Dole was stunned. Ansael could actually say something like that?
But in the next moment, Dole frowned. If they really expelled him from the Apothecaries' Association, his fate probably would not be pleasant. Once he lost the protection of the apothecaries, the moment he stepped out that door, countless people would set their sights on him. No matter who captured him, he would likely never escape the misery of making potions for others day and night.
They were trying to force him!
Dole raised an eyebrow, looking frightened, but his lips curled into a mocking smile. "You're only a manager. Put bluntly, if I listen to you, then you're a manager. If I don't, then you're nothing. Showing off your authority before this lord—those who know better know you're just a manager. Those who don't might think you're an elder or even the president of the Association. Such great authority."
Dole looked at him somewhat speechlessly. A few days ago, before the Thunderstorm Potion existed, perhaps the other party really could have driven him out through his connections and abilities. But now, to drive him out would probably require the approval of the Association's upper ranks.
Sure enough, after he said those words, the other man's face darkened terribly.
Ansael's face turned green, then red with rage at Dole's words. He was about to explode, his aura surging even more fiercely, only to be blocked by the butler's aura and unable to fall upon Dole. He snapped furiously, "I may only be a manager, but my uncle is the Vice President of the Professional Association. Getting rid of you would be easy. Just you wait."
Upon hearing this, Dole's expression froze. Damn it, his uncle was the Vice President of the Professional Association—this...
He considered many things. Wizards were an