After a good rest, the next day dawned bright and cloudy. Back in the swamp forest south of Vizima, after disembarking from the ferry once more, Victor, commander of the Phantom Troupe, and his chief enforcer Angoulême no longer needed to run. Heads held high, they strode into the small fishing village that had prospered thanks to the newly established "logging zone."
As a village serving the logging zone, it naturally had no shortage of timber. Newly built houses could be seen everywhere, standing in stark contrast to the original shabby buildings. The clothing of passing pedestrians also clearly distinguished locals from newcomers.
While the troupe was still observing the town, someone who had apparently been watching them approached. He was a sleazy, slightly balding man dressed in plain cloth, with the look of a broker.
"Hey, welcome to Marshwood Village. Judging by how you're dressed, you're new mercenaries, right? There are plenty of chances to make a fortune in this town—whether you can seize them is another matter!"
Victor looked at his bald head and replied with a subtle expression, "Hehe, I believe that by meeting you, we've already caught the tail of an opportunity."
The man immediately burst into laughter. "Wonderfully said, young man! The moment I saw you, I knew you had a bright future ahead of you and would make a fortune. I'm a merchant, and I happen to have an excellent business proposition for you.
"You know there are many wild wolves in the forest, and their pelts can be exchanged for Orens. Without question, my buying price is the best in all of Marshwood Village.
"So I think we can work together. You gather ten wolf pelts from the forest for me, and I'll give you a full hundred Orens. You won't find a