Contraband

The tall, thin soldier withdrew his gaze from the carriage entering the city and stepped toward the remaining carriages behind it, preparing to continue the inspection.

After taking a few steps, he suddenly stopped, whirled around, and looked at the gray-clothed man's carriage from before. His eyes fell on the deep ruts the carriage had left in the road, and he muttered suspiciously, "If it was only carrying cloth and cotton, why was the carriage so heavy? And those two grooms looked full of energy, but their skills were a little too poor, weren't they? They hit the horses far too hard, even whipping them bloody. The clothes they wore and the whips they held were both new. One groom was clearly enough for one carriage, yet they insisted on using two. They're putting on far too much of a show of wealth... Stop!"

"Stop!" Having realized something, the tall, thin soldier shouted quickly and called to his companions at the city gate, "Stop them!"

His companions' expressions turned stern. Without hesitation, they drew their weapons with a swish and blocked the carriage just as it was about to reach the city gate.

The two grooms driving the carriage sharply pulled on the reins and brought the horses to a stop, frowning at the gray-clothed man in charge.

The gray-clothed man in charge's expression changed slightly. Then he quickly jumped down from the carriage, plastered on a smile, and approached the tall, thin soldier.

"My lord, my lord, what is it? Why have you suddenly stopped us? Have we done something wrong?"

The tall, thin soldier warily kept the man in charge more than a meter away and bluntly questioned him, "I think there's something wrong with your carriage."

"The carriage? What's wrong with the carriage?" the man in charge