Reborn As A Beastman With A System

David had always been wary of tales too good to be true, especially in the bustling trade of wines. When word reached him of Logan, a reputed beastman winemaker, claiming to produce a wine as clear as spring water and as smooth as silk, he was intrigued yet skeptical.

David, a smaller-scale wine merchant, possessed a keen blend of pride and pragmatism. He knew that harnessing such a unique product could significantly expand his business empire.

When they met, Logan, with a dismissive wave of his hand, chuckled. "Mr. David, there's no need for formality. I had Boss Gando summon you here simply to explore a partnership in this venture."

"This exquisite brew is called rice liquor," Logan continued, his eyes alight with the enthusiasm of a true craftsman. "Currently, large-scale production isn't feasible, but within a month, we should be producing tens of thousands of kilograms."

"The deal is straightforward," Logan laid out the terms. "You'll acquire each unit from me at five silver coins. As for how much you mark it up, where you sell it, or to whom, it's all up to you!"

The gathered beastman merchants buzzed with astonishment at such uncomplicated terms.

David, known among his peers as 'David the Lion' for his bold business acumen, nodded thoughtfully. "I understand the constraints on production. How much of this liquor can be made available immediately, before scaling up?"

Logan had only recently settled in Canyon City, a location that puzzled many given his caliber. Yet, for David, this was a fortuitous twist of fate, access to a master vintner was a rare opportunity not to be missed.

"In ten days, we'll have nearly 10,000 kg ready. However, another major trader has already claimed half, leaving about 5,000 jins for new partners," Logan explained after a moment of consideration.

This batch would be his initial foray into the local market, having committed to a sizable portion to Fisher, another influential trader and his brother-in-law.

Logan planned to employ a team of beastmen in the production process, intent on teaching them the delicate art of distillation. This decision was strategic; despite the risk of his brewing secrets being divulged, Logan was not one to linger. His true domain was with his tribe, not tethered to a city or confined to the craft of winemaking.

Thus, for Logan, entrusting the ongoing production of both wine and sugar to others was not just a necessity but a calculated step in his broader plan.

Logan knew that any potential defection among his ranks necessitated a meticulous study of his security measures. "A defection wouldn't happen so swiftly!" he mused, undisturbed at the prospect of training a new winemaker. His secret lay in the special distiller's yeast purchased from a well-known mall; without it, no one could replicate his unique liquor.

They could, at best, produce a simple fermented rice wine. "I'll bolster our defenses over time," he decided.

"Five thousand kg?" David the Lion asked, his voice tinged with anticipation.

"I'll take them all, Master Logan," David declared with a finality that echoed through the room.

"Absolutely not!" Logan responded sharply.

"Mr. David, if you take everything, what will be left for us?" protested a nearby beastman merchant, his agitation palpable as he and others turned toward David with anxious expressions.

"Mr. David, I can't allocate the entire batch to you alone," Logan interjected swiftly, the urgency clear in his voice. "Besides my prior arrangement with Boss Gando, it's crucial in business to keep things equitable. We all need to have a share."

"Given Master Logan's position, I'll relent 20 percent of my claim," David replied, adjusting his stance slightly.

"Twenty percent? That's merely a thousand kg. That's far too little!" another merchant exclaimed.

"That's right, we need another 40 percent," yet another chimed in.

"Mr. David, you can't take 80 percent for yourself while ten of us scramble over the remaining 20 percent. That's simply too domineering!" a voice cried out from the crowd.

The collective discontent among Gando and the other merchants was palpable, they felt David's aggressive tactics were unfair, especially since Gando had been the first to forge a connection with Logan. To think he would end up sharing mere leftovers was intolerable.

"My entire shipment is destined for the human kingdoms," Gando finally spoke up, his voice filled with frustration. "I'm already short four thousand kilograms. Without it, I won't even cover the expenses of the mercenaries I've hired." This candid revelation highlighted the dire stakes involved, pushing the group toward a more desperate negotiation.

"In this case, I'll relinquish five hundred kilograms. That's my final offer," declared David the Lion, drawing a line in the sand.

"Each of you will share this equally. It should tide you over until the next shipment," he continued, his tone a mix of conciliation and command.

"And remember, we are in this together; there are still unsettled accounts between us," David reminded them sharply.

"Let's not entangle ourselves with old debts today. We'll resolve our financial matters in due time, and in harmony, we all stand to profit," the lion-man David said, casting a measured glance towards Gando, urging a spirit of cooperation.

Logan couldn't help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before him. David's strategic maneuvering was not lost on him, he knew well that Gando and the others were indebted to David for previous wine sales. This leverage made David's position almost unassailable, a clever play in the cutthroat game of commerce.

Indeed, the marketplace was a battlefield where the shrewd often prevailed, and in a world scant on mercy, those with the upper hand wrote the rules.

"Alright, as Mr. David wishes!" Gando and the others grudgingly conceded, recognizing that their bargaining power was minimal against David's control over their crucial supplies.

After the negotiations, David extended an invitation to Logan for a celebratory dinner, but the winemaker deferred, citing pressing commitments, promising a rain check.

Days swiftly passed. In the bustling hub of his operations, Logan had secured significant amounts of rice and wheat from the Jean family's granary. After two days dedicated to fermentation and germination processes, Logan was ready to proceed to the next stage.

In the steam-filled ambiance of the kitchen, large pots bubbled with potential. "Watch closely, filter it just so," Logan instructed gently. He emphasized the importance of keeping the sugar residue out to ensure the pristine quality of the maltose.

Beside him, a young beastman apprentice, eager and attentive, nodded earnestly. He grasped the wooden ladle with adept hands, ready to follow his mentor's guidance in the intricate art of brewing.

Logan had selected twenty-seven of his tribesmen from a larger group to train in the crafts of brewing and confectionery. Days earlier, he had gathered all the tribesman he brought to lay out his vision for the future. Only twenty-seven had chosen to remain and learn these new trades, feeling a pull towards this peaceful craft over the life of a soldier.

Logan respected their choice, never one to force a path upon those unwilling.

He hadn't considered the quilboar men for this delicate work. Their formidable size and strength made them invaluable as heavy infantry, particularly when mounted on war boars to form daunting cavalry units. It seemed a misuse of their talents to have them stay back as brewers and confectioners.

"Take your time, and don't hesitate to call me if you need help!" Logan instructed the young beastman, who was carefully maneuvering the wooden ladle through the bubbling mixture.

"Yes, sir!" the apprentice replied with earnest respect.

The task of transforming eleven thousand kilograms of sugar juice from wheat into maltose was monumental. It occupied seventeen earthen stoves and demanded the relentless labor of hundreds. Logan found teaching to be an exhaustingly noble endeavor, mentally, it felt as though he bore a third of the entire effort himself.

At the hotel on the fifth floor, even before the sky darkened into night, Logan was overwhelmed by fatigue. His body sprawled across the bed, he was on the verge of sleep when he heard footsteps ascending the stairs.

"Don't come up. I'm too tired to eat," he muttered, assuming it was someone coming to call him for dinner. The desire to sleep nearly outweighed his ability to move.

Yet, the footsteps continued, prompting a weary Logan to lift his foggy gaze.

"Why are you still here? Didn't you go home?" he asked, propping himself up on one elbow, surprised to see the visitor still around.

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