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Julian took out his lighter, lit Ernst\'s cigarette, then his own. Together with Carrell, the two had engaged in fierce competition within Ternell City, though they had managed to restrain themselves from using outright violence. Still, the price war had become vicious, with the wholesale price of bootleg liquor dropping by one to two dollars, thinning their profits. In the eyes of the public, they seemed on the verge of bloody conflict. What people didn\'t know was that, on the outside, the three had already seized substantial profits in the external bootleg markets, surpassing the local market returns.

At the same time, their apparent infighting also connected to the growing influx of outside bootleg liquor into Ternell. This wasn\'t just about recreating the thrill of "first love"; their actions may have awakened those previously content with the local market, prompting bootleggers across various territories to start expanding outward.

A large quantity of out-of-town bootleg liquor began pouring into Ternell, and in order to protect their market, a price war became essential. The three took turns slashing prices, catching the outside competition off guard. They had come to seize market share, only to find Ternell\'s market already cutthroat. Apart from a few premium brands targeting high-end consumers, the middle- and low-end competitors had all retreated.

Unable to bear the costs, especially with high transport expenses, outside sellers simply couldn\'t compete with local bootleggers amidst the ongoing price war.

In other cities, however, bootleggers were less organized, not yet forming a tightly knit alliance like a trade union, leaving them defenseless against similarly priced but slightly better quality imports. This allowed Ternell\'s bootlegging trio to rake in substantial profits, so much so that even Carrell, the smallest shareholder, was often seen smiling and cracking jokes with those around him.

So the harmony between Julian and Ernst wasn\'t entirely an act—it was genuine!

Julian glanced toward the direction in which the girl had left, exhaling a puff of smoke. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "What\'s the story? Got any other interesting details?"

Ernst nodded, crossing his legs as he recounted in detail.

Flayna wasn\'t an ordinary girl. She knew the theater director coveted her youth and beauty, yet she still managed to stir up two tycoons to compete for her against the director. Sadly, she hadn\'t achieved the freedom she wanted. Both tycoons had since become part of Ternell\'s history, ruined by bankruptcy and eventual suicide due to various "accidents." And yet, Flayna continued to do the same, hoping for a "hero" who could vanquish the "villain" and rescue her.

However, she never considered what would happen if the "hero" couldn\'t defeat the "villain"… Right, she\'d simply seek out the next hero.

After listening to Ernst\'s explanation, Julian smacked his lips and chuckled. Clearly, no one who could survive in this environment was simple.

Seeing that Julian understood, Ernst patted his shoulder and stood up to leave. His seat was in the fourth row, not here.

After about half an hour of social mingling, people finally returned to their seats, and the charity gala commenced. The host was the Ternell Director of Education, responsible for the city\'s imperial citizen education. Rumor had it that the new party planned an administrative restructuring and rebranding in the upcoming midterm elections. But for now, this elderly man with gold-rimmed glasses, snow-white hair, and a solemn face still carried the air of a seasoned politician, presiding over the city\'s education department.

He cleared his throat, and the hall instantly quieted. The elderly man began with some old, yet socially accepted words of blessing, hypocritically encouraging more attention to education. Then he droned on about how, with the interest and support of many tycoons and elites, Ternell\'s education had improved significantly in recent years. He also reminded the guests that 30% of the funds raised tonight would go directly into the Education Department\'s account to fund more "affordable" education, broadening citizens\' access to knowledge.

While Julian sat bored in the theater, participating in what was ultimately a dull charity auction, outside the theater, a car washer holding a bucket and looking dazed suddenly jolted awake. He remembered who that familiar figure belonged to!

It was that hardworking young man, so meticulous about his work that it annoyed the others. Rather than just brushing off the dust for a decent reward, he went out of his way to thoroughly clean each car, forcing the others to put in more effort to earn the same pay. Because of this, the washer had reported him to Mad Dog, sparking a conflict between himself and the young man.

Perhaps he was just working here; maybe the car wasn\'t even his, just one he had parked for someone else.

The skinny man justified his findings to himself, as there was no logical way someone scraping by a few months ago could afford a car now. That car was worth at least 2,800 dollars, far beyond the reach of their class.

2,800 dollars?

Impossible!

A slight change in his expression betrayed his thoughts. Truthfully, he had no deep hatred for that young man, beyond a few days of poor business. But Mad Dog had promised a five-dollar reward for anyone who provided information about him.

Five dollars was significant; a car wash brought in about ten cents, and on a good day, he might wash three to five cars. That\'s why they were so "casual" about their job. Car wash peak hours were usually in the evenings, and not every customer was particular about a spotless vehicle. Sometimes, an entire day would pass without work. Thus, washing cars quickly to get to the next was a necessary skill for every washer.

Those five dollars equaled half a month\'s earnings on a lucky streak.

His Adam\'s apple bobbed involuntarily. He knew exactly what awaited that young man if Mad Dog caught him. Truthfully, they had no real grudge, just brief irritation that didn\'t even qualify as hatred.

But… it was still five dollars.

He placed his bucket and tools under a lamppost, knowing his fellow washers would keep an eye on them for him. His desire for those five dollars compelled him to make a choice against his better judgment.

He would go to Mad Dog and collect those five dollars.

Someone might get hurt, or even die, because of this, but that was not his concern, was it?

Inside the theater, Julian remained unaware of the attention his brief appearance had stirred. After sitting bored for half an hour, the charity auction\'s second half finally began.

The first half featured items donated by various tycoons, things that might be of some value but weren\'t worth much in competition. According to the unwritten rules of charity auctions, the donors usually bid on their own items at a reasonable price. Unless someone really liked something, everyone would typically let the item\'s owner take it back. This was the way of the game here.

But the second half of the auction was different. These donations came mostly from Ternell\'s elites and power players. Even the smallest trinket from them could fetch a high price. Were the tycoons and wealthy men foolish? Hardly. This was how they fostered relationships with elites and officials.

The first item of the second half was a potted plant offered by one of Ternell\'s councilmen. It appeared nondescript, lacking any apparent charm, yet its first bid already exceeded the final price of every item before it.

"Three hundred dollars!" the theater\'s young staff member shouted enthusiastically, waving his gavel. "This esteemed gentleman offers three hundred dollars for this pot filled with the spirit of the wild and nature. Any higher offers?" The staff member showcased the pot, filled with weeds found by any roadside. With Julian\'s limited knowledge of art, he certainly saw nothing artistic about it.

"Five hundred dollars!"

"Five hundred fifty dollars!"

…

As bidding reached a thousand dollars, the auction was about to close. Just as the auctioneer prepared to bring down the gavel, Julian raised his hand…