"Okay, that's troublesome," Bill replied politely.
"Then I won't disturb the guests' meal. Please enjoy it," David said with a bow before turning and walking out the door, his servants following closely behind. The door clicked shut behind them.
Bill glanced at the closed door. John, ever cautious, stepped forward, peering through the gap to observe the hallway. Once he confirmed that nothing seemed amiss, he returned to his place at the table.
Seeing John come back, Bill waved him over, gesturing that they should eat together.
"Wow! This fish soup is excellent. Come, let's enjoy it. After such a busy day, we deserve a good meal," Bill said, lifting the ceramic bowl to his lips and taking a generous sip.
John didn't hesitate. He picked up his own bowl and joined Bill, sipping the soup with quiet satisfaction. Though technically master and servant, their relationship had evolved over years of business collaboration—they were more like partners. Bill handled market operations, while John ensured logistics and security ran smoothly.
After a sip, John set his bowl down and asked, taking another dish, "Now that we've settled here, what's the next step? We still have some savings, but that's our business capital. We can't spend it recklessly."
Bill swallowed the bite he had in his mouth before replying vaguely, "I've considered what you said. Tomorrow, we'll go to City Hall together to finalize the land issue. After that, we can find a way to sell the wines we brought. From what I've heard, wines are currently in high demand in Oros. To ensure food security, Prince Gaimon hasn't allowed local grain to be used for winemaking. This means all the wine on the market is imported—limited supply, high prices. Our wine should sell well."
John's brow furrowed with concern. "If His Royal Highness doesn't allow brewing, does that mean our plan to open a brewery is ruined?"
Bill's lips curled into a small, pleased smile. "Don't worry. We're not here to seize an existing brewery. Oros is growing rapidly, and there are opportunities everywhere. We can start with other ventures now, and when brewing is permitted, we can return to our original plan. For now, our priority is to seize opportunities and make a fortune."
John felt a little more at ease, though he couldn't help asking, "You say there are opportunities everywhere… what kind of business are you thinking of? I'd like to prepare in advance."
Bill shook his head slightly, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Not decided yet. Over the next few days, we'll explore Oros and the surrounding Wende Territory. Once we understand the local market, we can plan carefully. There's no rush. Today, we eat well and rest. Tomorrow, we start thinking."
With that, he dug into his meal with gusto. John observed silently, recognizing the unspoken understanding they had developed over years. Bill made decisions; John followed. Nothing more needed to be said.
Feeling his own hunger, John finally allowed himself to eat properly, savoring the meal as the night passed quietly. By morning, the two were up early, preparing for their day in the city.
Their morning routine was simple: wash their faces with cold water, gargle, and dress. No elaborate rituals like the nobles—they simply prepared to face the day.
Descending the stairs, they were greeted by David, cheerful as ever. "Good morning, my guests! Would you like some fresh bread and oatmeal? Just baked this morning. Filling your stomach will make the day feel lighter."
Bill and John nodded, accepting the offer. David guided them to a wooden table in the hall—modest but immaculately clean.
"Manager, two beers first. I haven't had any all night, and my mouth feels bland," Bill called out with a grin.
"Very well," David replied promptly.
Soon, the breakfast was served: steaming oatmeal, sliced white bread, and a side of fried bacon. Bill quickly assembled a sandwich—bread, bacon, bread—and took a large bite. Moments later, the beer arrived. Bill lifted the glass and drank half in one go.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, inhaling deeply. "Barley beer… they added a bit too much water. Taste is weak."
John immediately interjected, half amused, half exasperated. "Bill, this isn't your workshop. Don't impose your standards here. The beer tastes fine. Eat and enjoy—we have City Hall to visit. If we linger, we'll end up in line for hours."
Bill realized he had been overly critical. He chuckled, shook his head, and continued his meal silently. Neither their conversation nor their presence disturbed the other guests. In a short while, breakfast concluded, and the two walked out of the inn calmly, ready to face the city.
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