This Beast-Tamer is a Little Strange

Reginald, the owner of the Golden Brew Syndicate, leaned his rotund body back in his plush office chair, a self-satisfied smile spreading across his face as he gazed out the window at the bustling streets of the Eastern Region.

His mind wandered to the long string of zeros accumulating in his bank account, courtesy of his thriving knockoff operation. The Spiritual Beer company, owned by that young prodigy Kain, was raking in the money, and Reginald saw no reason why he shouldn't get a slice of the pie.

'They're making a fortune, and they should share some of it,' Reginald thought to himself, his eyes gleaming with envy. 'My Golden Brew Beer may not be a true spiritual beer, but it's just as good, if not better. The taste is spot on, and people can barely tell the difference.' He chuckled, feeling a sense of pride and justification. 'I'm not a scammer, I'm just a clever businessman. And who needs spiritual power in a beer, anyway? It's all about the taste and the brand.'

As he sat at his desk, Reginald's eyes fell upon a newspaper article on his desk. The front page featured a photo of Kain, the young owner of the Spiritual Beer company, with a caption that read: "Spiritual Beer Sales Skyrocket: Kain's Company Leads the Market." Reginald's smile decreased slightly as he read the article, his mind filled with shameless thoughts.

'Look at him,' Reginald thought in resentment and envy. 'Thinks he's so much better than everyone else just because he's got a few patents and a fancy brewing process. But I know the truth. I know that it's all about the marketing and the branding. And I'm the one who's been able to replicate his success, albeit without the spiritual power.'

Reginald's eyes scanned the article, and he noticed a quote from Kain about the importance of using high-quality ingredients and adhering to strict brewing standards. Reginald snorted in derision.

'Please, like anyone actually cares about that,' he thought.

Just then, Reginald's assistant walked in with a fresh copy of the daily newspaper. Reginald took it from him and began to scan the headlines. His eyes widened as he saw the front-page article: "Beware of Fake Spiritual Beer: Poisoning Case Reported in Eastern Region."

Reginald's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure when he saw his assistant staring at him nervously. "Ah, yes, that," he said. "Just a minor setback. A few people got sick from drinking our beer, but that's not our fault. Perhaps they added something to the beer after they bought it and got sick. It's not like we're responsible for their lack of common sense."

His assistant didn't appear fully convinced, but as a true slave to capitalism he really couldn't care about that customer. His boss paid his salary and he knew questioning his boss wouldn't keep him on his good side. So he simply nodded his agreement and left.

Reginald stood up from his desk and decided to take a walk through his factory. As he walked through the doors, he was greeted by a slightly mildewy smell coming from some of the older stacks of barley that they bought for cheap and the sound of clanging machinery. The factory was a cramped, unsanitary space, with workers rushing to meet the demand for the knockoff beer.

Reginald walked through the factory, nodding to his workers as he passed by. He saw rows of vats filled with a murky liquid, and workers stirring the mixture with large wooden spoons. The air was thick with the smell of fermentation, and Reginald could feel the heat emanating from the vats.

As he walked, Reginald noticed a group of workers gathered around a large tank, staring at something in horror. Reginald's curiosity got the better of him, and he walked over to investigate. When he saw what was inside the tank, he immediately got angry.

"Why are you all just standing there!"

A rat had somehow crawled into the tank and paddling was around in the beer. Reginald reached in and plucked out the rat. And tossed it into a corner of the room.

Its wet body scrambled up unsteadily and scampered away to a dark area of the room.

"Do…Do we need to throw this batch?" A worker hesitantly asked.

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"Are you stupid?! Why would you throw away a perfectly good batch?! Keep working! God, it's so hard to get good help these days."

The workers still looked at him nervously, but Reginald just winked at them. "Don't worry, boys, it's all perfectly safe. Not to mention that the customers certainly won't be able to taste any difference."

People always overreacted to a little dirt. A rat in the vat? Please. Do they think all beer is made in some pristine, holy temple? His beer still tasted great. That's all that mattered.

Reginald continued his tour of the factory, nodding to his workers and making notes on a clipboard. As he walked, he thought about his plans for expansion into the Southern Region. Due to that stupid poisoning case that he was being blamed for, fewer and fewer people were buying his Golden Brew Beer, and that annoying Spiritual Beer company owned by Kain was capitalizing on their misfortune making sure to tell everyone to only purchase their certified beer from official distributors.

Reginald wanted to try his luck in the Southern Region, but he needed to recruit new people to help with the export and selling of his knockoff 'spiritual beer' in the new region.

Just as he was thinking about this, Reginald's assistant approached him with a curious expression. "Sir, the applicant you had us call back from the resume she submitted has arrived," he said. "She's waiting outside the factory."

Reginald's eyes sparkled with interest. "Ah, yes, excellent!" he said, his voice taking on a drawn out tone he felt was charming.

The assistant nodded and walked out of the factory, returning a moment later with a petite woman with striking red hair and an attractive face. From the moment Reginald had seen the photo attached to her resume, he'd felt that she would make an excellent addition to the business.

As soon as she stepped inside, Reginald's instincts flared. That body, that face—yes, she would do just fine. A woman like that could draw in customers, smooth over deals, and perhaps... provide him with some entertainment on the side.

"Welcome, welcome," Reginald said, his voice smooth as silk. "What brings you to our humble syndicate?"

The woman smiled, and Reginald's heart skipped a beat. "I'm looking for a job," she said, her voice sweet and melodious. "I heard you might be hiring and submitted a resume. I actually wasn't very hopeful since I have no experience. I'm so honored to just be called back!"

Reginald's eyes roved over her face and petite body in form fitting clothes meant to accentuate her curves, and he couldn't help but think about how easily he could charm her into his bed. After all, he could sense that she was just an ordinary person, and as a 2-star beast-tamer, although he was considered low-level among beast-tamers, he was still a prized catch for an ordinary person.

"Ah, yes, we are hiring," he said, his voice low and husky. "And I think you might just be the perfect candidate."

The woman seemed oblivious to Reginald's lecherous thoughts and stared at him with wide sparkling eyes filled with admiration, and he found himself becoming even more attracted to her. "What's your name, my dear?" he asked, his voice dripping with charm.

The woman hesitated for a moment before responding, "You can call me... Miy—ahem, Mary."