Ignoring the pleasantries, Field nodded and answered without hesitation, "I need a carpenter. I heard you recruited Greyhound. Since you're willing to help, you could let me have him. Or I could buy him from you. My territory needs someone to do carpentry."
The corner of Cooch's mouth twitched. I was only being polite, and you actually took me seriously.
"Uh... I'm afraid that won't be possible. Fulan City needs a carpenter to build stables. It's urgent. Without stables, without stables, the territory's livestock industry could suffer serious losses. Surely you wouldn't want to see your younger brother's territory suffer?"
"All right, then." Field pursed his lips, putting on a disappointed expression, looking as aggrieved as a two-hundred-pound child. Inside, however, he sneered.
Cooch nearly laughed at Field's expression.
Still the same weak, useless fool. He hasn't changed a bit. What a disgrace to the noble blood of the Ross Family.
Keeping a straight face, Cooch consoled him. "Yielding to others is a noble virtue. You have always been an honorable nobleman."
"Then you can have priority. After all, I do spoil my little brother." Field shrugged, gave Cooch a long look, then turned and left.
"Hahaha, what a spineless coward. Father, did you see how aggrieved he looked? Like a sick dog." Cooch's son, Lance, could no longer contain himself. As soon as Field left, he burst into mocking laughter. "He didn't even dare fight for a carpenter."
"Keep your voice down. He's still a nobleman. We must show basic humility when we see him." Cooch did not take Field seriously either. He shifted his enormous belly a couple of times, then offered his analysis. "Field might never have entered the Northern Frontier Province. I suspect he sneaked straight here to indulge himself. We must inform the baron as soon as possible. A living Field could take a sizable share of the family estate."
Field's stepmother had nearly drained the old Count dry. The time to divide his inheritance was probably close at hand.
As Adrian's financial adviser, the richer Adrian became, the richer Cooch became. A little tampering with the accounts would give him enough illicit profit to live in luxury for several lifetimes.
"But what if he really did enter the Northern Frontier Province and came out unharmed? You never know with luck, after all."
Cooch nodded. "Then he might be here to buy supplies. Lance, send someone to find out where he's going. I'll get the cargo loaded as quickly as possible. We'll leave tomorrow morning."
"Yes, Father." Lance flashed a sly smile.
Meanwhile, Field took a sheet of parchment from inside his clothes. His shopping list was written on it.
"I need to buy some slaves. Nightfall Territory is desperately short of workers. Then there are magic items, cloth, and food. Sigh, we're short of everything."
The money had barely settled into his hands before he was throwing it into the fire.
Seeing Field study his list as though nothing had happened, Iron Hammer felt indignant on his lord's behalf. He worked up the courage to ask, "My lord, what about the carpenter? How about I beat up that old bastard and take him back?"
"I have it under control. Let's give things a little time to play out." Field smiled faintly, unwilling to say more. "Let's buy the Mist-Driving Lamps first."
"All right, I'll do as you say." Iron Hammer scratched his head sheepishly, not understanding what Field was waiting for.
Field arrived at the church. Anyone who could collect taxes from the Royal Family and the nobility was naturally filthy rich. All four walls of the church were covered in expensive stained glass depicting stories of the God of Light. In the sunlight, the glass glittered gold in a dazzling array of colors.
He found the Church's elderly priest staring absentmindedly at a nun's curves.
"I need Mist-Driving Lamps and Purification Potions. How much?" Field cleared his throat.
The elderly priest startled. "Ahem. Oh, a lamb seeking divine protection. Welcome. Let me make this clear first: Mist-Driving Lamps are not a matter of money. This is called devotion and atonement! A Mist-Driving Lamp requires an offering of twenty-five gold coins, and a Purification Potion requires one gold coin. May the Goddess of Light bless you."
Profiteering. Pure, unadulterated profiteering.
Field had calculated that quickly clearing the corruption from one mu of farmland required three vials of Purification Potion. A Mist-Driving Lamp, meanwhile, lasted only about twenty-five days. Merely staying in his territory and purifying farmland would burn through more than twenty gold coins a day.
Purifying the well was even more terrifying. He estimated that it would take eighty vials of Purification Potion before the water was safe to drink.
And that was without Field going all out to reclaim the land!
"Fine. I'll take everything you have." Field had no desire to deal with religious charlatans, but only the Church carried these special products. Even the Royal Family did not possess the secret formulas.
The elderly priest's eyes lit up. His irritation at being interrupted vanished, and his smile creased his face like the bark of an old locust tree.
"Wait! I'm willing to make a larger offering." A large-nosed man walked in and produced a Gold Coins Certificate. "I'm willing to offer the God of Light ten more gold coins. Please let me have all the divine gifts."
The priest's hand paused, and his smile bloomed brighter than a chrysanthemum. "Wonderful, wonderful. I can sense that your devotion is greater."
"Twenty," Field countered expressionlessly.
The large-nosed man said with an obnoxious grin, "Twenty-one gold coins."
"Thirty!"
"Thirty-one!"
"Fine. They're yours." Field yielded decisively. His brows knitted as his mind raced.
Could this guy be a shill for the Church? Did I pick an unlucky day to go out? Why is everything going wrong?
Regardless, Field was not willing to be taken for a ride. Thirty gold coins was already a steep price. He could not guarantee that he would get lucky enough to discover Black Pearl Grapes Wine again.
But did you really think you could just snatch what I wanted?
Whether you're with the Church or not, if you take my things, you'd better be ready to pay the price.
Watching the large-nosed man take the goods away, Field handed a small bag of gold coins to a guard and whispered a few words to him. Then he continued shopping as though nothing had happened.
"Hahahaha!" Just as he reached the corner, Field heard the large-nosed man's wild laughter behind him. "Did you see his face? Funnier than a circus clown."
Cooch's son, Lance, ran out of an alley, his face alight with excitement. "How did it feel to toy with a nobleman? Fun?"
"An incredible experience. I'll have it carved on my gravestone. My children will all be proud of me." The large-nosed man planted his hands on his hips and laughed smugly for a while, but then a wave of belated fear struck him. "But Lance, he's still a nobleman. Will we really be all right?"
"Of course. With Baron Adrian protecting us, there's nothing to fear. Field is famous for being a coward. Baron Adrian tormented his sweetheart to death back then, and didn't he get away with it just fine?"
"Haha, now that's funny." The two exchanged vicious jokes for a while.
Grinning, Lance nudged the bearded man's back with his elbow and laughed. "Let's keep messing with him. But we'll have to return the goods later. If my father finds out I misappropriated this much money, he'll definitely kill me. Haha."
Before you continue