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"Thud… thud… thud…"
Manager Hank stepped out alone, his heavy footsteps echoing as he made his way toward the main avenue. He had arranged to meet Bryan outside a bustling steamed bun shop, hoping to pry more information from the talkative merchant—specifically, the number of knights stationed in Sedona City. Knowledge like that was gold in his line of work, and Bryan was an unwitting wellspring of it.
Soon, he spotted Bryan's familiar figure standing outside the shop, engrossed in conversation with Ryan, the deputy chief of the guard force. Hank's steps faltered for a moment. Ryan was a significant figure in Sedona City, someone to be cautious around. Approaching with a practiced smile, he called out, "Lord Bryan, my apologies for keeping you waiting!"
"No trouble at all, I just arrived myself," Bryan said, waving off the apology with a grin. He gestured to the man beside him. "Mr. Hank, this is Deputy Chief Ryan."
"Greetings, greetings!" Hank said, bowing slightly, his tone warm and deferential.
"Pleased to meet you," Ryan replied, a polite smile on his lips. He turned back to Bryan. "Off to see another shadow puppet show today?"
"Absolutely! They've got a new play," Bryan said, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "Apparently, Sun Wukong got kicked out by his master."
"Really? Thrown out of the sect? What happened?" Ryan asked, genuinely surprised.
"No idea yet. Didn't catch it last night, so I'm heading over this morning," Bryan said, shaking his head.
Hank stood to the side, unable to join the conversation. He knew his place. Getting too close to Sedona City's elite wasn't necessary—not when the city's downfall was imminent. His role was to blend in, gather intelligence, and wait for the plan to unfold.
"Hm? What's that about?" Hank's eyes narrowed as he noticed seven or eight patrol officers escorting a four-wheeled carriage—a design he'd never seen before.
"Oh, that? Some merchants were smuggling salt," Ryan said casually. "Civilians tipped us off."
The previous evening, Ryan had received intelligence from Miss Mina about the salt smugglers. He'd organized a sting operation overnight, and by morning, they'd raided the smugglers' hideout, rounding up both the merchants and their civilian accomplices in one fell swoop.
"Despicable, always looking for loopholes to make dirty money," Bryan said, his voice thick with indignation.
"Indeed. Well, duty calls," Ryan said, waving as he turned toward the guard force headquarters.
"Alright, you go ahead. I'm grabbing some buns," Bryan said with a light chuckle.
"Let's get in line," Hank said quickly, joining Bryan as they queued up at the shop.
As they waited, Hank's gaze drifted to the strange four-wheeled prisoner cart. He'd only ever seen two-wheeled ones before. A sneer flickered in his mind. 'Incompetent fools getting caught—serves them right.' His own group operated flawlessly, spreading rumors while living comfortably, biding their time until the plan's execution. The salt smugglers' failure only highlighted his own skill.
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Upstairs at the steamed bun shop, near a window overlooking the avenue, Lucas sat eating breakfast. His dark eyes locked onto Hank in the queue below. He held a delicate steamed bun, crafted by Nicole that morning, between two fingers. Beside him sat Mina, her cat ears twitching slightly, while Andrew and Chris stood behind, their presence unobtrusive but vigilant.
Andrew had entered through the shop's back door, clutching a notebook. Two patrol officers guarded the staircase, ensuring the second floor remained private—occupied only by Lucas, Mina, Andrew, Chris, and two others. Downstairs, members of the War Wolf squad mingled discreetly among the crowd.
"That fat man's the most suspicious?" Lucas asked, his gaze flicking to the figure behind Bryan in line.
"City Lord, we know he's Hank, arrived eight days ago claiming to be a linen merchant with six companions," Andrew said, flipping through his notebook. "That same day, eight others entered the city. When I inspected their inn for fire safety earlier, I found no heavy weapons, but I suspect they have another hidden base."
Lucas nodded, turning to Mina. "How's the surveillance on the rumor-spreaders? Anyone contacting them?"
"Yes, last night around eleven, three people made contact. I believe they're the ones handling it," Mina said, reading from her own notebook.
Lucas popped the steamed bun into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "How many leads have we traced so far?"
"Seven, Master," Mina replied, her voice cold. "By tonight, we should have them all pinned down." She hadn't expected so many threads in this web of intrigue.
"Oh? How many people?" Lucas asked, his tone calm but piercing.
"Fifty-six, with varying numbers per lead. The group transporting food has the most," Mina said, flipping through her notes. The investigation had begun the previous night, and the results were staggering.
"The key is their base outside the city. We need to uproot them completely," Lucas said, his dark eyes glinting with resolve. The Black Iris organization was massive, investing such resources in a small city like his. It was both a challenge and an insult.
"I've already sent people to scout," Mina said, her expression serious.
"Chris, relay an order to Andrew," Lucas said, his eyes narrowing as he toyed with another steamed bun. "Have the army search within a fifty-kilometer radius, especially the ports. No ships leave today."
"Yes, sir," Chris replied, bowing respectfully.
"Have we observed this man's habits?" Lucas asked, his gaze returning to Hank below.
The room fell silent, the others exchanging uneasy glances. They'd only identified Hank's movements the previous night—too soon for detailed behavioral analysis.
"How many plays does Bryan usually watch?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow. He'd noticed Hank's deliberate efforts to befriend Bryan.
"Master, Bryan typically watches two shows, three if there's a new play," Mina answered promptly. Bryan, as the son of Sakura City's lord, was under constant surveillance by their intelligence network.
"There's a new play today," Lucas said, his voice low. "Tonight, we close the net. After the third show, have Ayesha go for a stroll. Watch anyone who approaches her closely."
"Yes, I'll have veteran soldiers blend into the crowd," Mina said, her face stern. Some of those veterans had been reassigned to her security division.
"Tomorrow's the workshop rest day—perfect timing to resolve the slave issue," Lucas said, a faint smile curling his lips. Addressing the slave brand problem now would reset the board. Discrimination against slaves needed to be nipped in the bud before it grew unmanageable with an influx of slaves later.
Tomorrow was also the end of the month, payday for the workshop workers, who'd get a day off as a small perk.
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