Daylight had just broken, and the Riverside Market was already boiling.

  Someone was offering a high price of 2,500 Kroner per jar to buy 500 jars of a specific jam. Who had this jam?

  Most vendors were full of regret. They shouldn’t have been so cold to that tall young man yesterday afternoon. What did the bottle in his hand look like?

  Wide-mouthed? Big-bellied round bottle?

  An octagonal prism?

  Wasn't this the sauce bottle produced on the opposite bank?

  Because they really couldn't remember the look of that bottle and didn't know what the jam was called, the vendors were now huddled in small groups, chatting.

  Only one diner owner didn’t join the chatter. She was too busy; the vendors had all come to her shop for breakfast this morning.

  The diner was crowded, a good place to exchange intel.

  The owner was a woman in her thirties with a very loud voice: "Barrett! Go buy five kilos of meat and ten kilos of leafy greens!"

  Barrett was a youth around fifteen or sixteen whose leg had been injured by a missile, walking with a limp.

  When he took the money, his eyes lit up. Inside that thick stack of Kroner bills, there was a slip of paper torn from a grid notebook.

  He took the big wad of money and quickly stuffed it into a cloth bag.

  Lately, the speed of currency devaluation was truly ridiculous. You had to use a cloth bag to carry money for shopping. Swapping a kilo of paper money for ten kilos of pork was a normal occurrence.

  Barrett was illiterate.

  But any slip of paper the boss lady handed him could only be shown to a chubby pork merchant. From the looks, it was clear the pork merchant was the boss lady’s older brother.

  "Alright, 3 kilos of half-fat-half-lean and 2 kilos of lean meat. Here you go... whatever is written on the note... Look closely, kid, I'm not short-changing you!"

  The man, whose belly was so big he couldn't even button his shirt, shouted loudly. Barrett pretended he could read and stuck his head over.

  The pork merchant pretended not to know the diner owner. He had to play along.

  Does he not know that I saw through this long ago?

  Today, the pork merchant specifically mentioned "3 kilos of half-fat-half-lean, 2 kilos of lean meat," making Barrett extra suspicious.

  For such a simple sentence, the boss lady wouldn't write it on paper.

  She would usually say: "Barrett, go buy meat, 3 kilos half-fat-half-lean, 2 kilos lean. Move your lame leg faster... wobbling around, it's embarrassing!"

  Could this be related to the jam everyone was looking for?

  On his way back to the diner, Barrett intentionally took a turn and went to the urban village where he rented. He whispered a few words into the ear of a young man at a picture-book stall. The young man just nodded and didn't speak.

  Domenic got the grid paper note at 7:30 AM. The homeless man had personally run to the hospital to deliver it to him.

  The content was actually that the jam needed a pre-order and could be discussed in person.

  He gave the homeless man 30 Kroner and complained casually: "I've actually received over 400 bottles. It doesn't matter if I see this owner or not, but thanks for your hard work."

  The homeless man was an honest person. He pulled out 20 Kroner. "I also took 20 Kroner from her. You should meet her, otherwise, I can't explain it."

  "A woman? Fine. Tell her to meet me at the hospital entrance. As you can see, my mother is lying in the hospital bed."

  The homeless man, having received the benefits, nodded and left. After a while, he really brought back a chubby woman.

  The woman stood in the hospital corridor holding a half-empty jar of jam as a sample.

  Domenic took a small taste—sweet and sour, exactly this flavor.

  The chubby woman seemed not to believe Domenic's words at all. "This thing is only in my house. How could you receive 400 bottles? It's fake, right?"

  "Uh? Even if it's fake, I have to sell it before I can restock. Or throw it away?" A nonchalant Domenic straightened his blue-and-white shirt, intentionally revealing the British commercial label hidden inside his cuff.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  Caspar, wearing a military uniform, walked out of the ward and spoke to Domenic very humbly with his head down:

  "Young Master, Madam is awake. She’s calling for you."

  The chubby woman and the homeless man’s eyes both lit up. A soldier, calling him Young Master? He really was a big shot.

  Domenic looked displeased at his father's most loyal subordinate: "I haven't finished this business yet! Forget it, forget it. Go back and see Mother first, or Father will be angry again..."

  Turning around, Domenic said to the woman: "How about this? You bring 10 bottles first. I'll let my father identify the goods. If your goods are truly better than the current ones, we'll order from you for the next batch."

  He then muttered: "You guys came too late. Someone knocked on my door at midnight last night..."

  Ten bottles were no problem at all for the chubby woman. She and Domenic exchanged phone numbers and then she went back.

  Caspar had been called by Tatiana. Tatiana wanted him to meet Antonio as a soldier and have Antonio take him to the jail to visit Ramon.

  So, Caspar was just acting along for Domenic just now, acting according to the ancient dramas on TV.

  He left the ward carrying a big bag of things. There were nutrients for Ramon, a latex seat cushion for Antonio, and of course, a share for Caspar—a mid-range watch that could be pawned for about one-sixth of a month's salary.

  Caspar originally thought there was money or a check hidden inside the cushion for Antonio. He had secretly pulled it out to check on the way. Besides a layer of latex and a washable cotton cover, there was nothing.

  Strange. The gift he received was several times more expensive than Antonio's gift. If Tatiana hadn't repeatedly warned him, he once thought he had misheard.

  ...

  East Bank, Marida County.

  Mateo, the black market boss, saw his eyes light up at the small order note. 50 bottles hadn't even been delivered yet, and now the other side wanted 100 more. They even asked if he could guarantee a stable supply if a big merchant wanted the goods, and if the price was negotiable, saying the big merchant’s offer was quite low.

  Separated by a river, Mateo actually didn't understand what the hell they were doing on the other side. A bottle of handmade jam, the wholesale price is almost 3 dollars, and it can actually sell this well?

  Who is actually buying this jam?

  If the Central Military District hadn't taken over the Beldora camp yesterday, he would have sent someone to the other side to investigate for sure.

  Mateo didn't know a single person in the Central Military District.

  He thought for a bit. According to reason, Roan should deliver 50 bottles today. Wait for Roan to come and ask clearly if a large batch can be stably supplied.

  As for a price cut? Don't even think about it.

  Mateo had a virtue: he never let the brothers following him lose out. Since the demand was so large, cutting the price was impossible.

  Only if Roan could make money could he make money.

  At this time, Roan was training. On the first day of restoring his military status, he had to train seriously. He planned to wait until the afternoon to go to the Beldora roadside to stop a car and see if he could catch one going to the county town.

  Ryker’s training for the reserve forces was very casual—just running for ten minutes and then dismissing everyone.

  His energy for the whole morning was on Roan.

  Teaching Roan to march and stand straight. He spent half an hour on each goose-stepping session and stood perfectly still for an hour each time.

  Roan had learned this before, but not seriously. He went to the battlefield at 15; what he learned seriously was shooting, flanking attacks, and self-treating injuries.

  Goose-stepping?

  Standing guard?

  In the past, these were flashy but useless things.

  Yet, Ryker insisted on teaching only these things. For the sake of the 3,000 Pesos he got every month, Roan didn't dare defy him.

  Whatever Ryker wanted him to practice, he practiced honestly.

  Seeing Roan standing perfectly straight on the training ground, looking tall and handsome, Sienna felt very bitter inside.

  Her good roommate, Camila, had told her never to date such a poor man. But now, Roan had restored his military status, and it was even with the Central Military District. Although the pay was said to be low, that was the Central Military District! There was a chance to be transferred to the capital.

  He had suddenly pulled ahead of miserable support force soldiers like them by several levels.

  Sienna intentionally walked in front of Roan and smiled at him, but the hateful thing was that Roan didn't even glance at her.

  Instead, that dark-skinned battalion commander took a few extra looks at Sienna's early-maturing teenage figure.

  This guy was a bit dark-skinned, but he was still better than those two losers, Elias and Matthew. The only downside was that he was a bit old—27 years old, a full 8 years older than Sienna.

  Whatever, 8 years is 8 years.

  Sienna decided to shift her focus to these two men in the future. She would swallow both of these men into her stomach; not a single one would be left for Elena.

  At noon, Elias was going to Beldora to buy medicine. The camp doctor only applied a bit of iodine to the wound on his face. Not to mention the black patch was ugly, it didn't seem to have much effect on reducing the swelling.

  Because he felt Sienna was standing on his side now, Elias specifically went to tell Sienna to spite Matthew.

  He calculated that if Sienna agreed, they would intentionally walk past Matthew's door together, or intentionally loiter in Juana’s sight.

  Of course, Elias wouldn't say this thought out loud.

  That would make him look ungentlemanly as a man.

  Coincidentally, Sienna thought the same way.

  She was beaten by Matthew’s grandmother yesterday, but Matthew just watched and didn't help. She was looking for a place to vent her anger.

  Besides, accompanying Elias to the street to buy medicine not only made her look sensible and caring, but she could also get her own medicine for free on his tab.

  Her neck was also scratched by Matthew’s grandmother with a clear blood mark, and her scalp bumped against the corner of a wall, bleeding a little.

  Now, if Elias wasn't willing to spite Matthew, Sienna wouldn't even be happy.

  She walked shoulder-to-shoulder with Elias past Juana, who was weeding, and intentionally called out, "Hello, Auntie." Juana was so angry her eyeballs literally bulged out, and the large amount of white showing in her eyes looked terrifying.

  The two circled into the village again and walked past Matthew’s front door.

  As a result, Matthew’s yard gate was tightly closed, which was a bit disappointing.

  Across the street, Daniel’s wife was coaxing her fat son. Daniel’s voice was very loud:

  "Mom, call Elena to come eat dinner again tonight."

  "I know." Bob’s wife was washing baby diapers and answered very loudly too. "There were many boiled eggs left over yesterday; it’s a waste to throw them away. That little face is so thin; it looks like she hasn't eaten any nutrition in the camp."

  "I'm so mad! Do they have to fatten up that bitch Elena? You’re just her foster parents, not her real mother! What is wrong with you?"

  Sienna muttered in her heart as she and Elias left Matthew’s door.

  The first time she’s seen people begging to be someone’s foster parents, hmph!