As if afraid Barrel would grow legs and run away, Harvey Stone Skull clung to it. From a distance, it looked as though two Dwarves were standing there.
The ale was already fouled by the Dwarf's spit and beard, so Annan gave up on getting it back.
Harvey Stone Skull looked as triumphant as if he had won a battle. He buried his face in Barrel, drank deep, and let out a satisfied sigh.
"What did you call it again... Alcohol? Ale spirit... good name! No, bad name. Why not call it an ale Dwarf?" Harvey Stone Skull complained drunkenly.
"It just means the essence."
He asked how much the alcohol cost. "At least thirty gold Narls for a barrel!"
Annan hadn't set a price yet, but going by Harvey Stone Skull's estimate... a barrel held about fifty pounds of ale and took around two hundred pounds of grain to brew. In an ordinary part of Middle Earth, that much grain cost roughly ten silver coins...
Ten silver coins turned into thirty gold coins. The profit margin was even greater than Magic Films, which only strengthened Annan's resolve not to introduce Alcohol recklessly. A hundred percent profit could drive merchants mad. Three thousand percent... would undoubtedly cause widespread famine.
But to Annan, going out and making no money was as good as taking a loss...
As soon as he returned to the Wooden Cottage, he had Eldest Sister issue a decree encouraging residents to reclaim the Wasteland Fields and the Wildlands. Then, seeing Michael had time on his hands, he told him to modify a Wheelchair and have it ready soon.
Annan left the Wooden Cottage, activated the Magic Stone, and continued his tour with the Golem.
"Are you tired of long waits for your orders? Are you tired of