4: Chapter 4: The First Fundraising Round Begins with Extorting the Head Butler

It was not wine, but a catalyst capable of igniting primal desires.

He turned around to face the open space in the center of the hall, his voice carrying an irresistible infectiousness, like a preacher describing the splendors of heaven: "Gentlemen, ladies, what we possess now is not a cup of unpalatable spirits. It is an experience, a key that can instantly pierce the veneer of civilization and decency to face the beast within!"

His gaze swept across everyone.

Iron Hammer's expression shifted from pain to confusion, Morg was still in fear, and on Klaus's perpetually icy face, a crack finally appeared.

"We don't sell this to drunks who just want to get wasted." A shrewd curve hooked at the corner of Levi's mouth. "Our target customers are those wealthy, bored nobles who feel that life has lost its thrill. They have everything, so they feel nothing. What we want to sell them isn't wine, but a forbidden pleasure, a brief descent into depravity, a... kiss with the abyss."

"abyss kiss." He softly uttered the name as if it held magic of its own. "That is the name of our first product."

Evelyn shuddered. She looked at Levi, her eyes filled with an indescribable shock alongside her fear.

This man could actually package a cup of crude distilled spirits into such an... alluring concept.

At the doorway, the mockery at the corner of Klaus's mouth completely froze.

For the first time, he felt that things seemed to be sliding in a direction he completely failed to understand or control.

Three days later, in the early morning, the mist had not yet dispersed on the only mountain road leading to Blackstone Ridge.

Levi stood on the tallest tower of the castle, the cold wind whipping his thin noble attire and clearing his head, which was groggy from lack of sleep.

He hadn't closed his eyes for two consecutive nights, personally supervising Iron Hammer in optimizing the distillation equipment while conducting high-intensity "sales pitch training" for Evelyn.

His gaze was locked onto a bend in the mountain road where a tree had been deliberately felled across the path. Beside it lay an overturned, dilapidated wheelbarrow, with several Blackstone Fruits scattered on the ground.

Beside that fallen tree, a frail figure huddled. Her thin hemp dress had several gashes, revealing fair skin. On her slender ankle, a gruesome "wound" was gurgling with bright red "blood" — a masterpiece meticulously prepared by Morg using beetroot and honey, looking terrifyingly realistic.

Evelyn, his Chief Operating Officer, was currently perfectly playing the role of a poor village girl who had narrowly escaped a monster attack.

This was his meticulously planned first "precision marketing" campaign.

According to his predecessor's memories and information indirectly gathered from the guards, the hunting motorcade of the young noble from the Royal Capital, Dorian Eldridge, would pass through here today.

This second son of a viscount, famous for his extravagant lifestyle and love for seeking new thrills, was the perfect "angel user" Levi had screened.

Time passed minute by minute, and Levi's hands inside his sleeves had grown somewhat cold.

Every step of the plan had been rehearsed hundreds of times in his mind, but reality always holds surprises.

What if Dorian didn't come today, or simply took a detour...

Suddenly, the crisp sound of hooves striking the stony road approached from afar.

He's here.

Levi's pupils constricted slightly, and his heart raced traitorously.

This feeling was just like when he reported a project to a big boss in his previous life; success or failure depended on this single stroke.

A group of riders appeared at the end of the mountain road. Leading them was a young man in magnificent hunting attire, riding a pure white steed. His dazzling blond hair shone in the morning light; it was Dorian.

Their motorcade was blocked by the fallen tree.

"What's going on?" Dorian pulled the reins impatiently.

A guard went forward to check and soon discovered Evelyn huddled behind the tree.

"My Lord, there's an injured woman."

Dorian frowned; he had always lacked interest in such country village girls.

But when Evelyn was "helped" up by the guard and raised that tear-stained, beautiful face mixed with fear and fragility, Dorian's eyes instantly lit up.

Even stained with dust and wearing tattered hemp clothes, her breathtaking beauty could not be hidden. Especially those dark red pupils, which seemed to possess a strange magic that made his heart skip a beat.

"What happened, poor little thing?" Dorian dismounted and put on what he considered his most gentle and charming smile.

Evelyn's body cowered, her eyes filled with terror, playing the "startled deer" role Levi had taught her to perfection.

She incoherently described how she had been attacked by a "huge, tusked boar" while subconsciously clutching something in a crude clay bottle tightly to her chest, as if it were her only reliance.

Dorian's attention was completely captivated by her beauty. He listened patiently to her rambling account, the possessiveness in his eyes growing stronger.

Just as he reached out, wanting to "soothe" her trembling shoulders, Evelyn seemed even more frightened and suddenly stepped back. Her foot slipped, and with a "crack," the clay bottle in her arms smashed against the hard stony road, shattering.

An unprecedented, domineering, and intense pungent aroma instantly exploded in the damp morning mist!

This scent was extremely penetrating, instantly overpowering the earthy smell and the fragrance of vegetation, like an invisible needle piercing everyone's nostrils.

The guards frowned and stepped back, but Dorian's expression first turned to bewilderment, then a strong curiosity burst from his eyes.

He had drunk the fruit wine of the Elves, tasted the Flaming Ale of the Dwarves, and even sampled mysterious fine wines from the Ancient Eastern Kingdoms, but no wine had such a pure and aggressive aroma!

"What is this?" he blurted out, his gaze shifting from Evelyn's face to the transparent liquid rapidly soaking into the soil.

Evelyn's...

"It's gone... the only relic my father left me... gone..." She began to sob sorrowfully. Her pitiful appearance made Dorian's heart tighten.

"A relic? What kind of wine is this exactly?" Dorian pressed, the aroma seemingly stirring a deep-seated craving within him.

Evelyn raised her tearful face and, strictly following the script Levi had designed, began to tell the fabricated story.

"This isn't wine..." she said in a tearful, mystery-filled tone. "Father said this is the 'abyss kiss'. It is the water of courage drunk by ancient heroes to peer into the mysteries of the abyss. Mortals... mortals are not blessed to enjoy it; its power is too strong, it will scorch the soul..."

abyss kiss? Scorching the soul?

These words precisely hit Dorian's heart, which sought excitement and craved to be different.

The more unattainable and dangerous something was, the more it could arouse his desire for conquest.

"Do you have any more at home? I'll buy it! I'll pay ten gold coins!" Dorian said urgently.

Evelyn shook her head in terror: "No... not for sale. This is... this is an offering for the Mountain God..."

The more she refused, the more fervent Dorian's desire became.

Finally, under the noble young master's persistent pestering and monetary offensive, Evelyn "reluctantly" agreed to take him to the dilapidated castle at the top of the hill; "perhaps" another bottle could be found.

When Dorian Eldridge stepped into the smoke-filled, empty, and gloomy hall of Blackstone Castle, he felt as if he had walked into an ancient ruin.

Everything here matched his imagination of that "heroic legend" — ancient, mysterious, and with a hint of danger.

Levi was already waiting there.

He wasn't wearing the magnificent attire symbolizing a lord's status but a simple yet extremely clean black robe. His face was pale and his expression solemn, like an ascetic monk guarding an ancient secret.

He didn't bow and scrape like other minor nobles, but merely nodded slightly, saying in a flat and detached tone, "Lord Eldridge, welcome to the territory of the Byron Family. Evelyn has already explained your purpose for coming."

This neither humble nor arrogant attitude actually made Dorian think more highly of him.

"Name your price for your 'abyss kiss'," Dorian said straightforwardly.

Levi slowly shook his head: "'abyss kiss' is not a commodity; it is our family's faith in power. It belongs to no mortal, but only to the truly strong who have the courage to face the abyss within."

A perfect script for hunger marketing.

The next half hour turned into a meticulously designed psychological game.

Levi did not mention selling it at all, instead repeatedly emphasizing the danger of 'abyss kiss' and the 'qualification theory,' elevating the product's positioning infinitely.

Finally, just as Dorian was almost losing his patience, Levi seemed to make a huge concession.

"For the sake of your rescue of Evelyn, I can make an exception and let you 'earn' the qualification to taste it once."

Ultimately, Dorian 'earned' the 'qualification' to buy a small bottle of 'abyss kiss' for twenty gold coins—a sky-high price sufficient to buy a small barrel of top-tier elven wine in the Royal Capital.

As he left satisfied, carrying that crudely packaged bottle he treated like a treasure and leaving his contact info to pre-order more, Levi leaned against a stone pillar in the hall and breathed a long sigh of relief.

Klaus stepped out from the shadows, his gaze incredibly complex as he looked at the heavy coin pouch in Levi's hand.

He had witnessed the entire process, from Evelyn's performance to Levi's 'sales talk'; everything seemed like a precision-engineered scam.

Yet, this scam had succeeded.

Levi ignored Klaus. He walked to the center of the hall and poured the gold coins from the pouch onto the scratched oak table with a 'clatter.'

Twenty brilliant gold coins emitted a lethal allure in the dim hall.

Iron Hammer's breathing instantly became heavy, Morg's eyes widened like copper bells, and even Evelyn couldn't help but hold her breath.

They had never seen so much money in their lives.

"The first order has been successfully completed," Levi's voice broke the silence. "According to what we agreed upon earlier, we will now distribute the project dividends."

He pushed two gold coins towards Evelyn: "Evelyn, Chief Operating Officer and star salesperson, perfect execution. This is your performance bonus."

Evelyn looked at the two gold coins, feeling somewhat at a loss.

She had simply acted out a play and said a few lines as Levi taught her, and she had gained wealth she wouldn't have dared to imagine in the past.

Next, Levi took out another gold coin and pushed it to Iron Hammer: "Iron Hammer, Chief Technical Officer, the equipment you improved ensured the stable output of the product. This is your technical research and development award."

Iron Hammer grabbed the gold coin and bit it hard. After confirming it was real gold, he grinned, revealing a smile mixed with greed and excitement.

Finally, a few silver coins were pushed in front of Morg: "Morg, Head of Logistics Support Department, your 'makeup techniques' were crucial. This is your creativity award."

The halfling cook held the heavy silver coins, so moved he was on the verge of tears.

Seeing the instantly ignited look in their eyes, Levi knew that the initial team cohesion had been established in the most direct and effective way.

In their eyes, numbness and doubt were fading, replaced by a flame called 'hope' and 'greed.'

Levi put the remaining sixteen gold coins back into the bag.

"These will serve as our R&D and production fund, to be reinvested into expanding production." He pulled out several crudely drawn blueprints from his robe and tossed them to Iron Hammer. "This is the second-generation distillation equipment I designed, featuring multi-stage fractionation and a cooling circulation system. I require the production capacity to increase tenfold and the purity of the liquor to double within three days."

Iron Hammer picked up the blueprints, and with just one look, his expression changed.

Although he didn't understand the annotated symbols, with his intuition as a dwarven craftsman, he could feel the sophistication and efficiency of this design, which far surpassed his own patchwork repairs.

"No problem!" He patted his chest, making no complaints about Levi's order for the first time.

Just as a near-frenzied entrepreneurial atmosphere filled the hall, a cold voice rang out.

"Cheap tricks."

Klaus slowly stepped forward, his eyes cold as ice as he looked at the coin marks left on the table. "Using a succubus's beauty combined with some unheard-of trickery might let you fool one or two idiots like Dorian. But, My Lord, do not forget that in three months, it will be time to pay the 'Territorial Tribute Tax' to the suzerain."

He leaned in close to Levi, his voice low and full of threat. "One hundred gold coins. That is the deadline the family has set for you. If you can't produce it, your title will be stripped, and you'll be sent back to the Royal Capital to end your days in some dark corner. Do you think you can scrape together a hundred gold coins in three months with your street scams?"

The excitement on the faces of Evelyn and the others instantly cooled. A hundred gold coins was an astronomical figure enough to crush anyone.

However, there wasn't a trace of panic on Levi's face.

He looked directly into Klaus's malicious eyes and calmly pulled out another stack of parchment covered in writing from his robe.

"Butler Klaus, I think you've misunderstood. I never intended to solve the problem relying solely on 'street scams'."

He handed over the stack of parchment.

Klaus took it in confusion and looked down.

At the top of the first page, several phrases he had never seen before were written in clear script—'Business Feasibility Analysis and First Round Financing Proposal for the "abyss kiss" Project'.

Below were dense lines of text and numbers.

"Market Analysis: The target customer group is the upper-middle class nobility of the kingdom, approximately three thousand people. This group possesses high consumption power, a pursuit of novel experiences, and is easily influenced by social circles. Estimated potential market penetration is 5%..."

"Cost Accounting: Raw material (Blackstone Fruit) cost is zero. Labor costs... equipment depreciation..."

"Profit Forecast: Based on a unit price of 20 gold coins per bottle and a monthly production of 50 bottles, the first month's gross profit can reach 1000 gold coins. The net profit margin is expected to be over 95%..."

The more Klaus read, the more alarmed he became. He didn't understand a single one of these terms, but together, they sketched a blueprint for frantic wealth accumulation that made his heart race.

Especially that '95% net profit margin'—it was even more terrifying than robbery.

He flipped to the last page and saw something called the 'Angel Investor Recruitment Plan.'

"To resolve the funding bottleneck for initial capacity expansion, we are now opening 10% of the Original Shares to visionary investors, seeking to raise fifty gold coins. Investors will receive quarterly project dividends, with an expected annualized return rate of no less than 300%..."

Klaus's brain completely stalled.

He had lived for sixty years and had never seen such a ridiculous yet... logically clear document.

He looked up, staring blankly at Levi.

Levi wore a gentle, standard smile—the kind a project manager uses when pitching for investment to a client.

"Butler Klaus, you've served the Byron Family for forty years; surely you've accumulated quite a bit of savings?" His voice was full of temptation. "Instead of letting those gold coins rot in your chest, why not invest them in a great cause? Trust me, before long, the annual dividends you receive will far exceed a lifetime's salary."

He paused and delivered the final, fatal blow.

"Moreover, as the first 'Angel Investor' of our project, you will also be a partner in our enterprise. Only if the territory develops well will you have a bright future, right? We are in the same boat now."

Klaus gripped the so-called 'Financing Proposal,' his fingers turning slightly white from the force.

Looking at this 'useless' young master before him, who was smiling and talking eloquently, he felt a shiver from the depths of his soul for the first time.

This guy wasn't just selling wine or running a scam; he... he actually wanted to use Klaus's hard-earned retirement savings to invest in this crazy plan of his!

This was no longer a threat or an order.

This was a higher level of... exploitation, one he had never seen and could not understand.