Tivon had mentioned before that Milro was an old acquaintance, so Kino feigned enthusiasm, extending his hand for a shake. "Good morning, my friend. I am grateful for your generosity; my soldiers and I shall forever remember it."
"You flatter me." After the handshake, Milro was about to retract his hand when he suddenly felt a tightening of his arm, as Kino gripped it firmly.
Kino's hand was soft, with a texture akin to cotton candy, as though wrapped in delicate sweetness.
Milro tried to pull his hand back twice, but to no avail. He was puzzled by the gesture and, with hesitation, inquired, "Civil Officer?"
Kino stood against the light, his face shrouded in shadow, with only his amber eyes visible, narrowed into crescent shapes. Occasionally, a glint flashed within them, exuding an almost imperceptible aura of oppression.
Just as Milro was at a loss, Kino spoke, his voice a calm, deliberate whisper: "My friend, your hand is injured."
Milro looked down to see two dark scars on his hand—one at the base of his thumb and the other at his middle finger joint. It was clear these were what Kino referred to.
He let out a resigned smile. "Ah, bitten by my son. By the gods, I must have been cursed to be gifted such a son."
He gestured for the caravan guards to draw back the curtains, revealing a small, disproportionately large-headed boy, who was carried out in their arms.
With his tilted head, thick lips constantly dripping with saliva, and vacant gaze, the boy clearly appeared to be mentally impaired.
It was uncertain whether this was due to a chromosomal anomaly, such as Down syndrome, or if it was a true "curse" that had befallen him.
"Though he is the child of a curse, he remains my son. I care for him personally every day. A few days ago, while feeding him, he bit me. That's how I got this scar." Milro gently stroked his son's face, while the boy babbled incoherently, occasionally mimicking a biting motion when his hand found his mouth.
He seemed to recognize his father, as the bite was not particularly forceful.
"My condolences," Kino's gaze briefly flashed with a strange, cold gleam before quickly vanishing.
Kino walked over to the cargo wagon and smiled faintly, a hint of helplessness in his expression. "Let's return to the matter at hand. Sergeant Tivon mentioned that he had already inspected the goods. But as you are aware, smuggling of salt crystals has been rampant lately, and there is immense pressure at the borders. I must inspect them myself. I hope you understand."
Milro nodded. "Of course. Please, proceed."
Kino examined the caravan's cargo—ordinary items, just some rice and dried meat from foreign lands, with no trace of salt crystals.
"Paladin Centurion," Kino called out to a man with a thick beard.
Paladin stepped forward, a centurion from Shilin Town who commanded a hundred soldiers, theoretically second only to the Civil Officer in rank.
Kino pointed to the rice and dried meat. "Would you mind tasting a few bites?"
Without a word, Paladin grabbed a handful of rice, chewed it briefly, and followed with a few pieces of dried meat.
"Salty?" Kino asked.
Paladin shook his head.
Kino tore off a piece of the cargo cloth and handed it to Paladin. "I appreciate your trouble."
Paladin's expression darkened, but he did not voice any objection in public, instead placing the cloth in his mouth and sucking on it.
"Salty?"
"No."
Throughout the inspection, Milro remained calm, walking beside them, answering questions truthfully and cooperating fully.
When the inspection was complete, the goods were found to be spotless and honest.
Kino smiled. "Thank you for your cooperation. You are a fine merchant."
Milro nodded. "Always have been~"
"But I have one question," Kino remarked, pointing to the goods behind him with a hint of curiosity. "These rice and dried meats are quite ordinary, with a low market price. You hired 14 guards for this caravan, and added the expenses of travel. Tell me, would you really make a profit on this trip?"
Milo smiled apologetically, saying, "I have a few aristocratic clients with quite particular tastes. They are fond of foreign rice and cured meats, and are willing to purchase these goods at several times the market price. So, with each trip, I make quite a profit."
"Very well, let us go then. I'll take you to get the seal." Kino gestured with a sweeping motion, inviting him.
Back in the room, before Kino could speak, Milo shut the door and approached. From his coat, he withdrew a heavy purse and handed it over with an ingratiating smile. "Sir, this is a small token of appreciation, a modest gift. Thank you for your continued patronage."
Kino accepted the purse and opened it for a brief glance, revealing over a hundred "Silver Moons" inside.
The "Moon Coin" was the official currency of the Duchy of Dolgland, with the king's portrait on the front and the royal family's crest—the laurel flower—on the reverse.
Moon Coins came in gold, silver, copper, and iron, each representing a different value.
Given the disparity in technological levels, it was difficult to directly compare the purchasing power of feudal-era currency with modern economics. Kino could not yet draw a unified conclusion, knowing he would have to delve into the market for a clearer understanding.
However, there was one datum he could rely on: his annual salary as the civil officer was 50 Silver Moons, meaning the purse contained two years' worth of wages.
And from Milo's tone, it was clear that this exchange had been happening for quite some time.
He never would have expected that the "old self" would be so fond of bribery.
Kino chuckled softly, placing the purse on the table and gesturing for Milo to sit opposite him. "Would you care for a drink?"
"I apologize, but my caravan and I must continue our journey. I would prefer to leave immediately after obtaining the seal. Please allow me to visit you on another occasion."
"Refusing a gesture from a civil officer is a rather foolish thing to do."
Upon hearing this, Milo's smile froze, and he dared not defy Kino further, sitting down obediently. "Then, may I have a glass of water?"
"As you wish." Kino retrieved a cup and water jug, pouring him a drink. "My friend, I wonder if you have ever heard of the term 'acquaintances of a shallow kind,' used to describe friends who are not deeply familiar with one another. I'm curious, do you know me?"
Milo hesitated briefly before responding, "I know you fairly well."
Kino raised an eyebrow. "Then you are aware of my responsibilities?"
"I am."
"Please, enlighten me."
Milo cleared his throat and replied in a measured tone, "Shirin Town is a settlement under the jurisdiction of the Twilight City in the Warfire Province. You are the civil officer here, reporting to the city's administrative officials. Your primary role is to maintain the daily functioning of the town and oversee personnel changes. There are three hundred-strong units under your command, responsible for border protection and the inspection of illegal smuggling, particularly the salt crystals."
Kino clapped his hands, genuinely impressed. "You know me better than I know myself. What a pity you don't serve as the civil officer instead."
"You flatter me..."
"Since you are aware of the smuggling situation, I assume you understand my actions."
Milo pressed his lips together. "I do understand. However, if I may offer an observation, my caravan has always entered through Shirin Town, and it's always been you who has inspected us—there has never been any issue."
Kino shrugged. "The problem is, salt crystals don't just appear out of thin air. All domestic production channels are under royal control, yet the black market still boasts a substantial amount. It can only come from smuggling across the borders."
Milo nodded. "I understand."
Kino's gaze grew deeper, his eyes narrowing as he continued, "Here lies the problem: At every border checkpoint, including Shirin Town, there has never been a single report of a seizure. Every caravan passes through cleanly. What could this mean? Have the smugglers found divine assistance?"
Before Milo could respond, Kino's gaze shifted to the wound on his hand. With a smile, he remarked, "There is only one possibility. They must have a unique, secret method of smuggling."