Anair, a town roughly 15 kilometers away from Tellier.

The sun had only just begun to rise in the sky.

Inside a certain pub, a pair of bleary-eyed servers were leaning against the glass, yawning with weary expressions, and the manager of the pub, who was standing behind the bar, also had a rather absentminded look on his face, looking at the ray of sunlight passing through the entrance with a blank expression. It was clear that getting up so early had been quite a painful experience for all three of them.

Right at this moment, Bracken and a few of his subordinates swaggered into the pub, then dropped the wooden crates that they were carrying on their shoulders onto the floor with a string of dull thumps, snapping the two weary servers out of their half-asleep state.

Having already managed the pub for quite a few years, the manager was naturally able to identify that Bracken and his men were nothing but trouble, and he couldn't help but gulp nervously as he lamented his own ill fortune. The pub had only just opened for business for the day, and it was already being visited by a group of uncouth mercenaries. This was clearly not a good start.

"What can I help you with?" the manager asked as he hurriedly emerged from behind the bar with a fawning smile.

"We have a business proposal for you. Are you interested?" Bracken asked with a serious expression.

"That'll depend on what you're proposing. I'm afraid...