Despite the tantalizing allure of immense profits, Logan felt powerless against the complexities of his business. He let out a hollow laugh, "Haha!"
"Don't let the idea of huge profits make you envious," Fisher replied, sensing Logan's mixed emotions. "Believe it or not, thirty percent of those profits slip into other hands before we even see a coin. After all the costs are deducted, we're lucky to keep half."
"Only half?" Logan responded, his tone laced with skepticism. His experience had taught him that few businessmen were entirely truthful, and he wasn't one to be easily fooled.
Fisher, realizing the need for transparency, straightened up. "With our relationship, there's no benefit in me lying to you."
"Consider the journey from here to the nearest human country, it spans thousands of kilometers. Do you know how many toll camps lie along that route?"
"These camps are controlled by local powers. Each caravan passing through must pay a toll based on their cargo's value. Between here and our destination, there are thirty or forty such camps. Just the tolls alone can cost tens of thousands of gold coins."
"My profits aren't as easily earned as you might think," Fisher concluded with a wry smile.
"But why do we need to pay these camps?" Logan questioned, puzzled by the arrangement.
He knew his brother-in-law was influential; it baffled him why such a formidable businessman would succumb to paying tolls.
"The camps are often in cahoots with bandits," Fisher explained, sensing Logan's incredulity. "Paying the toll is essentially buying peace. It means the bandits are less likely to target us, rob us, or harass our caravans along the way."
Logan frowned, absorbing this new information. Such an arrangement seemed almost too conniving and convenient.
Fisher noticed Logan's skeptical gaze and felt a twinge of helplessness. The young man was always on guard.
"While it's true that I may earn more than I claim, the tolls are very real," Fisher admitted internally.
"So, why hire mercenaries if paying tolls ensures safety?" Logan probed further.
Fisher shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. "It's not that simple. The route is riddled with bandit groups. New ones emerge daily, only to be consumed or defeated by others tomorrow. It's chaos."
Logan furrowed his brow in concern as he turned to Fisher. "So, are the small merchants doomed to failure?"
Fisher shook his head, a glimmer of strategy in his eyes. "Not necessarily. Many of these smaller traders have banded together to form joint caravans. Near the Cross Mountains, they hire mercenaries for protection. It's costly, but when the expense is shared, it's more bearable."
Logan nodded slowly, digesting the complexities of their situation. "I see. In a lawless land like this, strength dictates order. It's a harsh reality."
"It's unrealistic for the Silver Mane Tribe to attempt forming a caravan alone," Fisher continued, his voice a mixture of realism and regret. "For now, focus on your production. Keep brewing and making sugar. When the eldest brother returns, he'll set things right."
He leaned in closer, his tone dropping to a more serious note. "And Logan, if the big wine merchants approach you, stay low. Avoid direct contact to prevent any rash decisions driven by their greed. Remember, the tribe's safety is at stake."
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Logan's eyes softened. "I understand, Fisher. Thank you."
With a brotherly clasp of the shoulder, Fisher prepared to leave. Logan escorted him out, handing him a 20-jin barrel of rye liquor as a parting gift.
No sooner had Fisher disappeared down the path than David, the lion-man wine merchant, appeared as if on cue, the midday sun casting his shadow sharply on the ground.
"Do you think it unwise for me to collaborate with them as well?" Logan inquired, motioning for David to take the seat Fisher had just vacated.
David settled in, his expression earnest. "Master Logan, since I am here, I'll speak plainly. If my words seem off, please forgive me."
Logan nodded, curious about David's perspective.
David leaned forward, his voice low but intense. "As a small merchant, I never stood a chance until you showed up. You've given me a vision of rising beyond my current station, of perhaps becoming a top merchant. But if you align with the larger players, that vision crumbles for me."
Logan raised an eyebrow, surprised by the simplicity and directness of David's plea. "Is that your main concern?"
David nodded emphatically, and despite the naïveté of the statement, Logan couldn't help but find a certain charm in his straightforwardness.
Logan laughed gently. "David, while your concern might not top my list of reasons to reject their offers, it's refreshing to hear such honesty. Let's discuss how we can ensure both our futures in this trade."