"Hmm." Charles leaned closer to the mirror, scrutinizing his reflection.


    He didn’t often look at himself in the mirror, and now, seeing his face, it felt strangely unfamiliar.


    "Have I changed this much? I don’t remember looking like this," Charles muttered to himself.


    "What did Mr. Charles look like before?"


    "I can’t quite remember, but I’m sure I wasn’t this fierce-looking," Charles said as he put his clothes back on.


    After staring for a while longer, Charles turned to the gunner on the table. "Come on, Lily, let’s take a walk around the streets."


    "Okay!" Lily nodded excitedly.


    The man and the mouse left the captain’s quarters and stepped onto the deck of the Narwhal.


    From the deck, they looked out at Hope Island. The once simple grass huts had been renovated, now taller and wider.


    If the previous huts were like a crooked centipede, the current ones resembled a giant octopus sprawling across the island, its "tentacles" spreading as people’s needs grew.


    In the distance, people wearing wide-brimmed hats moved in and out of the "octopus" like ants.


    When Charles reached the beach, a street within one of the "tentacles" came into view.


    On either side of the street, low houses had begun to appear. Since Charles had forbidden tree cutting, most houses were made of stone. To prevent collapses, many still lacked roofs.


    Despite their simplicity, these buildings somehow created a lively atmosphere.


    Charles walked slowly along the street, holding Lily in his hand. He examined the goods displayed on stone counters, surprised to find they weren’t much fewer than on Coral Island.


    "Should I praise their business acumen or their fearlessness? The island’s just been established, and they’re already here to trade, without even a safe route explored."


    "Mr. Charles, I want that," Lily pointed to a shop selling drinks.


    "Banana wine? Is this made from bananas?" Charles pointed to the light brown liquid in a large jar.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    "Yes, sir. Made from the bananas named by the Governor himself. You won’t find this on other islands. Would you like to try?"


    Perhaps due to his changed appearance, the shopkeeper didn’t realize the Governor was standing before him.


    Charles was surprised by the price of 300 Echoes. He hadn’t expected a cup of wine to be so expensive.


    "Sir, the Agriculture Department has set prices for bananas, and the supply is limited. I was lucky to get my hands on some. The price is justified."


    Charles said nothing more, handing over the money. He had indeed issued that order.


    Among fruits, bananas were the richest in starch, making them ideal as a staple food.


    He needed to preserve seeds and have Fred expand banana plantations. An island relying on imported food would be inconvenient.


    Banana trees took ten months to bear fruit, but they produced abundantly—up to a hundred bananas per tree. While not as high-yielding as sweet potatoes, they could rival corn.


    As for storage, bananas could be sun-dried into banana chips. Hope Island’s variety was low in sugar, making them durable.


    Lily excitedly took the cup, sipping through a straw before nodding enthusiastically. "Mr. Charles, this banana wine is delicious! Want to try?"


    The shopkeeper’s expression was a mix of disgust at a mouse drinking from his cup and shock that the mouse could talk.


    "If you like it, drink more," Charles said before turning to the pot-bellied man. "Friend, is this street safe?"


    "Well…" The man hesitated.


    "What’s wrong? Any issues?" Charles was surprised. Had order already been disrupted?


    "It’s safe, but that young masked sheriff is too harsh. Theft gets a hand chopped off, and robbery leads to public execution. Everyone’s walking on eggshells."


    "Is that so…"


    "Honestly, the Governor giving such power to a kid is reckless with lives."


    Seeing Lily glare at the shopkeeper, Charles returned the cup.


    "Maybe, but at least we’re free of other islands’ troubles."


    With that, Charles and Lily walked into the crowd.


    Dipp might be impulsive, but staying in his position would help him find his way.


    As they walked, Charles noticed things unseen on other islands.


    Followers of the Church of Light, crew members of exploration ships, and early settlers—regardless of identity, everyone exuded vitality.


    Hope Island was full of opportunities. Anyone could make a living here, and with quick thinking, one could strike it rich.


    Soon, they reached a large square. The wide grass roof overhead indicated they were at the "octopus’s" center.


    A massive notice board stood in the square, surrounded by a dense crowd.


    As Charles approached, he heard someone explaining the new decree to illiterate companions.


    "Basically, it’s about selling land on Hope Island. Buy a plot, and you’re a permanent resident. There’s an extra clause—inheriting land requires an inheritance tax."


    "How much does it cost?"


    "Prices vary by distance from the island’s center. The cheapest is 2 million Echoes."


    "By the Sun God! How much land is there? No wonder they say becoming a Governor solves money problems."


    "Whatever you choose, I’m buying a plot. I’m retiring here. Settling on this island is better than anywhere else, and it’s the least likely to sink."


    Lily looked up at Charles. "Mr. Charles, you’re so rich now."


    Charles patted Lily’s head, scanning the crowd.


    They debated whether to buy and which plot was the best deal.


    But no one mentioned the infinite lands of the Land of Light.


    "Hey, didn’t the Governor say the Land of Light is above? With infinite land, why care about this?" Charles tapped someone’s shoulder.


    The man gave Charles a disdainful look. "Are you a child? Believing everything you hear? Even if the Land of Light exists, the Governor would tax us commoners at the entrance."