Watching Roderick cim his share of the profits, Divarak feels a sharp pang of jealousy.

  But since the goods don’t pass through his territory, he has no grounds to demand a cut.

  Just as he stews in envy, Henwell suddenly turns to him, “I can give you ten percent of the profits too, or some extraordinary materials.”

  Divarak blinks in surprise, then narrows his eyes cautiously, “Let me make this clear, I can’t help you start a war. I’m the Northwest Defense Chief of the kingdom now. If you attack, I’m the first in charge, and I won’t back down one bit.”

  Henwell ughs, “What are you saying? We’re good friends! Money’s meant to be shared. Don’t think so darkly of me.”

  Divarak’s suspicion deepens, “Don’t py that game! When you attacked me before, you sure didn’t think of me as a friend!”

  Henwell speaks earnestly, “Look, back then, greed blinded you. I had to hit you to wake you up. If we weren’t friends, I wouldn’t care about your fate at all, you’d be six feet under by now.”

  Divarak shows no gratitude, “Cut the crap! You never take losses. Tell me, what’s the price? I’ll say upfront, I do need a steady supply of extraordinary materials. But if your price is too high, I’ll walk away.”

  Henwell pulls a slip of paper from his pocket, pces it on the table, and pushes it toward Divarak.

  Divarak picks it up, scans the details, then frowns deeply.

  After a long pause, he asks, “How much extraordinary material is ten percent?”

  “Ten sets of extraordinary weaponry or ten magical artifacts, plus some rare items like Runestones. Mid-tier extraordinary potions—varied types, but always including cultivation aids. The potion quantity covers about five Battle Knights for a year.”

  ”We ship twice a year; this is the first shipment, so the quantity might be a bit smaller. Once the route stabilizes, the volume will definitely increase.”

  Divarak thinks for a moment longer. “Can you get magical scrolls?”

  Henwell looks at him in surprise, “Those are hard to preserve. Using them has many restrictions, and their effects aren’t as great as the legends say. Most importantly, they’re extremely expensive. If you want specific types, they have to be custom-made, and the price skyrockets.”

  Divarak’s excitement shows, “You really can get them? Money’s no object!”

  Henwell shrugs, “Alright, if you insist, I’ll see what I can do. But it’ll take a while, probably not this year.”

  Divarak quickly waves his hand, “No, no, I don’t need them right now. I just want to know you have the channel.”

  He then crumples the paper and pockets it, “I’ll find what you need. You know these things aren’t easy to get. The earliest solid news will come after your wedding. For this year’s extraordinary materials deal, I can pay upfront. If I still can’t secure it next year, you can cancel my future share. That’ll prove I’m incapable.”

  Henwell nods, “Deal. Remember to come early for my wedding. Most importantly, don’t show up empty-handed, bring a gift!”

  Both of them roll their eyes in unison.

  After conferring quietly with two neighboring allies, Henwell inspects the entire Peace Haven military.

  He pays special attention to the border fortress garrisons, bringing plenty of gifts and red envelopes with him.

  At nearly every fortress, Henwell drinks celebratory wine offered by the soldiers, just a bowl at each stop, but with so many fortresses scattered across Peace Haven, the scent of alcohol clings to him for over two weeks straight.

  Once he confirms the border defenses are solid, Henwell returns to Blood Hill Castle to prepare for the upcoming Midsummer Festival.

  Right after the festival comes harvest season, when Peace Haven’s agricultural production takes center stage.

  Following a month of harvesting and sowing autumn and winter crops, Henwell will officially enter the wedding preparation phase.

  Before the Midsummer Festival begins, Henwell slips quietly into the new district, keeping his arrival low-key, almost secret.

  Inside a private room on the fifth floor of a luxury hotel, a group waits tensely.

  These are the leaders of Peace Haven’s underworld factions.

  Evil and darkness never fully disappear. Wherever there’s light and justice, shadows lurk behind.

  Henwell can’t eliminate them, so he controls them tightly, preventing any filthy deeds that csh with his values.

  The notorious bosses of Peace Haven’s dark world sit obediently now, feigning composure.

  Usually ruthless and brutal, these leaders don sharp formal wear, grooming themselves meticulously—looking every bit like officials from the government departments.

  But since they rarely wear such formal clothes, they feel awkward.

  Still, they endure it all, struggling to recall the etiquette lessons they’ve learned these past few days.

  Today, they’re meeting a big shot—Horace, the Chief of the Constabury.

  He’s the one who holds their lives in his hands, the one who decides whether they eat or starve.

  Normally, they never get to see Horace.

  Many of these bosses have only met him once.

  Three years ago, when the Constabury was formed, Horace commanded just a few hundred men pulled straight from the barracks.

  To establish authority, Horace personally led these troops, going door to door based on a bcklist from the Military Intelligence Office targeting criminal organizations.

  No warnings, no expnations, no formal charges.

  For every gang he cracked down on, Horace killed half their members outright.

  Some weren’t guilty enough to deserve death, but most were scum who deserved to die multiple times over.

  In just two weeks, Horace wiped out every criminal faction in Peace Haven.

  Faced with well-equipped, highly trained Constabury soldiers fighting in formation, the gangs stood no chance.

  With blood and steel, Horace decred the Constabury’s birth and his own authority.

  It was then that many surviving gangsters lucked out and rose to become new bosses themselves.

  Since then, every order from Horace is treated like a royal decree by all gang members.

  But after that period, the bosses never saw Horace again.

  A few days ago, they suddenly received word from the Constabury: Horace wants to see them.

  The bosses nearly bolted on the spot, nervously reviewing if they’d broken any rules or if their subordinates had stepped out of line.

  After days of anxious anticipation, they finally face Horace now, hearts pounding with unease.