The Mayor's Wine Party

By day, Ye Wei'an played the part of a righteous law enforcer ridding the people of evil.

By night, he instantly fell in with the local kingpins, becoming the guest of honor for Mayor Bartok.

The banquet was held in the mayor's official residence, which featured the classic southern style of Faerûn.

A long oak dining table was draped in pristine white linen, silver cutlery shimmered under the candlelight, and the air was thick with the aroma of ale from oak barrels and golden-roasted wild boar.

Aside from the mayor, the table was occupied by the most powerful figures in Firefall Town:

The heads of the Blacksmiths' Guild and the Brewers' Guild, wealthy merchants who controlled half the grain flow in the territory, and several estate owners—men who were not only rich but also commanded significant private guards.

These big shots, who usually held Firefall Town in the palms of their hands, were sitting stiffly, their eyes darting toward Ye Wei'an at the head of the table.

Whenever Ye Wei'an cut a piece of meat or raised his glass, a chorus of near-sycophantic agreement would ripple through the room.

"My lord, your removal of that tumor Gray Crow is truly the most gratifying event in Firefall Town in a century!"

"Indeed, we were blinded by him before and even forced into business dealings with him; it was truly an agonizing experience..."

Ye Wei'an set down his glass, wiped the corner of his mouth elegantly, and a flash of purple light crossed his eyes.

Detect Thoughts activated.

If one only probed the shallow surface thoughts of others, the subjects would never realize they were being "read."

He watched these tense old foxes, fully aware of what they were thinking.

They weren't celebrating the execution of justice; they were terrified of being purged.

Gray Crow had operated in Firefall Town for years, his tentacles of smuggling and extortion reaching into every corner.

He could never have sustained such a massive operation alone; these local kingpins were, to varying degrees, his accomplices.

Gray Crow used them to drain the town and surrounding villages more efficiently, while they hid under the black umbrella he provided, contentedly carving up the blood-stained dividends.

"Since you all mention our past dealings," Ye Wei'an pulled a thick stack of papers with blood-stained edges from his robe pocket and slapped them onto the table nonchalantly, "I happen to have some interesting things here."

The atmosphere at the table froze instantly; even the clinking of wine glasses ceased.

"This is Gray Crow's own signed confession, along with the testimonies of his personal bodyguards, henchmen, and informants," Ye Wei'an's fingers slid lightly over the stack of paper. "During the interrogation, they spat out quite a few names to save their own skins. For instance, which merchant house helped the bandits fence stolen goods, which guild helped them transport contraband, and even... how much gold certain people paid Gray Crow to secure their footing in town. You can see the specifics for yourselves."

The previously warm atmosphere plummeted to freezing.

Thorn, the head of the Carpenters' Guild sitting on the left, took the pages with trembling hands. After scanning only a few lines, beads of sweat the size of pearls began to pelt the tabletop.

He didn't say a word, his face deathly pale as he passed the papers to the grain merchant, old Krillin, sitting next to him.

The pages were passed from hand to hand, leaving only the sound of faint rustling and suppressed breathing in the room.

The confessions not only recorded which merchant houses fenced stolen goods or which guilds transported contraband, but more lethally, they detailed how Gray Crow used his wife's background to forcibly intervene in the market, manipulate prices, and blackmail everyone present into building a "monopoly alliance."

By the time the papers reached Mayor Bartok, he was staring fixedly at the confession regarding his tacit approval of smuggling and acceptance of dividends; the silver fork in his hand clattered into his plate.

The faces of the wealthy men turned from red to white, then to a sickly green, cold sweat streaming down their temples uncontrollably.

They knew all too well how deep their cooperation with Gray Crow had been; if Ye Wei'an wanted to make arrests, half the people at this table would be in the dungeon tonight.

Even without Detect Thoughts, Ye Wei'an could feel their terror.

He looked at this flock of lambs waiting for the slaughter, suddenly chuckled, and snapped his fingers.

Blue-white flames erupted suddenly over the stack of confessions.

Under the gaze of everyone present, the testimonies that could have bankrupted them and cost them their heads twisted, shriveled, and finally turned into wisps of ash in mid-air.

"Gray Crow and his men were heinous thugs; how could one believe the desperate, biting words of such people before they died?" Ye Wei'an watched the ashes fall, his tone gentle. "I believe that everyone here is a loyal subject of the Summerstar Family and must have been coerced into going astray. Let the past scatter with the ashes."

After the deathly silence came the sound of ragged, relieved breathing.

"Wise! My lord is truly wise!" The head of the Blacksmiths' Guild, who had been cowering in the corner, was the first to stand and declare his stance: "My lord, I noticed some of your soldiers lack iron armor—how can that be? I have ten sets of newly forged chainmail; I shall have them delivered to you at once!"

Thorn, the head of the Carpenters' Guild, let out a long breath. He stood up and performed a standard kneeling salute: "My lord's fairness is truly convincing. Since the misunderstanding is resolved, the Carpenters' Guild naturally knows what to do. Three carts of the finest hardwood will be delivered to your camp tomorrow!"

Old Krillin slumped in his chair, his voice thick with tears: "My lord is merciful! This old man is deeply ashamed... Tomorrow morning, I will send three thousand pounds of fresh wheat to your camp. As long as your soldiers are in Firefall Town, I will provide their rations!"

The others followed suit, expressing their gratitude, with various rewards and promises filling the air.

Ye Wei'an leaned back in his chair, watching these wealthy gentry fawning over him, and sighed inwardly: "The wisdom from my homeland is truly useful. With this performance, the upcoming cooperation will be much easier to negotiate."

In truth, both Ye Wei'an and the local kingpins knew perfectly well: burning the testimonies was essentially useless.

They were just testimonies, not evidence; what did it matter if they were burned?

Ye Wei'an could just have the prisoners write them again—would those criminals dare to refuse?

Even in the eyes of these kingpins, burning the evidence wouldn't have mattered—this bastard young master was a mage (the average person couldn't distinguish between a mage and a warlock), and who knew what kind of mystical tricks a mage lord might have?

What put them at ease was Ye Wei'an's attitude.

This move by Ye Wei'an was a clear signal that he would let bygones be bygones, and that was what truly moved them.

In reality, the kingpins didn't know that Ye Wei'an was also feeling a lingering fear.

He was grateful he had seized the moment to sell these chips for a good price before they expired.

The current situation existed purely because the old baron was still alive, and Gray Crow, out of consideration for his wife, hadn't dared to clarify his true backer; only then could these dealings be called "leverage."

Once the old baron passes away and the lady gains full control of the territory, things like the Gray Crow affair will become an overt "rule," and by then, these testimonies will be worth less than waste paper.

Faced with the generous promises of the crowd, Ye Wei'an did not rush to accept their gifts.

He raised his hand with a beaming smile, stopping their "tokens of gratitude," and even praised the loyalty of everyone present with a sincere tone.

"I appreciate your kindness, but as the heir to the lord, I cannot accept private gifts without cause."

As soon as these words were spoken, the local power brokers at the table exchanged bewildered glances.

Thorn and old Krillin traded a look of uncertainty—in their eyes, refusing "small change" usually meant the other party wanted "big money," or was preparing to open their mouth like a lion to swallow their foundations whole.

Just as the atmosphere turned subtle once more, Ye Wei'an picked up his wine glass and shifted the topic:

"However, while seizing the Old Oak Tannery, I discovered that Gray Crow had a large amount of real estate registered under his name, including suburban manors and even quite a few dividend shares in the various guilds represented here."

Ye Wei'an sighed, putting on a worried expression, "Gray Crow colluded with bandits in Firefall Town and committed too many atrocities by oppressing the townspeople. Now that justice has arrived, these victims need to be compensated. I intend to sell off these properties in the near future to serve as reparations, but I wonder, are there any enthusiastic 'philanthropists' in town willing to support this?"

The people at the table were stunned for a moment before they realized what was happening.

This wasn't a "sale" at all.

This was clearly a scheme to sell back to them, under a different name, the very things Gray Crow had forcibly seized and swallowed up years ago.

On the surface, this money was "reparations" for the victims, but in reality, it was "atonement silver" to buy their own lives!

"Support! We must support this!" This time, Thorn finally managed to be the first to speak, "For such a charitable act, our Carpenters' Guild is duty-bound!"

"We support it too!" The others chimed in one after another.

Mayor Bartok, being an old fox, clapped his hands and laughed along, "My lord is truly righteous! Since everyone here has such a sincere heart, let's not wait for the 'near future.' There is no time like the present; why don't we start the auction right now?"

No sooner had he finished speaking than a chorus of hurried agreement erupted around the long table.

"The mayor is absolutely right, that's exactly how it should be!"

"A good deed like accumulating merit must not leave me out!"

"The Brewers' Association raises both hands in favor!"

Seeing this, the mayor clapped his hands, "Someone, clear the table and rearrange the venue! We shall hold an auction right here in the official residence, and I shall serve as the auctioneer for you, my lord!"