Farming in a Parallel World and Becoming a God-Chapter 1266 - 688: Biological Cement_3

The old mage activated a mechanism on the wall, and a cloth curtain above slowly began to rise, revealing the lifelike Crystal Dragon statue inside. It was about one meter in size, not suspended in the air but solidified midair through magic, slowly spinning.

Suddenly, dazzling colorful lights filled the entire tower, with large and small phantom images of Flying Dragons in different hues appearing and vanishing as the Crystal Dragon rotated.

"So beautiful!" Mother Gao Ser gazed at the Crystal Dragon in awe. "If such an item had been available in the City of Brilliance before, I wouldn’t hesitate to buy it, even for a thousand Gold Coins each. This thing is simply a perfect match for Joy Hall. It would elevate the atmosphere there to unprecedented heights. Not only is this business worth doing, but it also has enormous untapped potential. We could even divide it into high-end, mid-range, and low-end markets targeted at completely different segments of people."

Even though managing Joy Hall wasn’t her primary focus anymore, it was still her old profession. When her mind wandered, it naturally gravitated toward it first. This dream-like feeling was just too fitting for Joy Hall’s ambiance.

Haransen couldn’t help but show a bitter expression as he said, "But the water channel isn’t mine alone; it belongs to all the villagers of Nimiel Village. Regarding this matter, the villagers have serious disagreements—it’s almost escalating to the point of armed conflict..."

"Father, Father Haransen, are you there? Is everything alright? Jason said he saw two strangers come to our village and enter your tower..."

"No matter who you are or what your intentions might be, please don’t harm Father! We can negotiate if need be. If you’re after money, we’ll figure out a way to gather it for you."

"Father, answer us! Are you okay? If you still don’t reply, we’ll barge in."

"Don’t act recklessly! Our village has several capable youngsters working in the Masonber Guard Squad and the Navy. If you harm anyone from our village, they absolutely won’t let you off the hook. No matter where you flee, they’ll track you down."

"Grandpa! Grandpa! Are you alright? Please say something quickly!"

Outside Haransen’s tower, the sounds of bustling arguments echoed as a large crowd gathered. Most were physically tough men, but judging by their rough hands and darkened faces, it was clear they were genuine farmers. They held either hay forks or the simplest of weapons.

From their words, it wasn’t hard to sense that the old mage Haransen was well-respected locally and held in high regard by the villagers. After all, a mage willing to solve the problems of local residents would inevitably earn their love—even if his Professional Level wasn’t particularly high.

The old mage gave Gaven an apologetic smile and said, "I think the villagers have misunderstood. Since this place is rather secluded, the people coming and going are all familiar faces. Seeing a stranger even once a year is rare. Please allow me to go out and comfort them."

"Understood," Gaven nodded. "Let’s go out together. You mentioned that the villagers are divided over selling glass water lamps, right? Now that they’ve all gathered here, we can resolve it altogether."

Gaven increasingly felt that his time was running short; everything that could be simplified should be simplified, and whatever tasks others could handle should be handed over to them. Bringing Miss Goser here wasn’t to show off the unusual items he had found in Valo’s Travels but to assign her the task of carrying out the business.

Considering the limited product availability, the glass lamps would undoubtedly take the high-end route, sold to nobles and baronesses who could afford them. Especially those beauty-loving women—they would find it hard to resist a gorgeous, smokeless, innovative lighting appliance that could grace their bedrooms. freёwebnoѵel.com

In this aspect, Miss Goser and her companions had a unique selling advantage that others didn’t possess. Whether in Susar or the City of Brilliance, they could effortlessly open up markets. They could even leverage these unique products to gain entry into the circles of local noblewomen and aristocrats, helping themselves gather more useful intelligence.

"Well..." Haransen’s gaze became flickering, his expression betraying undisguised concern.

For him, Gaven and Miss Goser were ultimately unknown strangers arriving unannounced. Even though their conversation had gone well, he still couldn’t gauge their true intentions. Who knew what means they might employ?

Many evildoers would casually resort to murder to achieve their goals.

Moreover, outside were not only his neighbors and fellow villagers but also his own blood relatives—his children and grandchildren were among them.

Gaven, seemingly seeing through Haransen’s worries, chuckled and said, "I’m here for business, not to cause trouble. Rest assured, I’ll never resort to violence but instead conquer them through commercial strategies. This is Komeer—if I were to draw swords, it’d be equivalent to cutting off my own future."

Haransen thought this logic made sense but still gave Gaven a reminder: "Sir, many of them are unrefined farmers and have never left this village their entire lives. Many have limited knowledge and are stubborn by nature. They’ve already been driven to despair over the water channel matter, struggling to make ends meet. If their words seem crude or offensive, please be patient and don’t stoop to their level."

"Understood. No matter how uncouth they may be, could they possibly be worse than the Monster Tribe?" Gaven replied with a smile, already having a plan in mind for dealing with the villagers outside.

"Then I’ll thank you in advance, sir," the old mage Haransen said solemnly as he walked out, his heart heavy with worry. Even with Gaven’s assurance, he couldn’t completely relax. After all, Gaven’s youthful face carried its own unpredictability. Compared to middle-aged individuals, young nobles and barons were more impulsive and prone to extreme actions. Haransen had seen it firsthand. Over a minor quarrel, one young noble had drawn his sword in the streets of Masonber, chopping someone on the spot. The matter had been settled later with merely a hefty fine.

This world had never been fair. Villagers like them, living in remote areas, were at the very bottom of the social hierarchy.

But for now, he had no other choice but to take things one step at a time.