Investigation
"I never expected my uncle to be this wealthy. What a shame."
"Well, it makes sense. He controls the family's trade over at the port, so having a small stash of savings is only to be expected."
The victim's nephew pulled back the carriage curtain, his gaze slipping through the slightly parted gap to look at the magistrate's office, which was gradually receding in the distance.
"Thirty gold coins is hardly a small sum. Is it really all right to just leave it here like this?"
A youth sat on the seat opposite the man, quietly reading a book in his hands. At the question, the youth raised his head to look at the man before him and asked.
"Once he's dead, the mission is complete. Honestly, I didn't want to kill him. After all, he's my own uncle.
It's just unfortunate that he backed the wrong horse. That was how my father was driven out of the family back then, only to claw his way back step by step. You have no idea—everyone inside the family was purged in the aftermath.
Having witnessed that ourselves, how could we possibly allow the seeds of danger to continue to sprout?"
The man dropped the curtain, leaning back and letting himself sink into the soft, comfortable cushions behind him.
"You still haven't answered my question. Thirty gold coins is practically the annual tax revenue of a knightly fief. The family isn't well-off enough to throw that kind of money around."
"That's without a Dungeon's knightly fief's annual tax revenue."
The man sitting opposite the youth smiled as he added.
"The reason is simple: the family's power doesn't lie here. Seapeak Port is not our primary trading partner.
Consequently, the family doesn't hold any leverage we can exert here either.
Uncle chose this place as his first stopping point after leaving the family for precisely that reason.
Haven't you noticed? Ever since we arrived, the various families of Seapeak Port have only sent out minor juniors who can't make their own decisions to deal with us. Now they've even pushed people from the Wealth Church right into our faces.
They neither care about us nor treat us with any regard. The people below see the family's intimidating reputation and either hope to gain some benefits or fear our power, choosing to suck up to us. But that deterrence is fragile.
Once it faces the test of money, it will shatter at the slightest blow.
Like I said, money that has fallen into a sewer isn't worth retrieving.
Besides, even if you found that money, it wouldn't belong to you or me, but any trouble arising from it would be entirely our own. It's time to start planning ahead for yourself, little brother."
"Running off like this, just like a stray dog—the family's honor has been dragged completely through the mud."
The youth let out his complaint and fell silent, burying his head back in the book before him.
"It's not a total loss. Before we leave, remember to share intelligence with the mercenary group we're cooperating with. Tell them that if they can get their hands on that money, they can keep it for themselves.
Whether or not they manage to kill that thief will determine the depth of our future cooperation with them."
Elwin withdrew his gaze from the carriage as it grew distant. The crowd that had gathered because of the case had gradually dispersed now that the main characters had left.
Yet at this moment, the hearts of everyone in the know were beating wildly. Thirty gold coins—the sum was simply too enormous, enough to practically turn an individual's fate upside down.
"I followed this case. I need to take part in the investigation below."
Elwin frowned, blocking the magistrate responsible for continuing the investigation.
The man with the delicate little mustache narrowed his eyes, pausing for a moment before nodding.
"Be my guest."
Elwin followed the magistrates through a maze of turns, finally stepping into a courtyard located within the neighborhood.
The magistrates moved quickly. The people inside had already been brought under control, but Elwin frowned because the guards watching outside weren't magistrates at all, but rather gang thugs.
Seeing the magistrates arrive, the men offered a sloppy, hoodlum-style salute.
"It's filthy inside. If you don't want to go in, you don't have to."
The magistrate leading the way for Elwin stroked his little mustache, then took the lead and stepped inside.
Elwin didn't hesitate, following him in.
A few people wearing magistrate uniforms finally appeared in the courtyard, though they merely sat in the shade. Out in the blazing sun stood a plump man who had been stripped of his clothes and hung upside down, bound to a pillar in the courtyard.
His body was covered in wounds. Clearly, someone had already tortured him before tying him up like this.
The magistrates who had been sitting in chairs stood up instantly at the sight of Elwin entering behind their boss. One magistrate, whose buttons were undone to reveal his bare belly, hastily and awkwardly pulled at his hem with his hands.
Elwin shifted his gaze to the man hanging from the pillar, saying nothing.
Collusion between the magistrates of Seapeak Port and the gangs had long been an open secret.
The roots of this relationship could be traced all the way back to the founding of Seapeak Port.
"Talk."
The magistrate walked up to the nearly unconscious man, gesturing for his subordinates behind him to splash a bucket of water onto the man's face.
The icy sensation snapped the leader of the Graytooth Gang back to awareness instantly. His fat tongue immediately poked out past his parched lips, searching for any possible moisture.
"Ask, then! You're not asking, so what do you expect me to say?"
The man bound to the pillar now had bloodshot eyes, and even his head was swollen and red.
"Oh, apologies. I forgot to tell them."
The magistrate squatted down, first fiddling with his mustache with a finger before looking at the Graytooth Gang leader, who was already half-dead.
"Can't be helped. The kids on my crew just arrived, and they don't know their own strength.
Though there's no helping it now anyway. I'm afraid you'd hold a grudge against me later, so I'll just have to kill you afterward.
Still, if you cooperate, you can suffer a little less. Room 117, Ironthorn Street, right? Your daughter is very pretty, and your wife is wonderful, too. She even went out of her way to send me some of her home-baked cookies."
Seeing the man on the pillar begin to wriggle, the magistrate lowered the fingers that had been pinching his mustache.
"Six days ago, a money bag went missing from your turf—a bloody one. An utterly hideous kid was running interference up front while someone else approached the target from behind, slit the pouch, and took it.
This happened on your turf. You should know very well who did it."
"Just because of this?"
The man's parched lips parted and closed, his eyes filled with disbelief.
"Of course it's not just because of this. You must have heard by now that the higher-ups are clearing out family properties to make room for the Wealth Church. Inevitably, we have to clean out some old skeletons in the closet in the process. You're just having some bad luck."
"Cut me down first."
The Graytooth Gang leader stared at his old friend before him with bloodshot eyes, his gaze holding not only resentment, but also a hint of bewilderment.
"Go call Heka, Bell-Bottoms, Big Tooth, and Dogtail over."
Allowed at last to sit down, the man calmed his heavy breathing, then looked down at his trusted aides, who were also hung up nearby, as well as the gang thugs standing in place who ignored him and merely watched the magistrate's men.
At a nod from the magistrate, several thugs left the small courtyard.
When they had arrived, the gang had already sent the pickpockets out to work. Barely half a day had passed since the murderer driving the carriage was caught and confessed that the stolen loot in his possession had been stolen from him.
They had only had time to secure the original boss and his inner circle upon arriving here, and they hadn't even finished venting their resentment from all these years, let alone found the time to worry about those petty pickpockets.