Reborn As A Beastman With A System

"Brother-in-law, buying so many slaves all at once... you must be gearing up for some grand scale sugar cane farming and brewing," Fisher remarked, quickly taking in the sight of the ragged beastmen.

Their unexpected presence at the hotel hinted at a longer, more complex conversation to come, one that would no doubt weave together their fates once more.

"Indeed!" Logan affirmed, his voice cutting through the tension in the air.

He noticed Jean avoiding eye contact, the remnants of last night's disagreement still lingering between them. Logan offered an apologetic glance in her direction before turning his attention to his brother-in-law, Fisher. "Brother Fisher, what brings you here so early?" he inquired, genuinely curious.

Fisher, with a hint of urgency in his tone, replied, "Didn't I hear that you were back to sugar production?"

"And how much sugar have we this time?" Fisher probed further, his interest piqued.

Logan knew Fisher had overheard Jean's earlier remarks and had rushed over. Despite Fisher's involvement in the wine trade, he had sought deals with other merchants, a move that surprised Fisher. Yet, Fisher seemed to always have a contingency plan.

Regardless, in the wine business, sharing opportunities was acceptable, but in the sugar industry, Fisher was determined not to let anyone else claim what he deemed his rightful share. "So, you're in a rush to get the goods?" Logan asked, a light chuckle escaping him.

"I had planned to wait a couple of days for the wine to ferment before calling you," Logan explained, still smiling.

"No need to wait. There's a joint caravan departing this afternoon, and I want this batch of goods to go with it," Fisher declared, his decision final.

Logan understood the urgency. Delays could lead to complications or lost opportunities.

"A joint caravan?" Logan queried, though he already knew the answer.

He nodded as Fisher explained. The joint caravan was a collaborative effort among various traders, both small-scale and speculative big businessmen. This arrangement often became necessary when the costs of hiring private mercenary groups were too prohibitive or when no suitable group was available.

Smaller merchants couldn't afford such luxuries on their own, so they pooled resources for greater security on perilous journeys.

Meanwhile, Logan directed Tyton and others to take a hundred slaves they had recently acquired to the backyard to prepare a meal. They were all in a sorry state, dirty, hungry, and barely able to stand. It was crucial they regained some strength first.

Logan and Fisher engaged in a lively conversation, sharing insights about the human kingdom and its complex dynamics.

Soon, Fisher's transport team arrived, bustling and ready for action. They were there to collect the massive shipment of maltose, 1,736 kilograms derived from 11,000 kilograms of wheat.

Fisher, managing the logistics himself, declared as he prepared to depart, "I'm off now. Next time I'll be back for the sugar production, but really, Logan, seventeen hundred kilograms is still quite minimal."

He continued earnestly, "I hope you can ramp up the sugar production scale here soon! And I'm also eager to delve into wine production!" His excitement was palpable, envisioning the growth of his business empire with each new venture.

Watching the goods being loaded onto the cart, Fisher could almost see his business empire expanding before his eyes. "I know," Logan responded with a nod, watching as Fisher and his team set off.

Back in the hall, Logan eyed a pile of gold coins on the table, a smile spreading across his face. Jean, nibbling on a piece of maltose, observed him skeptically and remarked, "All this excitement over one hundred seventy-four gold coins?"

"Last night, I gave you five thousand gold coins and you weren't nearly this thrilled," she added, her tone tinged with dissatisfaction.

Logan turned to her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He scooped Jean up in his arms and playfully nibbled on her red hair. "What you don't see, my dear, is that this is my first taste of profit. It might not be much, but it marks the beginning of a constant stream of income."

He reflected on the seventeen days since leaving his tribe for Canyon City. Now, with two profitable ventures underway, he felt confident that financial worries for his tribe would soon be a thing of the past. They could even start to enact plans to expand their influence over other tribes.

With an entrepreneurial gleam in his eye, Logan mused, "The potential in winemaking is quite great, filled with untapped opportunities and strategies. It could be our cornucopia, endlessly fruitful, as long as it remains under my control."

"And it's not just about wine and sugar," he continued, his voice full of ambition. "With the right capital and technology, we can harness these commodities to forge a business empire for the Silver Mane tribe that could last centuries, perhaps even millennia."

Logan playfully blew the strands of hair from his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he gently nipped at Jean's fair cheek. "By the way, had you not reminded me, I might have forgotten how boldly you conspired against me last night!"

Jean playfully pushed him away, her cheeks flushing a bright red. "Stop it! You were the one who made the first move last night! And don't go biting people's faces; it's all slobbery and unseemly."

"Was it really me who started it?" Logan asked with a raised eyebrow, giving her another light peck on the cheek before trailing his lips across her face downwards moving to her neck, causing her to blush even deeper.

"Hmm...!!" Jean's response was a deeper shade of red, her voice a mere whisper.

"Then stay tonight. I was rather out of sorts last night and didn't even realize it was me who initiated," Logan suggested, his tone soft yet teasing.

He truly had been bewildered, perhaps a touch overwhelmed by his draconic instincts, and his memory of the night was hazy.

"No...no...no, I can't tonight, I... it's just, well, I'm a bit sore..." Jean stammered, her hands covering her flushed face.

"It hurts?" Logan asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"I meant just to hold you through the night. What were you thinking?" he teased further.

"I hate you, I'm not talking to you anymore!" Jean retorted, her embarrassment peaking as she slipped from Logan' lap and covered her face.

Logan laughed heartily, the sound echoing through the room.

...

In the backyard, the recently freed beastmen slaves were taking a communal bath, emerging clean and donning new garments. They lined up in a row, all looking healthier than before, though still gaunt from their previous ordeal.

"Not bad, not bad at all!" Logan remarked as he surveyed the group. These young werewolves, though skinny, were brimming with potential. The detestable former slave owner had been right; they would regain much of their strength in just half a month.

"Let's have the meal served quickly, let them eat," he instructed Tyton, his tone firm yet kind.

Turning back to Tyton, he added, "And tell them, as long as they serve me faithfully for two years, they will be freed from their slave status. Moreover, if they choose to pay a sum thereafter, they can leave here freely." Logan's words carried a promise of a new life, a stark contrast to the harshness they had known.

"This... they are slaves..." Tyton stammered, clearly taken aback by the directive, and even Jean looked on in surprise.

The notion of what a slave represented was stark, essentially viewed as less than human. A slave's life was wholly controlled by their master; they could be subjected to labor without pay, punishment, or worse, without any recourse. Not even divine intervention was expected in the plight of a slave.

"Slaves? No, they are not just slaves; they are our compatriots. Haven't you noticed they look just like us?" Logan challenged the conventional view sharply. "If we enslave our own people, how could we ever face the beast god? I believe even he would not forgive such actions!"

"Go, do as I've instructed!" Logan commanded firmly.

"Yes!" Tyton replied, his voice carrying a mix of respect and astonishment. Each decision this young chief made seemed to defy tradition, yet somehow led to unexpectedly positive outcomes. His respect for Logan deepened, though he remained inwardly stunned by the radical empathy shown towards their own kind.

What a perplexing world. And those damnable slave owners.

"You are indeed a very special person," Jean confessed, her admiration evident as she watched Logan. "I've always wondered why you were so captivating to me."

"Now I understand!" she exclaimed, a look of realization washing over her. The idea that they were all compatriots had never occurred to her; born into privilege, she had never needed to question where her comfort came from.

In her view, she was among the nobility of the beastmen world, far removed from the harsh realities faced by others.

However, Logan' words sparked a profound shift in her perspective, challenging her to rethink her views on freedom, kinship, and leadership.