Early the next morning, Leon got up quickly, washed up, and went out to water the crops. After that, he fed the chickens, then—as usual—took a trip to the cave. Still no sign of any fruit.
Used to such scenes by now, Leon shrugged and left the cave, heading back to prepare his breakfast.
After eating, he made a trip to the remote forest behind the mountain to collect resin from the fully filled tree taps.
One bottle of maple syrup, one bottle of oak resin, and one bottle of pine tar. They weren’t urgently needed now, but in the future, these would all be invaluable. Stocking up was never a bad idea.
Leon planned to prepare 21 combined kegs for now. If he wanted to add more later, he would wait until his farming level rose high enough to unlock the proper kegs, and then he’d start building his own brewery.
After all, the combined keg’s cost was a bit high, and it was slower than the system-produced kegs. The standard kegs would be his main brewing equipment in the future.
Once he finished collecting resin, Leon took another walk through the forest, gathering four dandelions, six wild horseradish, and two leeks before returning to the farm, quite satisfied.
The foraged plants went into the shipping bin. The resin went into a chest. Checking the mailbox by the cabin, he found payment for yesterday’s cauliflower shipment. All six heads were of normal quality, so the price wasn’t outrageous. Still, at 20G each, they were worth more than five times their cost.
A total of 120G wasn’t much, but it was still money—and enough to eat well at Gus’s for several days.
The real profit from that cauliflower batch was in the giant cauliflower. Once the Traveling Merchant’s Guild sold it, Leon would make a fortune again.
The true value of farm produce always lay in the high-quality crops. Leon had long since realized this. Ordinary crops were just the extras.
It reminded him a bit of opening cases in CSGO—but the chance of getting a high-quality crop was much better than getting a gold item from a crate.
By the time he finished his morning work, it was already half past eight. He still hadn’t received a call from Django, so he couldn’t leave the farm. If Django arrived with the goods while Leon was gone, keeping him waiting would be far too rude.
So Leon stayed inside, watching TV while waiting for the phone to ring.
Around ten o’clock, the phone rang. It was Django, saying he was already outside the farm with the delivery, just waiting for Leon to sign.
Leon quickly switched off the TV and stepped outside. Sure enough, Django was there, standing beside a large truck.
“All the kegs you ordered are on the truck. Should I have the workers bring them in?” Django pointed to the truck and asked.
“Sure, but just bring them into the farm. I’ll move them to the setup area myself,” Leon replied. He didn’t refuse Django’s offer, but he also didn’t want the workers hauling the kegs into the kitchen.
Django nodded and directed the workers to start unloading. At the same time, he said, “I’ve already checked them once—no damage. But you’d better take another look, just in case something got missed. If everything’s fine, you can sign the receipt.”
“Mr. Django, I trust you,” Leon said with a smile. Django wasn’t the type to lie about something like this. Better to use the time to say something nice and strengthen their rapport.
After all, Django had just saved him 4,000G. That wasn’t a small sum.
“Thank you for your trust, Mr. Leon. I won’t let you down. If there’s any problem later, contact me directly and I’ll replace the damaged kegs—of course, only if the damage happened during shipping. Natural wear or human damage isn’t covered,” Django reminded him with a grin.
“Haha, of course.”
As they chatted, the workers finished unloading all forty kegs, lining them up from the cabin to the farm entrance. Looking over the kegs, Django suggested, “Mr. Leon, you could build a ventilated shed to store these. Outdoor placement is fine, but keeping them out of wind, sun, and rain will make them last longer.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Leon said, nodding. He took out the 20,000G he’d prepared and handed it over.
After counting to make sure it was correct, Django produced two receipts. “One is for these kegs. The other is for the glass tree tap containers you ordered last time. Mayor Lewis signed for them on your behalf, but for procedural reasons, I still need you to co-sign—just next to Mayor Lewis’s signature.”
“Sorry for the trouble, but it’s a guild requirement. All these receipts go into our records for year-end calculations. At the end of the year, we tally your total purchases and give you equivalent-value gifts. It’s our way of thanking loyal customers who support our business.”
“Oh? And what about shipments? Do their values count?” Leon asked with a grin.
“Of course, but they’re calculated separately from purchases. Suppliers have their own reward system—at year’s end, you’ll get a rebate based on a percentage of the profit your goods generated,” Django explained.
“No wonder the Traveling Merchant’s Guild is so successful. You really understand the art of business relations,” Leon praised. After confirming everything was correct, he signed his name.
Django smiled at the compliment. “We merchants are just transporters, connecting suppliers and customers. Our work depends on your support. Building good relationships means more business, doesn’t it?”
“Very true.” Leon gave him a thumbs-up.
From Django’s words alone, Leon could tell the guild truly understood how to run a business—and without trying to monopolize the market despite their size. No wonder they were a top-tier commercial organization. They deserved their success.
Even if someone came after them one day, as long as they kept up this humble professionalism, no one from the guild would end up hanging from a lamppost.
After a few more friendly exchanges, Django took his leave. Leon didn’t try to stop him, though he was a little disappointed Django was too busy to join him at the Starfruit Saloon for a drink.
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