Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters-Chapter 562 - 106 Blood Wolf

Chapter 562: Chapter 106: Blood Wolf Chapter 562: Chapter 106: Blood Wolf July 1, an ordinary yet extraordinary day.

A strange military officer visited the workshop of Albert, the Kingsfort goldsmith.

The officer’s left leg seemed rather inflexible as he walked with the aid of a horse-head cane.

Another glum-faced constable carrying a sword accompanied him.

Seeing the uniform on the visitor, the goldsmith Albert felt a “thump” in his heart.

In these times, nothing was bigger than the sword. Soldiers, now, strutted about Kingsfort with impunity.

The siege by the Rebels was lifted just two weeks ago, and the bones outside the city were still not completely collected.

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Mentioning this siege, the citizens of Kingsfort still felt the shudders.

As soon as the city was blockaded, the price of flour shot up crazily. Often, the price at weighing was one thing, and at payment, it was another.

Even if you could buy flour, you couldn’t buy firewood. The trees in the city were quickly chopped down to bareness; many families had to dismantle their furniture to make fire.

It was wildly rumored in the streets and alleys that Alpad, the leader of the Rebels, had ordered, “On the day the city falls, the rebels may plunder at will.”

Thankfully, thankfully, in the end, it was General Sekler who won.

On the day the Rebels retreated, the citizens of Kingsfort took to the streets cheering, “Long live General Sekler!”

But soon after, the troops pursuing the Rebels suffered a major defeat in the North River province.

The war was not over, and who knew when it would end?

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But life had to go on.

“Is there anything I can assist you with?” Albert asked the officer cordially, thinking to himself, “Oh no, could he be here to extort me?”

Actually, Albert was not much familiar with the subtle differences in military uniforms, but based on the fabric, design, and the visitor’s demeanor, he was convinced that this was an officer.

“I am Lieutenant Moritz of the Military Police,” the young officer’s voice commanded an involuntary attention despite his youth.

He coldly regarded Albert and got straight to the point, “The Military Police have received reliable reports that you’ve been laundering stolen goods for thieves.”

“No! No! No! Absolutely not!” Albert pounded his chest and stomped his feet, vehemently insisting he was wronged, his heart crying out, “It’s over, he really is here to extort me!”

Albert was so afraid because he indeed had been laundering goods for thieves.

Thieves and robbers getting their hands on gold and silver jewelry would usually look for goldsmiths to melt it down and cast it into new coins.

Once melted and cast, nobody could track it thereafter.

Some would simply exchange the stolen items for ready-made coins or jewelry.

The exchange rate was a bit low, but it was convenient.

Albert often conducted such transactions. He never asked where the goods came from; as long as the price was right, it sufficed.

The strange officer smiled inscrutably, “Not at all?”

“Never! Honestly! How dare I?” Albert shook his head desperately, the gaze of the other man sharp as a razor, making Albert feel as if he was being peeled layer by layer.

He tentatively counter-questioned, “Perhaps… could you suggest a way to prove my ‘innocence’?”

“Last September, a robber came to you. Skinny, with a coastal accent, and a mouth full of gold teeth,” the military officer said, reclining in a chair, leisurely fiddling with a small knife, “You helped him launder his loot, didn’t you?”

The little knife, no bigger than a palm and simply made, had a handle bound in layers of leather string, but its blade was gleaming.

Each tap of the knife on the table made Albert’s knees involuntarily tremble.

Upon hearing the officer mention the skinny figure with the gold teeth, Albert immediately recalled who he was talking about.

He secretly rejoiced and eagerly replied, “Sir, I remember who you are talking about. I really didn’t help him launder anything, I reported him! He’s still locked up in jail!”

Last September, a robber with a foreign accent and gold teeth came to Albert, wanting to exchange a bill for a thousand Ducats.

The bill signified the client’s pre-deposited Gold, theoretically just under the goldsmith’s custody. The gold was to be given upon presentation of the bill, which was recognized without recognizing the person.

But all goldsmiths would misuse their client’s deposited gold, either by investing it or lending it out to make more money.

Albert was no exception.

Business could lead to a profit or loss, and loans might not be recovered. After a heavy loss at the beginning of the last year, Albert found himself nearly bankrupt.

When that gold-toothed robber found him, Albert’s vault had barely remained a few more than a thousand Ducats.

Releasing the Ducats to the robber would mean bankruptcy right there and then.

As for how Albert was certain he was dealing with a robber?

The answer was simple: Robbers were people Albert had seen plenty of. With just one word, he could smell the stench of a robber.

Hearing the robber’s foreign accent, seeing him come alone—unconsciously, Albert conceived a bold idea—to swindle the swindler.

The rest was simple—Albert had a cousin who was a low-level officer in the police.

The gold-toothed robber was arrested and thrown in jail.

At first, Albert was extremely anxious. That’s why he pleaded with his cousin to spare the robber’s life, just in case the robber’s partners came looking, so he’d have a bargaining chip.

As time passed, he put the matter out of mind until today, when it was brought up by the strange officer.

“How did this get out?” muttered Albert, cursing inwardly, “Which jealous bastard reported me! Uglaui? Or was it Kovachik?”

But the military officer did not take up the conversation, instead he seized on a loophole in Albert’s words, “That person didn’t, but others did, is that it? Let’s search and prove your innocence.”

Albert made another round of spirited denials and oaths.

This commotion ultimately ended with Albert losing money to avoid disaster; he needed to make a “donation” to the Kingsfort Military Police.