It seemed these truly were descendants of the forging families Gilgamesh had left behind in the King's Treasury.
In other words, had a surviving branch of the Uruk Kingdom not completely perished?
As Lin Qiye pondered this, the group pushed their wooden carts into the middle of a broad plaza. An old man in a gray robe, leaning on a cane, was already waiting before them.
"City Lord!!"
The burly man at the front waved excitedly.
"You've finally returned..." The City Lord glanced at the carts piled high with wine barrels. A smile appeared on his wrinkled face. "Looks like today's haul was pretty good."
"A full sixty kilograms, City Lord! Enough for the city to drink for several days!"
"Well done. Later, have everyone collect two extra bags of rice."
"Thank you, City Lord!"
The burly man thanked him repeatedly, then walked past Lin Qiye with a grin and clapped him on the shoulder.
"I say, Old Six, why don't you look happy at all?"
Lin Qiye's mouth twitched, and he forced out a smile.
"Don't make things difficult for him... Old Six, we're going to have a celebratory drink. Are you coming?"
Lin Qiye decisively shook his head. "I'm not going."
"Then let's go."
The burly men did not press him. With their arms draped over one another's shoulders, they turned away laughing, leaving Lin Qiye alone in the plaza.
Just as he was about to leave, the elderly City Lord suddenly spoke.
"Old Six, wait a moment."
Lin Qiye's gaze sharpened, and he stopped.
"What is it, City Lord?" he asked, turning back.
The City Lord leaned on his cane and casually waved a hand. Someone behind him carried over a wooden box, walked up to Lin Qiye, and opened it.
Inside the wooden box lay a