Village Chief Martin suddenly declared as if he had made an important decision. "Of course, we won't do anything dishonorable; we'll just buy green grapes from various places, bring them to a hidden location, and then have the young villagers carry them into the factory. That way, if we get caught, it won't be tied to the Sibia Village."
Ian: "..."
No, why are you suddenly thinking about smuggling?
Ian shot Village Chief Martin a dark look at the sudden change from honest villager to hardened smuggler and said irritably, "No need for that. I'll handle it. If we're going to purchase it externally, the village will need a few ships."
Rubbing his chin, Ian thought for a moment and then looked at Village Chief Martin. "By the way, how much profit did we make this year?"
When those words fell, Village Chief Martin looked at Ian in surprise. "You don't know?"
"How would I know?"
Ian said, puzzled, while looking toward Village Chief Martin. "I haven't been managing the winery, so how could I know how much profit it made?"
"That's true."
Village Chief Martin looked at Ian helplessly while sighing. "Robin is the only one in the entire Sibia Village who understands this, so she's been in charge all along. And the winery is yours. With your wife in charge, everyone will accept it."
Ian: "..."
Wait, wasn't this winery supposed to belong to the Sibia River Archipelago collectively? Ian raised an eyebrow but didn't comment further.
Instead, he asked: "Then what about everyone's shares?"
"We already discussed that at noon."
Village Chief Martin's face lit up, his tone filled with excitement. "Once everything's sorted in a few days, everyone will get their money! We'll hold a grand banquet to celebrate."
"Of course, I haven't told the rest of the villagers yet. I wanted to ask your opinion first. You just got home, after all."
"I see. Then let's go with your plan."
Hearing that there would be another banquet, Ian couldn't help but shake his head.
He had to admit, this world really loved its banquets.
"Then I'll go notify the villagers."
The moment Ian gave his approval, Village Chief Martin got all fired up, then he turned around and ran back toward the village directly.
As he ran, he muttered excitedly: "Finally, we will get our money. We need to prepare for the banquet."
Watching the old man hopping along like a kid, Ian sighed helplessly, slung his one-handed axe over his shoulder, and continued toward home.
As he walked, he looked around the village and murmured in a thoughtful tone: "Power…?"
...
Soon after the winery officially shut down for the season, the banquet began.
Everyone on the island showed up.
After a year of hard work, they now looked ahead with excitement. Even the fine wine and barbecue they had enjoyed so often seemed dull.
This wasn't just any banquet; it was prepared jointly by the five village chiefs, meant to celebrate the year's success and boost morale for the next one.
They had even asked that guy, Gini, to transport some rare goods and brought in a top chef from the city!
It was clear that this banquet far surpassed any of the impromptu celebrations held before.
But at this moment, no one cared about the food or drinks. Every eye was fixed on the stage.
Sure, the winery's wine had sold extremely well throughout the year, with merchant ships from all over coming to buy it, but no one actually knew how much profit had been made.
Or even if there had been any profit at all.
If it had lost money... What should they do then?
As time passed, under the villagers' tense and eager stares, suddenly…
Clatter! Clatter! Clatter!
A rattling sound echoed, drawing everyone's attention toward the side.
And when they saw what was being pushed in, their eyes widened in disbelief.
An old wooden cart was piled as high as a mountain with stacks upon stacks of Belly!
That's right, mountains of Belly!
The instant they saw it, the crowd froze, unable to look away. Their eyes followed that creaky old wooden cart, hypnotized by the sight.
"Hahaha, you actually made that much money?"
Even Zephyr, who had been invited, was taken aback for a moment before grinning broadly.
"You guys picked that creaky old wooden cart on purpose, didn't you? Gotta admit, that shabby cart and all that Belly sure make quite the impression!"
"Village Chief Martin found it."
Ian said helplessly while glancing at the broken cart. He had to admit, the old man had a certain knack for theatrics.
Then he turned to Zephyr and said, "Still, it's all thanks to you. Otherwise, we wouldn't have earned nearly as much."
"Looks like my reputation's still good for something."
Zephyr chuckled while taking a sip of his drink. "You're a clever one, using my name to make money. Maybe I was wrong, you should've joined the Marine Headquarters' finance department!"
Ian: "..."
Ian rolled his eyes at this.
Marine Headquarters' finance department? Yeah, that was never going to happen.
"Anyway, enough of that."
Zephyr said, his eyes glinting slightly as he continued drinking. "The Sibia River Archipelago made all this money. What are you going to do with it?"
"What to do with it?"
It might look like a lot when piled up like this, but once it was divided, there wouldn't actually be much left.
Ian smiled and said, "We've already discussed it. Everyone plans to expand production. Also, Village Chief Martin and the others agreed to build a new residential area so everyone on the island can live nearby."
"That way, it'll be easier to work, and we can reorganize the plantation zones to grow even more green grapes next year."
"Build houses, expand production and cultivation, huh?"
Zephyr nodded approvingly. "Good plan."
Then, with a knowing smile, he added: "If the World Government or Marine Headquarters saw this, they would probably use it for propaganda: A retired marine returns home to develop rural industry, leading villagers to earn millions of Belly a year!"
Ian: "..."
Hearing that, Ian couldn't help but chuckle helplessly. That did sound like the kind of propaganda they would love.
Even though the Celestial Dragons didn't care about reputation, the World Government and the Marines' public relations teams never stopped pushing their narratives.
Of course: A million Belly sounded impressive, but when divided evenly, it came out to less than 100,000 a month. In the West Blue, even the mafia charged that much in protection fees every month.
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