The boiling assembly hall was filled with representatives of various forces in Pramisburg. This hall had once been a church of the Church, built during the reign of Orlando V and now sixty years old. Sixty years ago, the Church had intended to use Pramisburg as a bridgehead to spread the Church’s doctrines through the Weimar Corridor into the Byron Empire, bringing the Byron Empire into the embrace of the Light God. When batches of clergy arrived in Pramisburg with pious hearts…

  There was no later.

  Apart from building a grand cathedral, they were tormented to death by the cheats, thieves, and robbers here. Not to mention spreading religion, several clergy even developed doubts about the Light God they believed in, their faith shaken, and were finally exiled to the Northern Dawn Prairie at the empire’s northernmost edge to live among barbarians.

  After the Church called Pramisburg "a place where even the sun cannot set," the newly built cathedral here was abandoned and became a place for refugees, the poor, and those without shelter. Before Pramisburg began its city renovation, this was the most famous "stinking place," filled with human and animal excrement, and populated by homeless vagrants and beggars covered in fleas who hadn’t bathed for months or even years.

  When Arno proposed renovating the entire city, this place was transformed at the first opportunity. The city lord’s mansion had no large venue suitable for a hall, but this place was perfect. Moreover, church architecture was often solemn and grand, making it unexpectedly suitable as a civic auditorium.

  The grand cathedral still emitted a strong fishy odor at this time. Due to the lack of cement, construction often used a composite adhesive made by mixing lime, plant ash, and fish glue. Fish glue, extracted from a type of translucent sea fish, had a very fishy smell that would only dissipate after the glue was completely dry.

  The lively crowd was not deterred by the fishy smell. Grouped in threes and fives, the leaders gathered together—today was a momentous day.

  Both the Slave Trade License and the Plunder License would be sold today. Everyone knew that whoever obtained one of these licenses meant a small collective would rapidly expand within two years until it became a colossal entity. Don’t underestimate the profits achievable in two years: the annual slave trade in Bell Province involved amounts exceeding 200,000 gold coins, and everyone knew that slave trading had almost no capital cost.

  Slaves were sourced from the Black Barbarians on the Great Western Plains and various tribes in the Salme Mountains. The cost of sending teams to capture these Black Barbarians was very low—each Black Barbarian cost only a few silver coins at most, but after training, they could be sold for ten to a hundred times that price.

  Plunder was even more so; it was a business with no capital investment—more effort meant more profit. Moreover, what the major forces truly valued about the Plunder License was not the profits from plunder itself but the fact that it granted them an officially licensed armed force, which was the key. Since a round of civil unrest during the reign of Orlando V, the empire had adopted a resolute attitude of eliminating local armed forces, suppressing any discovered immediately.

  In this era that could not be called a prosperous age, military force was the foundation for a family or organization to survive.

  In the chaotic auditorium, people constantly left their seats to contact other forces. Everyone knew that to obtain any license, relying solely on oneself was impossible. Only by uniting with other forces to form a new organization could they hope to secure a share in this venture.

  Chieftains who would have started a fight at the mere sight of each other now acted like good friends, discussing in small groups and privately dividing benefits. Several circles gradually formed in the scattered auditorium, with people passionately discussing all related matters.

  When the auditorium’s bell rang, the hubbub temporarily subsided, and countless expectant eyes fixed on the awe-inspiring figure on the auditorium’s podium.

  Arno!

  The people’s gazes were complex. Who could have imagined that not long ago, they had been discussing how this young city lord would leave the city in disgrace, yet now they treated him with caution. In the past month, the forces that had entrenched themselves in Pramisburg for a long time had been uprooted one by one and obliterated. Arno, who had accomplished this great feat without deploying a single soldier, relying solely on his own means, was already dimly regarded as a mythical figure in these people’s minds.

  Arno wore formal attire, supported himself on the lectern, and picked up a gavel to knock on it. The dull thud echoed in the auditorium. He curled his five fingers into a fist, brought it to his mouth, and coughed lightly. "First, we will sell the Slave Trade License. Before the sale, I need to provide a brief explanation." He swept his gaze over the crowd, and no one could meet his eyes for more than three seconds. Nodding in satisfaction, he continued, "I will organize a law enforcement team to combat illegal trade practices. Throughout Bell Province, all unlicensed slave traders and markets will be within our scope of action, ensuring your rights and interests. This law enforcement team has an initial budget of 500 men, and the number may increase later. These 500 men will all be selected from local young people in Pramisburg."

  Many residents had gathered outside the auditorium—this was a major event. Many attentive residents had surrounded the area, hoping to get news and conjecture about Pramisburg’s future changes. When the people inside passed on Arno’s words, those outside were immediately cheered. A 500-strong law enforcement team composed of locals was not large, but it meant the city lord was indeed working to develop the city as he had said. 500 men were just the beginning, and 500 families, over 4,000 people, would benefit from this.

  Arno dimly heard the cheers outside the church. He smiled and continued, "We will combat illegal slave trade at its source. I have decided to establish a Black Barbarian Nature Reserve. Only organizations with an operation license may capture slaves. Apart from them, anyone who dares to capture slaves will be eliminated by me without hesitation!"

  "Now, we begin the sale of the first Slave Trade License; the highest bidder will obtain it. Of course, I will leave professional matters to professional people. Please welcome our auctioneer."

  Arno stepped aside from the hosting position, and a professional auctioneer from an auction house in Milin walked up with a smile. After bowing to Arno, he stood at the hosting position, while Arno retreated to the audience and sat in the middle of the first row.

  Celeste had not come today—this kind of occasion was not suitable for her. Sitting beside Arno was Alma. Everyone knew the brothel license was reserved for this woman, so Arno did not go through the pretentious motions of a well-known fact and directly entrusted it to her.

  Alma was now in high spirits, being the first to enjoy various benefits. Previously, there had been two other businesses in Pramisburg engaged in this trade, but now they had either been ordered by Arno to leave the city or accept Alma’s incorporation. Meanwhile, in the recently concluded police captain bid, the selected police captain and new officers had swept the city’s brothels, making Alma’s business so popular that customers had to queue. Many prostitutes complained that after work every day, both their mouths were unable to close—their upper mouths smiled because business was too good, with each prostitute earning so much they could barely walk, while their lower bodies were exhausted, with almost no rest between clients.

  She had already borrowed some prostitutes from other cities, yet still could not meet the demand of a city approaching 300,000 people. For this, Harvey had also sent a batch of 50 high-quality female slaves to temporarily sustain Alma’s business. Every day, Alma woke up laughing, staring blankly at piles of money.

  Of course, Arno also took a 30% cut: 10% in cash, and the other 20% as funds for developing informants, to be allocated by Alma. Each account was handled by a dedicated person, and weekly accounts were reviewed and signed by Arno before being deposited into the city lord’s mansion treasury.

  "Lord, are you satisfied with them?" Alma leaned close and asked in a low voice.

  The corner of Arno’s mouth twitched. If Alma hadn’t brought it up, he would have almost forgotten that Vokes had been in the stable for nearly half a month. But the thought of that wretch working in the stinking stable made every one of Arno’s pores feel comfortable. Arno had no intention of driving Vokes away because Vokes was still useful—very useful. In the imperial capital, there were always women obsessed with men like Vokes.

  He nodded. "It’s passable, but let this be the last time."

  Alma smiled and nodded—she didn’t take "let this be the last time" to heart. Men always said that!

  With the auctioneer’s witty remarks, the first auction soon began. Perhaps aware that Harvey had recently joined the city lord’s camp, everyone gave him some face. The first Slave Trade License was finally sold for 13,000 gold coins. Harvey returned to his seat with a smile, holding an exquisite gift box. Inside, on a red velvet cushion, lay a City Lord’s Decree granting him permission to capture and trade slaves, listing his powers and obligations. At the bottom were the city lord’s seal, Arno’s handwritten signature, and the embossed emblem of the Golden Thorns.

  "I must thank you, Lord," Harvey said, sitting to Arno’s right. "I know getting this license for such a sum is due to your favor. I won’t spout high-sounding praises—just watch my actions in the future!"

  Arno laughed. "Do your work well—that’s the greatest return to me!"