A Villain's Way of Taming Heroines

The knocking made the wealthy Mr. Reginald slightly raise his eyebrows, "Come in."

The guard at the door opened it, "Sir, there are two... farmers. They say they want to discuss business with you."

"... Farmers?"

Reginald was momentarily taken aback, then smiled with interest, "Interesting, let them in."

The guard nodded, then turned to shout outside, "The master invites you in!"

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Two men in coarse hemp clothes walked in from outside. The tall, handsome young man looked nervous, while the unremarkable, stocky man appeared quite composed.

"You..." Reginald, with his leg crossed, showed no disdain, merely asking lazily, "wish to conduct business with me? Hmm?"

"We've heard," Laurel stared at the man behind the desk, puffing smoke, "Mr. Hegel, you are the wealthiest in Pelican City."

Reginald Hegel laughed heartily, "So what if I am? Do I look like some philanthropist to you?"

"If you were, it would mean you're a wise man indeed."

James shivered at Reginald's laughter, but Laurel remained calm, stating, "Only a man not wise enough couldn't maintain a vast fortune in this damned world."

The merchant removed the cigar from his lips, leaning forward slightly with a grin, and said, "Interesting, do go on."

"And as a person of wiseness, lord, you should be aware of the changes that are about to sweep over the Pelican City… no, the whole Watson domain."

Laurel took a deep breath, his trembling fingertips betraying his lack of the calm composure he presented: "You must already be aware of the fields outside the city, brimming with magic... In just seven days, the harvest can increase four or five fold. This means that, in a short span of time... Pelican City could produce an abundance of crops for export."

He stepped forward, and the guards who had entered with them instinctively reached for their swords, but Reginald shook his head, signaling them to stand down.

"Please... take a moment to 'taste' this wheat, just smelling its scent is enough."

Laurel first wiped his palms on his clothing to dry the sweat, then took a handful of wheat from his pocket and placed it on the desk.

Reginald, driven by curiosity, took a small handful and sniffed it. In an instant, his pupils contracted.

He had never... never before smelled such fragrant wheat! Even the wheat procured from the most fertile fields could not exude such an aroma.

What was initially mere curiosity for Reginald turned into increasingly rapid breathing.

"It seems you now understand the quality of this wheat, lord," Laurel said, "This quality, coupled with its terrifying yield, could in a short time..."

He did not finish his sentence, but Reginald, gasping for breath, said:

"The immense yield could satisfy the common folk, and the high quality could also cater to the elite... If this wheat were to flood the market at low prices, in a short time..."

Reginald spoke with a chilling tone, his expression akin to a ravenous wolf at the height of its hunger.

"...Destruction, then, domination."

He whispered thus, his body trembling slightly, but it was purely out of excitement, an extreme, uncontrollable excitement.

This sent a shiver down the spine of the onlooking James, who began to fear, uncertain of what would come next, but certain that it would not bode well.

Reginald then extinguished his cigar, stood up, and stared intently at Laurel:

"Do you wish to discuss this business with me? To distribute this wheat throughout the entire Watson territory?"

"Yes, I believe you have the power to do so."

Reginald continued to gaze at Laurel with an intensity unbearable to the average person, and after a long moment, he finally said:

"Aren't you afraid... that I will plunder everything you possess?"

"If people like you were to do so, then we should have started with nothing," Laurel replied candidly.

"The fields do not belong to us, the potion is not ours, and even the crops that are grown will not be ours."

"But... somehow, all of it inexplicably belongs to us."

Under James's bewildered gaze, Laurel clenched his fists, his head bowed slightly, his voice hoarse as he said, "So, I am gambling that for some reason... you will not, or cannot, forcibly take away what we now possess."

In the office, there reigned an absolute silence.

James was tense and bewildered, Laurel bowed her head in silence, and on Reginald's desk, the last wisps of cigar smoke rose.

"Hehehe... Hahahaha!"

The merchant laughed heartily, overjoyed: "You're a farmer? You, of all people, a farmer? It's utterly unbelievable... truly beyond belief."

"Marvelous!"

He looked at Laurel with admiration, loudly proclaiming: "This deal, I'm in. All the food you two can provide in seven days, I'll take it all, name your price!"

"We do not sell directly; we seek a partnership."

Laurel, staring intently at the face of the tycoon he never thought he'd meet in her lifetime, spoke deliberately: "I've spoken at length with you, and I hope, you won't consider me... a fool."

Reginald looked at Laurel for a moment, then grinned and asked: "What's your name?"

"Laurel, Laurel Morlamo."

"Very well, Mr. Morlamo."

Reginald took out a whole box of cigars from his desk drawer and handed it to Laurel.

"I appreciate intelligence and prefer to collaborate with the intelligent. You're certainly no fool, and far from a farmer; that title does not suit you."

"For now, at least." Laurel accepted the cigar, emphasizing, "If that farm remains mine, I might well be a farmer for life."

"Ha, no one will try to take what's yours, rest assured."

Reginald came around from behind his desk, not minding Laurel's slightly muddy clothes, and patted him on the shoulder: "This is a gift from fate to you, and no one can take it away."

"A person both fortunate and intelligent... We will enjoy a fruitful collaboration, Mr. Morlamo."

"On that note, I'd like to make an audacious request." Laurel, caressing the cigar box, spoke softly.

"Oh, let's hear it."

"I hope you can provide an advance on the payment," the man said.

*