The sun hung low over the village, casting a warm glow across the jagged coastline where small fishing boats rocked gently in the harbor. Narrow, winding streets twisted between low wooden houses, their roofs weathered by years of salt and rain. Smoke drifted from a handful of chimneys, carrying the scent of sizzling fish and sea air.
Green hills rose just beyond the village, dotted with scattered trees and terraced fields, giving the impression of a place that had grown naturally around the land. Children ran barefoot along cobblestones, their laughter mixing with the cries of seagulls. Near the market square, merchants shouted from their stalls, their voices clashing with the creak of masts and the clatter of carts.
Somewhere at the edge of town, a slightly larger, sturdier building sat atop a gentle rise, hinting at authority without needing to declare it. The village felt small but alive, familiar yet full of hidden corners where secrets waited.
A young boy wearing a straw hat and sandals plopped down with a huge grin beside a seaside stall, eyes wide as he stared at the strange glass bottle in front of him.
"Eh? What's this?" He muttered, twisting the cap off and taking a long gulp of the Iron Bull.
The taste hit him instantly, sharp, sweet and oddly invigorating. His eyes widened as he shouted. "Woah… this stuffs amazing! I feel… super strong already! Hihihi! I can definitely beat that bastard Ace!"
He glanced around the bustling streets, merchants shouting and sailors laughing before leaning forward reaching for a second bottle and taking off in an instant.
…
"So? Do you agree, Mr. Coyote? It's only a five-year contract with the company," Sanemi's voice rang through the meeting room above the tavern after several minutes of negotiation.
"As you can see, your base salary, bonuses, everything, it's all in your favor!" he added, emphasizing each word.
Coyote paused, pen in hand, giving a long, sly glance before finally writing his signature on the contract.
And a few seconds later, Seb and Coyote stepped out, one confused and the other bewildered.
Sanemi remained in the meeting room as Dr. Marlow finally appeared after several days of work.
The man's entire demeanor radiated exhaustion, yet all Sanemi could do was scratch the back of his head awkwardly and mutter a promise of a bonus.
Marlow's eyes lingered on him, a hint of irritation visible.
"…Chairman, it's done. All bulk orders for the four branches have been completed and are just now being shipped out. Jonas sends his regards, he wants a week-long vacation after this," Marlow explained, taking a seat and leaning back with a long yawn.
Sanemi nodded, satisfied. He hadn't seen Jonas since he departed for the Goa Kingdom weeks ago, and the timing couldn't have been worse. "Good job. Go rest, and return in a few days. I trust the managers traveling with you are fully capable now. As for Jonas… we'll see."
Marlow nodded and left shortly after.
…
East Blue waters.
A convoy of over a dozen ships sailed through the waves in tight formation. On one of the larger vessels, a young man with a buzzcut gritted his teeth, a dangerous smile on his face. Veins popped along his arms as he clenched the wheel.
"Bastard… overworking me until I drop…" Jonas muttered through gritted teeth, already plotting how he'd make that damn brat pay later.
Sanemi felt shivers out of nowhere and mumbled in dissatisfaction..
…
Iron Bull Warehouse - Factories
The six warehouses from days prior had been transformed completely. Dozens upon dozens of workers moved in precise, clockwork fashion, each step in the production of Iron Bull carefully monitored. Newly trained managers roamed the floors, ensuring every barrel, bottle, and ingredient met the Wayne Group's high standards. Marlow had taken untrained civilians and molded them into competent, disciplined factory workers.
Many of those employed had come from the poorer districts of the Organ Islands, eager for a stable daily wage without the looming threat of unemployment. For most, the contracts they signed with the Wayne Group felt like a dream come true.
Among them was Scott, the brother-in-law of one of the tavern's earliest staff members. He still remembered how proud the man had been when he secured a steady job at the tavern, and how he and Scott's sister had moved closer to the town soon after.
Scott had assumed he'd continue laboring on his family's apple farm, working long, exhausting days. But with the Wayne Group's sudden hiring spree, the factory became a whirlwind of activity, and Scott was among the many who eagerly volunteered, drawn by the promise of security, pay, and a chance to be part of something far bigger than themselves.
He quickly grew attached not only to his work but also to the Wayne Group itself. Scheduled breaks punctuated the long days, and the newly implemented code of conduct and company policies ensured a fair, non-discriminatory environment. All that was expected was diligence, no harsh punishments, no harassment. Many workers found comfort in this structure, and it didn't take long for them to genuinely enjoy their work.
Within just a few days, the Wayne Group had effectively transformed the local labor culture. Employees spoke openly of the company's virtues, praising its organization, fairness, and opportunities for advancement.
The majority of the Organ Islands' populace began to support the Wayne Group, not merely out of curiosity but out of genuine admiration. This goodwill gave Sanemi and his operations more leverage than even the Mayor's office had anticipated.
…
Mayor's Office
Weekly Meeting
Mayor Arthur sat at the head of the long table, flanked by the Deputy Mayor and other high-ranking legal servants of the Organ Islands. The atmosphere was tense, arguments flew across the room like sharp daggers.
"We cannot do that! Mayor, with all due respect, the Wayne Group isn't something we can push around anymore! Haven't you heard? They've bought out multiple companies and now employ hundreds!" A legal servant slammed his fist on the table, voice cracking with frustration.
The Deputy Mayor, a middle-aged man with carefully parted hair, rose from his seat. "I agree. Not only that, the Wayne Group is essential to the Organ Islands. If we try to 'attack' them, the fallout could be catastrophic. They provide work for our citizens, promote our island's commerce, and even draw outsiders to our ports. And how would the people respond? Remember the tax hikes two years ago—they'll stand with the Wayne Group over the Mayor's office any day!" His voice boomed as he slammed a hand on the table, prompting several other servants to rise in agreement.
It was clear, the Wayne Group's influence had grown beyond what anyone in the Mayor's office could control.
Mayor Arthur remained silent, his expression sour as the room erupted into heated debate.
"Enough! I don't want to hear another word!" he barked, silencing the room. He rubbed his temples, trying to stop a growing headache.
He had once thought he could leverage the Iron Bull drink, acquiring it from the Wayne Group and selling it himself. But that brat had ignored all his letters, even daring to send a curt response demanding he stop.
Worse, pressure from the nobles he answered to had left him with no allies. He had lost backers, influence, and control over his own office. And it was all that brat's fault.
At this rate it wouldn't take long before the entire Mayor's office turn their backs on him and he's left to fend himself.
"Fine! The earlier suggestion won't happen, but it's about time they pay taxes to our Mayor's office! Someone get into contact with them." Mayor Arthur concluded and with a slap on the table the meeting ended, legal servants storming out alongside the Deputy Mayor.