The moment Arno opened his mouth to speak, everyone in the grand hall fell silent as if bound by a shared intuition, their eyes fixed on his boots, not daring to lift their heads even a fraction higher.

  "To be honest, I do not like you," Arno began, his first words a shock that made some bodies tense. "But…" His tone deepened, and the sound of labored breathing cut through the otherwise still hall. Arno extended his right index finger—slender, long, with a copper ring at the base—and gave it a slight wave. "Where there is light, there is darkness. Though I dislike you, I have never rejected you."

  "In Pramisburg, as in other places, there exists a unique yet similar mode of governance. I, along with the nobility and ruling class, oversee the overt governance, while you operate quietly in the shadows, ruling those shadowed realms. For a long time, this unspoken rule of the game has dominated. But today’s events—every single one—convey the same message to me: we can no longer allow such a twisted rule of the game to proceed in an undesired direction."

  "It is time to change the rules of the game."

  "First, regarding today’s casino robbery and the stabbing of casino enforcers, I offer my regrets. But equally detestable is the murder of civilians. I have learned that these casinos, apart from siphoning large sums from civilians daily, also force people to sell their children through usury, destroying countless ordinary families." Arno’s expression was grave and sorrowful, his voice growing deeper. "As the city lord, I govern this land and all within it, much like a parent to their children. I cannot bear to see such casinos exist in my ‘home,’ oppressing and even murdering my ‘children’—thus, reforms are necessary for the casino sector."

  "From this day, all existing casino operations are officially terminated. Future operations will be awarded through bidding approved by the city lord’s mansion. Eligible bidders meeting the requirements will compete, and the highest bidder will secure the right. Pramisburg will initially issue three ‘casino operation licenses’ and one ‘special license for small-scale private lending.’ Licensed operators will be protected as legal entities; unlicensed operations will be illegal."

  Several faction leaders with casino interests paled. Casinos had existed in the city for years—now being shut down abruptly? Who would compensate for the losses? The new licensing system would erode profits, making it clear the city lord’s mansion aimed to profit, and none too subtly.

  These men dared not voice their anger but overlooked the excited glances exchanged by weaker factions, those with no casino stakes. Previously shut out from the lucrative trade, they now saw opportunity. If one couldn’t afford a license alone, pooling resources with others made sense. Some mentally drafted plans to form alliances post-meeting, determined to seize a license from the dominant players.

  Alma raised an eyebrow but remained silent. Harvey stole a glance at her, also mute.

  In the silence, a middle-aged man in leather armor stood, bowed, and spoke. "Respected City Lord, I do not question your decision, but I ask for clarity: once a license is acquired, may we operate freely? Will the ‘protection’ you mentioned shield us from malicious actions and attacks?"

  "First, licenses are valid for two years, after which bidding will reopen, and the highest bidder will prevail again. For operations, I will provide a standard framework; you may adjust non-core details freely. Regarding protection, you are correct: the city lord’s mansion has both the duty and the necessity to safeguard legal operators. Infringing on your interests is an affront to the mansion’s authority."

  The middle-aged man’s excitement was palpable, his eyes shining—clearly tempted. Small factions like his couldn’t afford failed investments; Arno’s guarantee meant protection from bullying by stronger forces.

  After he sat, Arno continued, "Reforms extend to other sectors. Alongside casino licenses, I will issue one brothel license, two slave trade licenses, and three plunder licenses."

  Earlier discontent faded, replaced by intrigue. The single brothel license was clearly for Alma’s monopoly, but the slave trade and plunder licenses—their names and quantities—demanded attention.

  "As the name implies, slave trade licenses authorize capturing and trading slaves. Previously, slave-catching was morally condemned and partially illegal under imperial law, operating in a gray area without protection. With a license, slave capture within my designated zones will be legal." Pausing to sip tea, Arno continued, "Pramisburg and its surroundings will ban unlicensed slave activities. I will deploy an enforcement team to crack down on illegal traders across Bell Province, ensuring legal merchants’ rights are protected."

  Harvey, seated below, trembled with excitement. If realized, he’d monopolize Bell Province’s slave trade, perhaps even the empire’s. Despite the title of Pramisburg’s largest slave trader, over twenty rival groups ate into his profits. Legal monopoly meant dominance—all he needed was unwavering loyalty to the city lord.

  Blair felt Harvey’s hostile gaze but was perplexed, instinctively glaring back—only to receive a thin, enigmatic smile.

  Crazy bastard.

  As murmurs rose, Arno raised a hand to restore silence. "Plunder licenses differ in acquisition. They authorize state-sanctioned robbery…"

  The hall erupted in shock. State-sanctioned robbery? Unprecedented! Yet mercenary leaders leaned in—they often turned to banditry between jobs, risking execution for every raid. Legalized plunder?

  "Plunder licenses will be awarded based on the proportion of loot surrendered. Bidders offering the highest share of plunder will win. Operations are restricted to designated zones; exceeding them makes you liable to imperial law."

  Mercenary captains exchanged glances, then looked away, each calculating privately. Plunder was more profitable than escort work. Even surrendering most loot was worthwhile for legal protection and endless raiding.

  As everyone weighed the implications, one truth emerged: the fallen factions hadn’t been unlucky—they’d underestimated Arno’s audacity. Opposing him was suicidal. By dawn, news would spread: the city’s power now orbited the city lord. Their fortunes depended on him; his rise meant theirs, his fall their ruin.

  The landscape of this city had already undergone a fundamental transformation!