Reborn As A Beastman With A System

"Uncle Reynolds, what troubles are brewing at the winery?" asked Logan, his brow furrowed in concern as he gazed across the room at his Uncle, Reynolds.

The question wasn't merely one of curiosity. Though Reynolds seemed less haughty these days, his usual poised demeanor had given way to something resembling the uncertainty of youth, a man seeking approval in unfamiliar territory. To Logan, this newfound vulnerability was unexpectedly endearing.

Reynolds' head wagged emphatically. "No...no, not at all!" His denial came out rushed, almost comical.

Begon, overhearing the exchange, struggled to stifle a giggle. His brother had transformed, under the stern guidance of his nephew, into something akin to a chastised child; both amusing and touching.

"Then proceed as usual, Uncle. You mentioned before that the winery has been making strides, haven't you?" Begon interjected, bringing a tone of seriousness to the conversation.

"Indeed, I did," Reynolds responded, regaining some of his composure. He straightened up, nodding firmly. "The winery has successfully produced sugar thrice now, managing 2,000 kilograms with each effort. We've amassed a stockpile of around 5,000 kilograms of maltose."

Logan listened, his expression unreadable as Reynolds continued, "And as for our brewing, we've completed three batches of wine. The latest yielded 11,600 kilograms just the day before yesterday. We now have roughly 20,000 kilograms of rye liquor in storage."

"And the perfumes?" Logan prompted after a brief pause.

"Around 3,000 kilograms spread across four varieties," Reynolds concluded, his voice steadier.

"Finished?" Logan asked with a small, knowing smile.

"Yes!" Reynolds replied, his nerves still on edge.

"It sounds like Uncle is performing admirably. Our tribal winery's capacity to brew 10,000 kilograms of liquor at a time marks significant progress," praised Logan, easing the tension in the air. "Given our partnership with the Elf Chamber of Commerce, it's imperative that you keep pushing to expand and enhance production, Uncle."

"I understand fully!" Reynolds exhaled a deep breath of relief, reassured by his nephew's approval.

"The winery is a cornerstone for our tribe's prosperity," Logan continued, thoughtful. "And soon, with the harvest of sweet potatoes and potatoes, we'll begin producing liquors from them as well."

Reynolds blinked in surprise. "Sweet potatoes and potatoes can make wine too?" Stay tuned for updates on m-v l'e|m,pyr

Though Begon, who lingered quietly nearby, lacked knowledge in winemaking, the idea that such familiar foods could transform into wine piqued his interest.

"Absolutely," Logan confirmed with a grin. "Not only wine, but sweet potatoes are excellent for sugar production as well. The yields may not be high, but the quality can rival that of traditional wines."

In his previous life, the choice ingredient for Russian's renowned vodka was potatoes, a staple considered among the finest for distilling spirits.

"Potatoes can make sugar too?" Reynolds asked, his astonishment evident as he struggled to grasp the new possibility.

His initial shock morphed into palpable excitement, driven by visions of the winery's expansion and the wealth it could bring to the tribe.

Noticing the spark of enthusiasm in Uncle Reynolds' eyes, Logan couldn't help but smile. "Moreover, I've secured over 2,000 gold coins worth of white wheat and rye from Canyon City on this trip. With these resources, we can push our production to its limits."

"I want the operations for brewing and sugar-making to proceed at full throttle," Logan instructed confidently.

"I'll begin expanding the winery immediately upon my return!" Reynolds declared, his voice buoyant with anticipation.

"Anything else we need to discuss?" Logan probed, his tone inviting further conversation.

Reynolds shook his head, signaling no other issues. Logan then turned to his second uncle, Begon, who also shook his head, signaling his own reticence but hinting at something unspoken.

Understanding the cue, Logan said warmly, "Uncle Reynolds, you're all set then. Go ahead, and thank you for your diligent efforts at the winery!"

With a brief, puzzled glance at his brother Begon, Reynolds nodded, understanding dawning upon him. He quickly exited the conference hall, leaving the chiefs in privacy.

As Reynolds departed, Logan rose from the chief's seat, approaching Begon with a respectful smile. "Uncle Begob, it's remarkable how much Uncle Reynolds has changed. Yet you didn't speak to him."

When they were alone, Logan maintained the respect due to an elder, his demeanor solemn yet warm.

Begon paced slowly beside his nephew, his tone reflective. "I have spoken with him. It seems the man once brimming with pride has now dimmed, shadowed by fears of inadequacy and abandonment."

"He might have been influenced by my father's stern advisories, which perhaps were overly harsh, eroding his confidence," Begon mused, a tinge of regret in his voice.

"Though his old arrogance was grating enough that your father often clashed with him, I think this change is ultimately for the better. He's throwing himself into the winery's work. Even his son mentions that he's become more tempered at home."

"It's peculiar yet positive," Begon concluded with a chuckle. "He's rejuvenated, embracing the zeal of youth once more." His smile broadened, appreciating the transformation in his brother.

As Logan approached the door of the conference hall, his footsteps echoed softly, marking his leisurely pace. He turned to Begon with a playful grin, "Uncle, you're hardly forty. Even Grandpa hesitates to call himself old."

Begon shook his head gently, his eyes reflective. "Age isn't always a measure of feeling old, you know." He watched his nephew, a thoughtful gaze lingering even as Logan reached for the door.

After a moment, Begon's voice broke the silence, tinged with a mix of melancholy and curiosity. "I've heard rumors of your advancement. Have you really reached the sixth level?"

Logan paused, turning to face Begon, his expression one of genuine surprise. "You knew?" He hadn't announced his progress yet, and it startled him that Begon had sensed his growth.

"It's not the sixth level, Uncle. I've reached the seventh," Logan corrected himself after a brief hesitation, deciding there was no reason to withhold the truth from Begon.

"Seventh level?" Begon's voice faltered, disbelief etching his features. As a seasoned level five warrior himself, the idea seemed almost inconceivable. "You're telling me you're now at the seventh level?"

"Yes," Logan affirmed with a nod, his smile broadening.

"How... I mean, I don't understand. How did you advance so quickly?" Begon stammered, his thoughts racing back to just two months prior when his father, Barnett, had mentioned Logan nearing the sixth level.

"It might have been the dragon blood potion," Logan explained casually, his tone light as if discussing something mundane. "After breaking through the sixth level, the potion had an unexpected effect, it catapulted me straight to the seventh."

"Dragon blood potion?" Begon's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and realization dawning upon him. He felt a stir of relief understanding the extraordinary aid his nephew had, but a twinge of envy also touched his heart.

"You've soared to the seventh level," Begon muttered, his voice laced with a bittersweet note. "No wonder you managed to enlist three level six warriors to our tribe."

Logan caught the slight bitterness in Begon's tone and approached him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Uncle, it's the potion, yes, but it's also the guidance I've received from warriors like you. We rise together, as a tribe." His voice carried a sincerity meant to bridge the gap between their experiences, recognizing the role Begon and others like him played in his rapid ascent.