Selene presented Draven with a condition: every month, the Black Flag Territory must supply the lord's manor with two types of wine, ten barrels each, as a fixed provision.

  In exchange, the magical core tribute originally due starting next year would be waived. She wore a teasing smile, casting a sidelong glance at Draven.

  "You control two territories now in Black Flag Territory. By my count, this isn't a loss, right?" Selene's tone was casual, almost provocative.

  But Draven felt a very different taste inside. Not a loss? This was an outright profit!

  A slightly larger demonic beast could yield plenty of blood to brew large quantities of blood wine. Add a few simple ingredients, like cassava, and the cost was extremely low.

  As for the monkey liquor, all it took was a low-grade potion recipe mixed with some fruit, and the wine produced was quite decent. Each barrel held a large capacity, far exceeding the ten barrels Selene demanded.

  Calculations showed that the annual cost for supplying 240 barrels of wine to the lord's manor wouldn't even equal two low-grade magical cores. Yet just occupying one territory required paying tribute of 20 low-grade or one mid-grade magical core annually.

  Though the wine couldn't be freely traded, this fixed supply deal saved Black Flag Territory its heaviest expense.

  Still, Draven was not satisfied. His inner ambition and dissatisfaction pushed him to demand more.

  "Twenty barrels, no—twenty barrels of each kind!" he said firmly, looking Selene straight in the eye.

  "Black Flag Territory is willing to exchange these wines for the right to freely trade wine in Selene City."

  Selene's slender eyebrows raised slightly—she was clearly shocked by Draven's proposal. This was exactly what Draven had hoped for; he knew her surprise was his bargaining chip.

  Starting from her initial offer of ten barrels, she had already acknowledged that these wines' value far exceeded their raw material cost. The octopus workers had carefully refined the wine quality, making its price far higher than the cost.

  This meant that in her eyes, 240 barrels a year were worth about 20 low-grade magical cores.

  So Draven doubled the value, aiming to win permission for free trade.

  Sure enough, Selene fell silent for a moment, clearly hesitating.

  Then she raised the price: "Fifty barrels."

  "Thirty barrels, my lady—that's the best offer Black Flag Territory can make," Draven quickly countered, trying to keep the terms reasonable.

  A rare flicker of doubt crossed Selene's eyes; she seemed unsure whether Draven was sincere or bluffing.

  Putting that aside, such a deal was not difficult for her—it was actually very profitable. More importantly, she was beginning to take an interest in this werewolf chief.

  If Draven only wanted a simple wine deal, he could have made a supply agreement directly with the lord's manor without spending extra to gain free trade rights.

  His actions revealed some unusual intent. Caught between curiosity and suspicion, Selene finally nodded in agreement.

  With the deal made, Draven showed a satisfied smile.

  "Now, can you tell me why you're doing this?" Selene asked.

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  Draven thought for a moment, then replied after organizing his words:

  "Because Selene City is the heart of this land. Black Flag Territory's development depends on it."

  A gleam appeared in Selene's eyes, clearly pleased with the answer.

  Then, as if remembering something, her tone became casual:

  "You should know, once you reach mid-level chief, you can request a marriage alliance from our clan."

  Draven was briefly stunned but soon steadied himself and concealed the aura he had deliberately hidden.

  The lord-level perception was extremely sharp—Selene detected the moment he revealed any hint of it.

  She even began to regret mentioning that. Just as she expected Draven to request the alliance, he shook his head calmly and firmly.

  "Lady Selene, Black Flag Territory does not need to rely on marriage alliances for support."

  With that, Draven didn't linger, turning politely yet somewhat rudely to leave.

  Selene was left standing alone in the pavilion, motionless for a long time. The air was filled with a faint lingering aura of magic, and her gaze was calm and profound. After quite a while, she finally relaxed her expression, a subtle smile curling at the corners of her mouth.

  After leaving the lord's manor, Draven's mood grew complicated. Selene's attitude toward him had never become clear. Although they had reached an agreement, Selene showed no special warmth or favor toward him—at least not the kind of warmth or closeness he could easily perceive. She seemed to observe him from a lofty position, with a faint sense of aloofness.

  Draven felt as if an invisible force pressed down on him, preventing him from fully controlling the situation. He had thought things would go according to his plan smoothly, but never expected this outcome. The gap between expectation and reality stirred some dissatisfaction and confusion in his heart.

  What was even more puzzling was that obtaining the license to freely trade alcohol didn't seem to be a purely good thing. It felt like a signal loaded with complex meanings—sometimes drawing near, sometimes retreating—making him both want to accept it and resist it. That push-and-pull, that cold-and-hot feeling unsettled his mind.

  He shook his head, forcing himself not to dwell on these inscrutable thoughts. His gaze fell on the small metal badge in his hand, and Draven gave a sincere smile.

  It was a badge representing the lord's manor's official recognition. With it, Black Flag Territory's operations in Selene City would be officially protected.

  The tavern was too large and too conspicuous, likely to attract trouble. Black Flag Territory was not yet ready to run such a high-profile business.

  Draven's plan was to have Rurik open a small liquor shop. The location would be in front of their inconspicuous little stone house.

  They would set up a small stall by the door, put out a few barrels of wine, prepare some horn cups, and sell loose liquor. This area gathered many subhuman refugees who sought asylum in Selene City.

  It would not be an exaggeration to call this a slum—dirty, crowded, and harsh to live in. Just like their past, only when they occasionally earned some money would they allow themselves to sit in a tavern; most of the time they endured thirst and fatigue.

  Of course, the loose liquor couldn't be sold directly as the blood wine or monkey wine produced on their territory—that would be too easy to expose. Draven had already calculated the prices:

  One chunk of low-grade magical beast meat the size of a horn cup could be exchanged for a cup of wine. Selling the original liquor was not only expensive but would also raise suspicion from the lord's manor.

  So they planned to dilute it. Blood wine mixed with three barrels of ordinary cassava wine, monkey wine mixed with ordinary fruit wine. After mixing, the combined brew would be sold as raw mash. Although this method wasn't entirely honorable, it was practical and the prices were easier for the refugees of various races in the slum to accept.

  After a hard day's work, having a reasonably priced drink—even if mixed—was enough to bring comfort and satisfaction.

  Back in the stone house, Draven briefly updated Rurik about the cat-girl. For the time being, they didn't deal with her, but Draven solemnly handed Rurik a storage ring.

  It was a treasure he had painstakingly acquired from the Red Serpent. Draven had broken the binding of master recognition and entrusted it to Rurik. This ring was extremely precious, and Rurik treasured it so much that he didn't even dare wear it on his hand, keeping it safely tucked inside his clothes.

  "All the things you need to open the liquor shop, along with your personal supplies, are all here," Draven said, patting Rurik's shoulder with full expectation. "From now on, this shop is in your hands."

  The significance of this shop was far beyond just selling liquor. The burden on Rurik's shoulders was heavy, and Draven hoped he would do it well.

  Selling liquor was only the surface purpose. The real goal was to let Black Flag Territory take root in Selene City, to grasp the city's information and dynamics, and simultaneously attract more talent.

  This filthy and chaotic slum, by Draven's rough estimate, housed at least thirty to forty thousand residents of various races. This was the most neglected corner of Selene City, but precisely because of that, countless opportunities and potentials were hidden here.

  Not everyone had the talent, chance, or resources like Draven and his people. The vast majority of subhumans could only struggle to survive here, searching for a faint hope that belonged to themselves.