"I'm moved by our reunion after such a long separation, benevolent Minister Moriarty."
A deep, magnetic voice slowly rang out from the depths of Dawn City's palace. "May all the gods bless you for your mercy, glory, holiness, and all the rites and good deeds you have performed."
If one heard only this voice, one would imagine a mature, elegant, steady middle-aged man.
He might be wearing a suit, a priest's robe, or perhaps a classical nobleman's robe. He should have neatly groomed hair and a beard, with warm, tranquil eyes. The words slowly flowing from his throat would be like the deep tolling of a bell in the depths of a temple, making people feel peaceful and content.
Yet the truth was not so.
The one bowing before Iver was an incredibly ugly goblin.
His face was misshapen and twisted, with one eye large and the other small. He was even uglier than ordinary goblins. He stood slightly taller than a normal goblin, while his skin was a rare and filthy mottled green—as though pale green, grass green, dark green, and other shades had been roughly mixed together on a palette, resembling a human suffering from vitiligo.
One of the ivory-white fangs on his face was exposed, along with the crimson gums around it. The muscles of his face were tangled together in a peculiar fashion. He looked crooked in the eyes and mouth... yet somehow possessed an inexplicably striking, spirited bearing.
Unlike his ugly face, he was meticulously groomed. He wore a black formal suit made of soft, high-quality fabric, which had not picked up even a speck of dust despite being in the desert.
—This was precisely Dragon Trader, Hidden in the Horse's Belly, Grandet Dead-Eye.
He could be considered one of Iver's old friends.
He had