How much profit can it actually bear?

Simply put, making money isn’t hard—the hard part is making money within the range of acceptable risk.

In this place, there’s no legal protection. Everything operates under unwritten rules backed by force. If the profit grows so large that force can’t support it, then no matter how prosperous your business is, it’s only natural for someone to wipe you out in an instant.

In short, even Bill Gates would have to obediently pay protection fees here, seek the backing of force, and then hand over at least half of his earnings! As for whether he’d even get to enjoy the remaining half, that’s still uncertain.

There’s no such thing as legal business here.

If your fists are big, you’re the law.

If your fists aren’t big, people robbing your business is them being merciful; cutting off your livelihood is them being polite; killing your whole family—that’s the normal state of things!

After fully understanding all this, William Carter sighed inwardly. In such a social environment, if martial strength didn’t flourish, that would be truly strange. No wonder even eight-year-olds start pushing stone rollers.

On Earth in his previous life, there were plenty of grown men who couldn’t carry a fifty-pound sack of rice—grab a handful on any street and you’d find them!

After learning all this, William Carter focused his inquiries on the distribution of power in the town.

This was actually simple. There were over a hundred mercenary groups in town. The largest had two to three hundred core members—there were two such groups in town. The mid-sized groups had anywhere from seventy or eighty to a little over a hundred core members—there were about twenty of these.

The rest were like Owen Smith’s group, with twenty or thirty to forty or fifty core members. If you had fewer people than that, it was hard to survive.

Generally, mercenary groups didn’t have conflicts with each other. Everyone ate according to their strength, minding their own business. Even if conflicts arose, they were kept in check and rarely escalated to deadly fights.

Frequent conflicts happened between mercenary groups and those lone adventurers.

Besides the mercenary groups, there were thousands of warriors in town, coming from all directions, with complex backgrounds and varying levels of strength.

As you can imagine, in a place without legal constraints, when conflicts or interests clash, or if someone just doesn’t like the look of someone else, stabbing you with a stick or slashing you twice is just business as usual!

Besides the warriors, there were all sorts of opportunists and shady characters from every walk of life… Of course, this world doesn’t have the exact same “three religions and nine schools” as the old saying, but it’s a real mixed bag.

After getting a full picture of every aspect of the town, William Carter had only one feeling.

Chaos—utter chaos!

Here, if you don’t band together, you really can’t get by.

Fortunately, the mercenary group he was in now, though small, at least had a place among the regular powers in town. And after adding him—a level three magic apprentice—the group’s status was clearly going to rise a bit.

With this understanding, William Carter now knew what things could be done, what couldn’t, what could be brought out, and what must be kept hidden.

Chapter 7: Integration

Over the course of more than ten days, William Carter had basically gotten familiar with everyone in the mercenary group, big and small. When the team that had gone out on a mission returned, a rather formal banquet was held that evening in the mercenary compound.

No women or children at the table—only all the core members of the group and William Carter.

On one hand, it was a routine welcome for those who had returned safely from the mission; on the other, it was to formally introduce William Carter to everyone.

Calling it a banquet was a bit of a stretch—it just meant there was more roast meat and wine than usual; otherwise, it was much the same as any other day. Of course, for those just back from the mission, the steamed pork was a real treat.

The large chunks of roast meat, heavy with a gamey smell, were nothing like the barbecue from the city stalls in William Carter’s previous life. After a few days of steamed pork, quite a few in the group had turned their backs on what should have been “delicious” roast meat.

At the table, Owen Smith introduced each of the returning members to William Carter.

The level four magic apprentice Henry Clark, whom Captain Owen Smith and others often mentioned to William Carter, looked very haggard. Although his rank was higher than William Carter’s, he was very respectful to William Carter, even giving the mage’s salute first.

William Carter calmly accepted it, then returned the salute.

He was like the sun at eight or nine in the morning, while Henry Clark’s prospects for advancement were already limited. If he didn’t accept the salute, Henry Clark would have felt uncomfortable.

By accepting and then returning the salute, he was showing respect for his senior.

This way, both sides were happy.

In fact, what William Carter didn’t know was that Henry Clark’s salute had another meaning—by doing this, everyone in the group would know how to treat William Carter from now on. That is, they could be friendly, but couldn’t show disrespect just because he was young. On the contrary, precisely because William Carter was so young, they should show even more respect.

At only thirteen, he was already a level three magic apprentice. So what about when he turned twenty-three, thirty-three, or even forty-three? What would he be like then?