect