Trout Town was already shrouded in complete darkness.
Under the dim streetlamps, several passing merchants spotted the hurried figure and quickly removed their hats in greeting.
"Good evening, Councillor Elton."
"Councillor, you're still out this late..."
"Hm."
Elton merely grunted through his nose. He did not slow down, or even turn his head.
The merchants' guild councillor who usually wore a smile and happily displayed his affability before the townspeople was now hurrying toward the outskirts of town.
He clutched a sheet of paper in his hand.
It was a notice just delivered by the Adventurer Guild—the commission funds needed to be replenished immediately.
"One hundred and fifty Gold Shields..."
For a merchants' guild that controlled the waterways, the money was not beyond their means if they gritted their teeth and paid up.
But he had only recently taken office. To secure his position, he had already promised away plenty of benefits, and the old foxes in the guild had been watching every one of his accounts lately.
What troubled him even more was the speed.
According to the original estimate, what they had provided earlier should have lasted at least half a month—more than enough time for those muddy-legged fools to make trouble around the trade route.
But now?
He lowered his head and glanced at the final commission expenditure listed on the report: [One hundred and twenty-one frogman flippers submitted.]
One hundred and twenty-one!
Elton's gaze turned cold.
What kind of people could clear out so many frogmen in such a short time?
Damn that Adventurer Guild. Their mouths were tighter than clam shells. They refused to say anything and only knew how to hold out their hands for money!
He had already sent a trusted subordinate to investigate, but before the results came back, he had to