In the airtight dark room, the dim candlelight illuminated Second Prince Shukri's ghastly pale face. On the table in front of him were two boxes and a paper bag, and sitting beside him was an old man with a kind face.
"Archbishop Brandon, what should I do?"
Second Prince Shukri looked at the side of the old man's face and spoke in a deep voice, "Charles has realized Mr. Nicholas's importance. His visit to Flower Street today was a show of force against me!"
"Your Highness, competition is inevitable," the old man said calmly. "Up until now, although The Church has obtained the magic potion formulas, we have been unable to monetize them, and many formulas are even missing crucial ingredients, making them impossible to produce."
"In this situation, we must open up the market for magic potion operations, allowing the magic potion ingredients from other countries to flow into our own. Only then can we exploit the value of these magic potion formulas."
