On Great Tayman Island, the port district, warehouse district, residential district, and farming district—each functional area was orderly and clearly delineated.

Outsiders mainly congregated in the port district, their activities confined, at most, to the small town.

Although their initial desire to seize the abandoned native city and massively encroach on Yucatan Island's land had failed, even normal trade with the island's natives was enough to make a fortune.

This was especially true now that both great overlords were in decline, the east-west trade routes were open, and the Pioneer Guiding Colonial Trading Company guaranteed the safety of merchant ships.

Far from withdrawing from this International Port, Georgetown Port became even more prosperous as increasing numbers of people converged there.

And when the population grew diverse enough and the system sufficiently chaotic, certain anticipated events were bound to occur.

TAP, TAP, TAP…

At the border between the developed area and the mountains, which were not open to outsiders, a file of soldiers in red uniforms, a unit of the Musketeer Corps, marched past.

"Tomorrow we rest. Tonight, let's all go to the Song of the Nightingale. I'm buying, and we're not returning until we're drunk."

"The captain is always so generous. Life in Georgetown now probably isn't much worse than in the Royal Port of Jamestown."

"Indeed. I'm going to apply for an internal loan from the Governor's Mansion and buy a house to settle down."

"Really? Congratulations, congratulations..."

These were the fifty members of the Marines who had initially accompanied Royal Hound Vincent when he took office.

After the latter's Spiritual Body became the chief steward, they too became part of the peripheral defense system.

As night fell, a line of Redcoats, having handed over their duties to the next watch, were about to return to town.

But Blair, a soldier walking at the end of the column, took advantage of his comrades' inattention and suddenly ducked into the dense thickets that were everywhere.

He quickly stripped off his conspicuously red and white military uniform, turned it inside out, and put it back on.

The inner lining of the military uniform had been pre-sewn with a layer of dark blue canvas. With just a roll on the ground, the soldier blended perfectly into the night.

Following prearranged markers, he ran wildly into the depths of the forest.

He stopped only when he reached an invisible barrier, finding himself unable to enter, as if he had lost all sense of direction.

What treasure could be hidden in this forbidden area, that those people would go to such lengths to bribe me to be an inside agent?

The seas teemed with all kinds of strange treasures.

As a Lord establishing a forbidden zone on the island, hiding secrets, he was under no obligation to explain his methods to anyone.

But the title that symbolized wealth, 'Mithril Dragon,' worn by Miss Catherine, Countess Grendel, had become far more dazzling than 'Flower of the North,' which represented her beauty.

Watching the International Port rake in vast sums daily, it was only natural for envious parties to make probing moves.

Especially when the Governor's Mansion had recently acquired a batch of lumber processing equipment that went in but never came out, it immediately caught the attention of certain interested parties.

Miss Catherine, I didn't want to be a traitor, but they offered too much. It's enough for me to return to the Kingdom during the monsoon season, buy an estate, and live the rest of my life as a wealthy man. I can only apologize.

Soldier Blair looked around. Seeing no one, he placed a small, pale-golden mouse from his waist pouch on the ground.

It was an extremely precious Extraordinary Creature, a Gold-Seeking Mouse, which could instinctively bypass all sorts of traps and magical Arrays to find the most valuable treasure nearby.

It was also a coveted contract creature for professions such as Treasure Hunter and Beast Tamer.

Unfortunately, before they could act, two ghastly pale shadows silently emerged behind Blair.

When he felt a chill run down his spine and instinctively turned to look, the silhouettes of two Undead Servants had barely registered in his eyes before he was possessed in an instant.

The bodies of both man and mouse suddenly stiffened.

Then the forest parted of its own accord. Catherine, in a sea-green dress and high heels, and Byron arrived arm in arm, walking through the forest as if it were their own living room.

The traitor, soldier Blair, paled instantly, realizing he had been exposed, though he knew not when.

Unable to move, he could only beg, "Miss Catherine, Your Excellency, I beg you, spare me! I have a wife and children in the Old Continent; they threatened me with their lives! I was forced!"

Catherine and Byron didn't even glance at him.

"Loyalty is indeed a variable," Catherine remarked. "One day it's above the threshold, and the next it suddenly plummets below the warning line."

"The most critical issue is that the International Port is teeming with people, right under the spotlight of the entire Bantaan Archipelago. No matter how secretly things are done, clues can still emerge."

"After this forestry harvest, we should consider separating the production base from the port operations."

She casually tossed an axe in front of Blair and waved him off. "We're short-handed for logging. You might as well get to work."

The invisible barrier that had blocked others vanished, and the three of them smoothly entered the logging area.

Before them, a group of figures with eyes like ghostly flames toiled, felling trees.

These were all intelligence agents from various factions who had committed offenses in the port.

In the Tayman Archipelago, a Royal Domain under the Golden Law system, the Emperor held supreme authority and could freely issue Custom Decrees.

Among all criminals, those with the most severe offenses were usually transformed directly into Blood of Metamorphosis.

Those with lesser crimes were sent here, becoming laborers controlled by Undead Servants, responsible for tending the spice trees and teak trees in the forest.

A full three months had passed since the spice and teak saplings were planted.

Under the combined effect of two specialized farming-type Sacred Relics—Crystal Skull No. 3 and the Golden Toilet—they had all fully matured.

The thin layer of dark soil underfoot looked as if oil could be squeezed from it.

All five hundred spice trees had been treated using methods like drilling, burning, and infection with True Red Oil Fungus to stimulate the trees to secrete oils that combined with the wood.

They had already been rapidly transformed into genuine Spices.

Byron scraped lightly with a dagger. A layer of golden powder remained on the blade, shimmering with fluorescent specks under the moonlight, more dazzling than gold itself.

In this state, no characteristic aroma of Spices could be detected, only a faint, oily, woody scent.

This indicated that the medicinal properties of the Spice were well-contained and the quality was exceptionally high.

Indeed, agricultural knowledge is the correct way to unlock Crystal Skull No. 3's potential. In just three months, the quality of these Spices surpasses even the premium batch produced by the pioneers on Tayman Brak Island through Blood Sacrifices. Spices of this quality would be more than adequate for the promotion needs of mid-to-high Sequence Transcendents. Besides personal use, they can be used to sway high officials in the Kingdom—a guaranteed success every time, more coveted than any treasure.

The core of the struggle for the Spice Archipelago was Spices, this precious substance representing a source of Extraordinary Power.

They allowed for rapid enhancement of Spirituality, strengthened a Navigator's perception, and served as auxiliary fuel for lighthouses to illuminate the Spiritual World, protecting colonies from Bizarre attacks.

Spices were essential for overseas colonization—a true hard currency!

Catherine also pinched a little between her delicate fingertips. When she ignited it with spiritual flame, an intoxicated expression appeared on her face. "Unfortunately, plans can't keep up with changes. I originally thought the local inhabitants' development of this island was quite limited."

"When these Spices and teak matured, we could have claimed we stumbled upon them while exploring the island, and it would have been completely reasonable."

"But now the island is crawling with crafty individuals. These people won't believe any nonsense we feed them. We really do need to relocate quickly."

"They may not be adept at farming, but they are experts at plunder and extortion."

"Indeed," Byron agreed wholeheartedly.

National characteristics differ. For the nations of the Old Continent, the mainstream approach is to plunder when strong and trade when weak. They rarely take the initiative in production. It's like those disaster stories I used to read. I could never understand why the protagonists were always scurrying around, scrounging for supplies. In an apocalypse, shouldn't the correct approach be to find a good place to farm, settle down, restore production order, and reclimb the technology tree? But no, they just take.

Fortunately, Byron Lancaster, now possessing the blood of the Bayfolk, embodied traits from both civilizations: he knew how to diligently cultivate the land and also how to pragmatically appropriate what was needed. He would pursue both, ensuring strength in each! Robbing money, Spices, and people; farming, smelting iron, trading... then repeating the cycle.

"Clear all the teak and prepare to load it onto the ships," Byron commanded.

Currently, the Pioneer Guiding Colonial Trading Company was rapidly expanding in terms of its Fleet, personnel numbers, and their capabilities.

His new generation of shipbuilding plans was also on the agenda.

This included not just Tudor Hybrid Sailboats, but even more formidable vessels.

In fact, ever since they had money, they had procured sufficient raw materials from off-island.

These were being used by Shipwright Little Hans, following precise blueprints, to oversee construction.

Using the ability of Crystal Skull No. 8—Morning Star, the Light of Knowledge—they significantly accelerated the construction speed.

In a few months, the world would see its first completed Tudor Hybrid Sailboat.

There was a strong possibility that upon its successful construction, it would simultaneously be upgraded into a powerful Sacred Relic!

And this time, they had harvested a full two thousand high-quality teak trees, enough to build even a Third Rate Ship.

Byron's goal was to achieve it all in one step: to build a Heavy Cruiser capable of single-handedly defeating even a Third Rate Ship!

Even without the constant stream of spies and traitors, a small island lacks the fundamental requirements for heavy industry: iron ore, fuel, timber, an adequate labor force, land resources... all are sorely lacking. Establishing a new fortress city on Yucatan Island is imperative.

Of course, Byron had another private thought he hadn't dared share with Catherine.

The designated builder of the industrial system... Violet is about to arrive. Separation is essential!