"Commander, I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?"
Frost reported the news to Zhuang Xiaolin.
In the days of September, the sun outside was not unbearably hot, and the breeze carried a slight chill.
The leaves on the trees lining the streets had gradually begun to yellow, some already falling away.
A large patch of yellow leaves had gathered outside the pharmacy. Watching the scene from the second floor, Zhuang Xiaolin could not help feeling sentimental.
Crownslayer stood to one side as Mozzie delivered the report.
Ever since the maid outfit incident that day, Zhuang Xiaolin had not considered teasing her again. Giving her a little sense of shame had only been meant to make her remember what she had done.
"Go ahead. Tell me the good news first, then the bad."
Zhuang Xiaolin glanced at Crownslayer, who stood beside him with her head turned away, then spoke to Mozzie.
"Our reputation has grown a little too big."
"That's the good news. What's the bad news?"
"Uh, the bad news is that our reputation has grown a little too big."
The room fell silent for a moment. As a bona fide descendant of the dragon, Zhuang Xiaolin naturally understood the double meaning. This news was also a double-edged sword to him—a Sword of Damocles.
There were two ways for people to obtain greater profits. The first was to expand their original production scale, change the existing model, or make improvements. The second was to take risks. Those risks could be anything, but as long as there was profit to be made, people would cast aside their original humanity.
Marx had once said that if capital had a fifty percent profit, it would take risks; if it had a hundred percent profit, it