"Speak at your leisure. I'm listening intently," Glen remarked, his countenance betraying a calm demeanor.

The balding man took a few deep breaths before resuming, "Sir, I'm acutely aware that this is a flagrant breach of etiquette towards a writer. Nevertheless, I earnestly hope for your forgiveness. During the days I endeavored to reach you, you were perpetually absent. Coupled with the immense popularity of your stories at that time, we were consumed by the fear of being preempted by other publishing houses. Thus, I took the liberty of making this decision on my own. I truly am remorseful for the offense I've caused you. We're prepared to offer any form of compensation within our means. I implore you not to harbor any ill - will towards our publishing house!"

Glen was somewhat taken aback by the man's humble stance, yet upon reflection, he readily comprehended the underlying reason.

He had now attained a certain level of celebrity status, bearing the title of a writer. Presumably, he had amassed a considerable number of clandestine book - enthusiasts. A publishing conglomerate capable of printing books and disseminating them to bookstores far and wide was loath to incur his displeasure.

"Kindly elaborate on your proposed compensation first," Glen stated with a measured tone.

"Very well, sir. Let us adjourn inside to discuss," the balding man said, guiding Glen to a locale reminiscent of an office, where the floor and tables were strewn with heaped - up documents and papers.

Once they had seated themselves on stools, the balding man commenced, "Writers who submit their works to us via the regular channels are entitled to 60% of the proceeds subsequent to the book's release. Naturally, given your exceptional circumstances, we're willing to allocate 70% to you."

Sixty percent? It would seem that writers in this world are held in high regard... Although Glen entertained such thoughts, he nonetheless made an audacious demand, "I demand 90%."

The balding man's visage instantly froze, and he remained speechless for an extended period.

Observing this, Glen continued, "This is rightfully mine. You were the ones who erred in the first place. I'm merely seeking to reclaim what is due to me. Do clarify the situation, sir."

"But, sir, we've also invested copious resources. If you insist on such terms, there'll scarcely be anything left for us to profit from..." the balding man lamented, his face etched with distress.

"Precisely why I claim 90%. I'm rather parsimonious by nature. When I learned of your actions, I was incensed. Restraining myself from creating a scene here represents the utmost limit of my self - control. Otherwise, we'd be facing each other in a courtroom."

"Sir, you're placing us in a rather precarious position. Couldn't you perhaps..."

"Absolutely not. I've made myself clear. I'm a stickler. If you lack the authority to make a decision, summon someone who does. Alternatively, we can resort to legal proceedings. Perhaps I'll secure an even more favorable outcome that way."

The atmosphere once again lapsed into silence. Evidently, the balding man was ill - equipped to handle such a situation. Presumably, this was the first instance of its kind he had encountered, and their position was decidedly less tenable.

At that moment, the door was abruptly thrust open, and a gaunt man strode in. Glen was aware that he had been eavesdropping outside, so his entrance did not come as a surprise.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"I believe I must apprise you of a certain fact, sir. This world is not a paragon of absolute fairness..." the gaunt man declared in a confrontational tone upon entering.

"Mr. Semboli, I'm capable of handling this..." the seated balding man rose to his feet, only to be interrupted mid - sentence by the newcomer's raised hand.

"And what counsel do you have for me, sir?" Glen's tone remained unperturbed.

The gaunt man sauntered to the rear of the table piled with documents and seated himself with an air of nonchalance.

He regarded Glen with half - lidded eyes. "I offer my sincere apologies for our discourteous behavior and am willing to make amends. However, this does not justify your exorbitant demands. True, you've achieved some degree of fame, yet few individuals have actually laid eyes on you. There are countless individuals named Glen in this world. Even if we were to end up in court, we possess the means to reassign the authorship to... another Glen."

Upon uttering these words, Glen remained silent. The atmosphere in the modest - sized room grew palpable with tension.

The balding man stood off to the side, attempting several times to interject but ultimately refraining.

Glen suddenly emitted a soft chuckle, causing the gaunt man behind the table to arch his brow slightly.

Then Glen said, "Do you presume that I lack any form of backing and thus can be manipulated at your whim? You're gravely mistaken."

As he spoke, he snapped his fingers, and a small flicker of flame danced to life at his fingertip.

Both the balding man and the gaunt man's countenances underwent a dramatic transformation.

"You're a mage?!" they exclaimed in unison.

This development rendered the situation rather tricky. If Glen were a high - level mage, they would indeed have to concede defeat.

The gaunt man's eyes widened fully, and his upright posture slumped ever so slightly.

Glen took note of their reactions and smiled. "I'm a... first - level mage."

Upon hearing this, the gaunt man's spirits, which had plummeted, revived somewhat.

A first - level mage was merely marginally more esteemed than a commoner. If he lacked any influential connections, they might still... salvage a modicum of their interests.

Yet, as if deliberately toying with them, Glen continued, "However, my mentor is a fifth - level mage."

The gaunt man's last vestige of hope evaporated. He rose to his feet, trembling slightly as he approached Glen, and offered a heartfelt apology, "I... I'm truly sorry, sir. I ought not to have addressed you in such a manner. We're prepared to accede to all your demands!"

Glen's visage brightened with a smile. "It would have been far more expedient had you done so from the outset."

...

After departing from the headquarters of the White Bird Publishing House, Glen first procured some provisions and outdoor camping accoutrements in the town.

He recalled that on the map of the Zern Kingdom, the stretch between Battersea and Lyonesse City was sparsely populated with towns and villages. Hence, such preparations were essential.

It would take some time for the White Bird Publishing House to collate the earnings and remit the funds to Glen.

He harbored no apprehensions of being deceived. From the deferential and awestruck gazes they directed at him, Glen was acutely aware of the lofty status that high - level mages commanded in the eyes of ordinary folk.

While engaged in shopping within the city, Glen chanced upon several individuals driving steam - powered automobiles. Each was attired fashionably, and the deafeningly loud iron contraptions invariably drew the attention of numerous passers - by as they roared past.

The design of the steam - powered automobile bore little resemblance to the cars of Glen's previous life.

Firstly, it was somewhat smaller in size, resembling an enlarged shoe. The seating was positioned at the opening of the "shoe," accommodating only two individuals. The engine at the front occupied a substantial portion of the space, and two chimney - like pipes protruding from the front hood billowed white smoke.

Surprisingly, Glen found himself rather taken with this style and resolved to acquire one for his amusement in the future.

Upon leaving the city, after three days of traveling along the King's Road, he finally drew near to Lyonesse City.

Quite coincidentally, Glen caught sight of the mercenary group that had detained Danni and her son on a previous occasion.

Even more fortuitously, he discerned that the old man was among them and appeared to be their leader.

The four heads of the mercenary group stood before the old man, looking as deferential as grandsons.

Glen, blessed with keen eyesight, spotted them from a distance. It was only after Glen had traveled a short distance further that they noticed him.