The System continued to ring loudly and incessantly in Armad’s head, practically screaming: “[A new substance has been found! The system must absorb it now!]”
It persisted in its urgent demand, driving Armad to pause and scan his surroundings frantically. His companions turned their attention to him, some assuming the potent aroma of fresh medicinal plants overwhelmed him, a reasonable assumption for his first visit to this place.
The area surrounding the medicinal plants was enclosed with mesh fencing to contain the overpowering scent. The plants thrived on sunlight streaming in from above for nourishment.
The three other men permitted to accompany them on this tour were cultivators trained in botany at the renowned Wilberforce College in the capital. They specialized in this section of the farm due to the medicinal plants ’ delicate nature.
Saminu had invested significantly more in this 300m plot compared to other sections devoted to common crops. He held this part of the farm in high regard, evident in his pleased expression at Armad’s reaction.
It resembled the gratified response of a servant earning praise from his master.
Despite Saminu’s affiliation with the palace, akin to the typical relationship between the wealthy and the aristocrats, he grasped the gravity of the situation.
“The prince before him was not just any aristocrat; he was of the blood of Wilberforce. He could wield that name to his advantage soon,” Saminu pondered silently.
Saminu, a man of remarkable foresight and cunning, had risen from humble beginnings to achieve the greatness he was now known for.
His father, who passed away during Saminu’s childhood, was also an obscure figure. Without his father’s foresight and excellent business acumen, Saminu wouldn’t have reached the pinnacle of his career.
“These are expected to mature in about two weeks, Your Highness,” Saminu informed, gesturing towards the medicinal plants. “Once they do, they will be brought to you as an addition to the portion intended for sale to the Medicine Producers Association. However, most of them have already matured, Your Highness.”
But Armad was too absorbed in the incessant clamor from the System to heed Saminu’s words.
It was the first time he had experienced such a tantrum from the System since his time travel to this timeframe. Normally, the System would wait until Armad ate before absorbing the nutrients, but now it clamored like a starving lion at the sight of fresh prey.
All it demanded was for Armad to quickly feed it those medicinal plants. It appeared capable of absorbing them without Armad consuming them first, prompting him to wonder why it had never attempted this before.
Armad could only surmise one possible explanation: the System was a discerning eater, displaying unprecedented excitement for Armad’s diet for the first time. It was the first instance of it showing any interest in acquiring nutrients on its own.
But complying with the System’s demands at this moment would spell trouble for Armad. Not only would the System swiftly consume and process the medicinal plants without waiting for Armad’s consent, but it would also inevitably crave more, potentially exposing Armad’s secret to everyone.
Moreover, the three men overseeing the herbal section were cultivators who had studied at Wilberforce College. Armad suspected that King’s Legion spies might still be lurking in the city, posing a threat.
These men, motivated to secure employment with the Medicine Producers Association in the future, might betray Armad. Though he had no intention of resorting to violence to protect his secret, he opted for the only solution he could think of at the moment: avoiding direct contact with the medicinal plants in front of his audience.
Additionally, there was a looming issue with the Medicine Producers Association. If Armad exploited the medicinal plants for personal gain, the Medicine Producers Association would undoubtedly be outraged, particularly if they discovered he had sold their share to foreign parties. Such an act would be a blow to their pride.
To make amends, Armad decided the best course of action was to sell the remaining medicinal plants to the Medicine Producers Association. This would mitigate their disappointment, especially if he explained how the farms had been vandalized by wild people. It would also deter them from taking punitive measures against him, given their awareness of his lineage as a descendant of Wilberforce.
However, if he refused to share any of the medicinal plants, especially after they had already been seen, and considering the absence of vandalism on Saminu’s farmland or anywhere else in the city, any justification Armad offered would be perceived as a mockery of their authority.
The question now lingered: would he relinquish control and deny the System, or would he recklessly pursue self-improvement at their expense?
Yet, Armad had already made his decision, consequences be damned! The farm was ripe for the taking, and there was a strong possibility he would cease selling medicinal plants to anyone in the future.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
The fact that Alabuda’s medicinal plants didn’t affect the System in the same way puzzled him. The only explanation he could devise was that the medicinal plants before him possessed a stronger and purer fragrance than Alabuda’s, possibly due to being freshly picked and stored for a shorter duration. They might even belong to a distinct species.
Lacking expertise in herbalism, Armad couldn’t discern any visible differences between them. He sighed and cautiously treaded further into the enclosure, mindful to avoid touching the plants, although a well-defined pathway ensured his safety.
Throughout the tour, the System continued its relentless screams until Armad concluded it, dismissing everyone except Nusi, the judge, and Saminu. Together, they proceeded to Saminu’s room where he lodged during his visits.
As they settled in, Armad subtly gestured, casting a soundproofing spell to secure the room. “Your work has been commendable,” he praised Saminu. “You shall be duly rewarded. But tell me, how much do you estimate the medicinal plants would fetch from the Medicine Producers Association? The entire plot, that is.”
With a respectful bow, Saminu appeared to calculate mentally, although he had already done so since the medicinal plants were mere seedlings. “That would range from 4 to 5 million, but in high demand, it could fetch up to 6.1 million,” he replied.
After a brief consideration, Armad turned to the judge and instructed, “Retrieve the 4 million from my safe for him.”
The judge was taken aback, too stunned to voice any protest.
Saminu’s expression mirrored the judge’s shock as his mind raced with thoughts.
Having long been familiar with the protocols of this business, Saminu knew that typically, when the medicinal plants were ready for harvest, the Medicine Producers Association would send a delegation to assess and advise on the best harvesting practices. Payments wouldn’t be issued until all stock was sold, a process that could span up to six months.
Upon completion, the wages for the men supervising the medicinal plant removal and transportation would be deducted, in addition to taxes for the empire and the state.
For example, out of a payment of 5 million, Saminu would receive only 2.5 million after taxes, with 1.5 million going to the empire and the remainder to the overseers.
The sudden offer of 4 million without the usual bureaucratic process left Saminu dumbfounded.
“Your Highness...” Saminu began, hesitatingly.
“Yes, you heard correctly,” Armad affirmed.
“It won’t be sold to the Medicine Producers Association; instead, it will be reserved for my personal use. I have a buyer lined up, but there’s no need for questions. Your task now is to ensure your men remain silent. No one is to divulge anything they heard or saw, and if they do, you’ll bear the consequences.”
Samini’s privileged status afforded him insight into the city’s affairs. He was already aware of Armad’s recent trade with the islanders and knew that his farm was the last in town to pacify the Medicine Producers Association.
Saminu looked down, his silence betraying his concern, not for his men, but for the Medicine Producers Association.
The term “Medicine Producers Association ” seemed misleading, as it was primarily an organization catering to cultivators and their allies. Every cultivator, whether a monarch or not, required medicine for healing, cultivating, or enhancing their abilities.
Indeed, some skills remained elusive without the aid of essential pills. The Medicine Producers Association’s influence extended far and wide, demanding submission from all quarters. Responsible for distributing medicine throughout Arion’s empire, they held sway even over the King’s Legion. In essence, their influence reached nearly every corner of the world, and challenging them promised no favorable outcome.
Saminu, privy to these facts, hesitated and avoided making eye contact with the prince. He deferred to the Judge, preferring not to be the first to oppose the prince’s proposal. As a seasoned merchant, he understood the potential repercussions of such actions.
“I believe it would be prudent to discuss this matter further amongst ourselves, Your Highness,” the Judge finally spoke.
Armad met the Judge’s gaze before glancing at Saminu, comprehending their reluctance. They were likely concerned that engaging in conflict with the Medicine Producers Association, on top of their existing feud with the King’s Legion, would be unwise.
However, Armad harbored no fear. He reasoned that since a confrontation with his brother, Ikenga, was inevitable, and the Medicine Producers Association’s primary motive was profit, their gains from him would be minimal. Moreover, the bulk of their business lay in the capital and with other prominent tribes, rather than in his territory.
Believing that they would side with Ikenga over him was nothing but self-deception.
It would be preferable for him to betray them before they could betray him, but he was wary of adding more enemies to his list unnecessarily.
The urgency stemmed from the System’s need for new pills. Though he couldn’t gauge their potency accurately, judging by the System’s current tantrum, he sensed they would be significant.
He pondered the potential effects of these pills on his cultivation and the uncertainties surrounding their nature.
All he understood was the importance of seizing this opportunity. When would another one like it come if he let this slip away?
With the medicinal plants taking months to mature and only this 300-meter plot left in the city, the consequences of losing it weighed heavily on him.
His circumstances demanded action. He needed to enhance his cultivation and assert his authority, as he had no allies to rely on in times of conflict.
Any notion that the Medicine Producers Association would aid him in war was self-deception.
Anticipating the Medicine Producers Association’s anger for withholding the remaining medicinal plants, he remained unfazed. He deemed it preferable to leave them empty-handed and face their wrath, even if they became the next adversaries after the King’s Legion.
He remained confident in his ability to endure, especially with the support of the System.
Eventually, he sighed, his disappointment evident as he gazed at the two men before him.
“You both work for me,” he asserted. “Your counsel is valued, but there are times when counsel alone falls short. This is one of those times.”
Turning his attention solely to the judge, he reiterated, “Since I instructed you to retrieve the money, I mean it. Go and do it now.”
Without needing a third reminder, the judge hurried off, sensing his master’s dwindling patience and the potential consequences of delay.
The fact that Saminu was included in Armad’s warning made him realize his thoughts were not as concealed from the prince as he had believed. In the next moment, he offered a swift apology. Meanwhile, Nusi remained silent and stoic, staring straight ahead.