Soon, Foster came knocking again.
"Mr. Donning, those damned commoners have found out. They've dug up the ground, and there's no gold. It won't be long before the rumor is debunked, and then the security bureau will arrest me."
Foster was in a panic. Once the rumor was exposed, he would become the most despised man in the town, a pariah. He had already lost everything, and his life was without hope. But recently, he found something he cared about again.
It happened by chance. While spreading rumors, he met a courtesan, a golden-haired beauty with fair skin and a charming accent. In a brothel room, while spreading the false tale, he also shared his misfortunes with her. She comforted him, giving him a glimmer of warmth.
After that, he visited the brothel frequently. While spreading rumors, he would take time to enjoy moments of intimacy with this courtesan, named Alice. He realized he enjoyed those moments more and more, and his visits became increasingly frequent. With the rumor now widespread, he no longer needed to spread it. So each visit, he would spend more time lying in Alice's arms, like an infant cradled in his mother's embrace.
If he became a pariah, he would lose the chance to meet with his beloved. Though Alice was only a lowly courtesan, he didn't care.
Donning pulled out a letter, handwritten by the Earl of Carford. "My good assistant, I believe this time we aren't just spreading rumors. With this letter from the Earl, we have enough leverage. Don't worry."
Seeing the Earl's letter, Foster exhaled deeply. His idolized benefactor no longer existed in his mind. "So, what should we do next? Spread more rumors?"
Donning sealed the letter and left the inn. He needed to deliver it to the higher court prosecutor. Destroying Carford's carefully curated reputation was just the first step. Once the mayor, the head of the security bureau, and the prosecutor—Carford's cronies—were all taken down, Carford himself would be easy to deal with, now that his reputation was tarnished.
This letter was enough to bring those parasites down. Meanwhile, hearing that Donning had left the small inn and was on the road, the mayor, the sheriff of the security bureau, and the prosecutor all breathed a sigh of relief.
"The Earl of Carford, he only wants half the harvest. Working with this foreign family might bring us even more benefits in the future."
The mayor, holding a glass of red wine, his face flushed with excitement, spoke eagerly. The sheriff, Tambor, already somewhat drunk, nodded. "I think giving up half the harvest to build this connection is worth it. Our business will expand beyond this cursed town, maybe even to Blot City. There are far more opportunities there."
Carford thought this was a good idea. His reputation would soon extend beyond Goldenflash Town. However, the family's crest still gave him a slight unease. But the incident from years ago had been dealt with cleanly—perhaps he was just being overly cautious.
As the prosecutor of Blot City, Totty found his night work tedious. Stacks of thick legal documents cluttered his desk, giving him a headache.
"These damned criminals—can't they give me a break, even for a moment, so this old man on the verge of retirement can get some rest?"
Totty stretched his creaky joints, cursing under his breath as he opened another document. His stomach growled in protest.
"A nice sandwich right now would be heaven."
He sighed. But there was a strict government rule: no eating in the office. In his thirty years of diligent service, Totty had never broken any rules—not even minor ones.
But the growling in his stomach grew more frequent, and his mind wandered. "At my age, almost retired, breaking the rules once in a while wouldn't be a big deal."
"Look at yourself, old man. You've served the government for so many years, worked so hard you've forgotten to eat. Hunger lowers your blood sugar, which could be dangerous. The government wouldn't want to lose a dedicated servant like you over that. A small mistake, a forgivable one—besides, you're almost retired. No one will care."
Totty convinced himself. He got up, trembling slightly, and left the dimly lit corridor, stepping onto the quiet nighttime streets. Young couples whispered love declarations in corners, followed by kisses. It was all so beautiful, and it was Totty who had made it possible. By locking up criminals, he had made Blot City as peaceful as a sanctuary under God's protection, free of crime.
He stopped at a shop window. "One sandwich, please. And a coffee."
Totty shoved his hands into his coat pockets, collar turned up to shield his face. He didn't want anyone recognizing him. He didn't want the whole city knowing the hard-working prosecutor had taken a break for a night snack.
The shop clerk handed him the sandwich and coffee. "Here you go, sir."
Totty fumbled through his pockets and realized he had forgotten his wallet. His face flushed with embarrassment. "Excuse me, I seem to have forgotten my wallet. Could I pay you later?"
The clerk retracted the sandwich and coffee with a sneer. "You're a terrible beggar, aren't you? Get lost before I kick you."
To be mistaken for a beggar—a terrible insult to the prosecutor of Blot City. Totty wanted to explain, but without a penny to his name, only money could make the clerk apologize.
Just then, a hand extended toward the window, placing a bill on the counter. "Apologize to my friend. He merely forgot his wallet."
The clerk was dumbfounded. To Totty, that hand felt like the hand of God himself, rescuing him from humiliation. Gratefully, he looked at the man who had saved him: dressed in a suit and wearing a black hat, his face hidden beneath the brim. Totty couldn't contain his gratitude and reached out. "Thank you for your generosity."
Donning tipped his hat, offering a slight nod. "It was nothing."
The clerk, now remorseful, handed the sandwich and coffee back. Totty hurried to catch up with the man who had already taken a few steps away. "Sir, I must know your name. Please wait here while I get the money to repay you."
"I don't waste my time over a little money. And are you sure you even have the money to repay me?" Donning continued walking.
Totty blocked his path. "Sir, I am not the kind of person you think I am. If you view me as an ungrateful wretch, then take back the sandwich and coffee. I refuse to accept charity."
Donning stopped, a look of resignation crossing his face. He pulled out an envelope and handed it over. "Alright, sir. I'll give you my information. I have important matters to attend to. If you wish to repay me, send the money to the address on the envelope."
Back in his office, Totty chewed on his sandwich and opened the envelope, eager to learn about the family that had produced such an honorable young man. But instead of a name or address, it was a letter of accusation.
Totty rushed out to the street, but the young man had already disappeared. Returning to his office, his appetite was gone.
"This will make the perfect retirement gift," he thought, ready to add one more brilliant achievement to his record.
In the following days, Donning returned. Things had gone even more smoothly than he had imagined. The elderly prosecutor's efficiency was admirable. Before he even made it back to town, dignitaries from Blot City had already arrived. The sheriff, Tambor, the mayor, and the prosecutor—all were now prisoners.
The local government employees gossiped about the day the town's officials had been arrested.
Sheriff Tambor sat in his comfortable office chair, as he always did, a cup of strong coffee in hand, reading outdated newspapers from Blot City and calculating his cut from the big deal.
His secretary burst in, looking flustered. "Sheriff, someone's here to see you."
Two young men followed behind, cutting off the secretary. "Sheriff Tambor, in the name of the law, you are under arrest." One of them placed an arrest warrant on Tambor's desk.
Tambor, still unaware of what was happening, reacted with anger to maintain his authority. "Get out! I'm the law here. Damn it, Ferdinand, I've told you, no one enters my office without my permission. You're fired!"
Ferdinand, the secretary, stood trembling at the door. "Sheriff, they're from Blot City's law enforcement. I have no authority to stop them."
The coffee cup slipped from Tambor's hand, shattering on the floor. His fury vanished in an instant, replaced by a flicker of hope. That matter couldn't possibly have leaked. Wiping the spilled coffee from his pants, he forced a smile. "Ah, my colleagues, you must be mistaken. I'm the sheriff here, not a criminal."
The lawmen from Blot City remained stone-faced. "We're not mistaken. Sheriff Tambor of Goldenflash Town, you are under arrest."
As Tambor was dragged from his office, his law enforcement career came to an end. Now a prisoner, he struggled and screamed, his voice echoing throughout the security bureau.
"You can't arrest me! By procedure, you have to notify the local government first! Let me go! I'll sue you for abuse of power!"
The officers who had once bowed to him now watched their former superior as though he were a circus monkey