Milo swallowed repeatedly, instinctively straightening his posture. He meekly replied, "I acknowledge that, but you've already inspected my goods. My caravan is completely innocent."
Kino stood and walked behind Milo, placing a hand on his shoulder, his voice laced with a guiding tone. "Let us do this—let us temporarily set aside our identities and pretend we are smugglers. From this perspective, let's consider how we might evade inspection."
"Ready?" Kino slowly began. "Three, two, one... begin."
"Now, I am a trafficker, engaged in illegal smuggling. I arrive at a border checkpoint—let's assume it's the town of Shilin. The idiotic civil officer arrives with his men to inspect my goods. How would he conduct his inspection?"
"According to law enforcement training, this fool would break open the goods for a sample inspection, strip the caravan members of their clothes to check their pockets and bodies for hidden items, and search the transport vehicles for secret compartments. If his suspicion runs deeper, he might consider the possibility of food or cargo being soaked in water to leach out salt. He would conduct his search just as the security manual teaches him."
"But as a smuggler, I would undoubtedly have access to reliable intelligence, fully aware of the border patrol's security procedures. Knowing how he will search, how could I possibly hide anything in such obvious places?" Kino leaned forward, his amber eyes meeting Milo's profile, observing the beads of sweat forming on his brow.
Kino then returned to his seat, his tone relaxed as if speaking to an old friend. "Let's set aside the smuggler for a moment and talk about Dugoland. Are you familiar with the Smuggling Code?"
Milo nodded quickly, his head bobbing like a chick pecking for food.
"Tell me," Kino pressed.
Milo's gaze became unfocused, and he absentmindedly wiped the sweat from his forehead, muttering, "According to the Dugoland Anti-Smuggling Regulation, smugglers will have all illicit gains and property confiscated, and be exiled to the border mining districts for forced labor, with a sentence of ten years. Anyone caught smuggling military-controlled goods is executed immediately, and their family members are held accountable..."
Kino nodded, sighing softly. "Does it not seem barbaric to you? Executing criminals is one thing, but to punish their families as well? To implicate the innocent? It's clearly unjust. But the Code is the Code. You may question its fairness, but it must be obeyed, and one must revere it in their heart. To uphold the laws and execute them indiscriminately—that's what gives a code its power."
These words weighed heavily on Milo's mind, especially since Kino had made him recite the punishment for smuggling aloud. The pressure was overwhelming, and a cold sweat broke out as his heartbeat quickened.
Suddenly, Kino shifted the conversation. "Do you love your son?"
"Yes..." Milo replied.
"I thought so," Kino mused. "He was born a cursed child, mentally disabled, yet you did not abandon him. You continue to love and care for him—that is the mark of a great father's love. So, whether as your friend or as a civil officer, if I must execute such a noble father, it would be an unfortunate thing."
A muscle in Milo's face twitched, and he could feel Kino's amber eyes burning into him like a searing iron. His gaze shifted left and right, his lips trembling. "D-Don't worry, I won't do such a thing... I won't... I won't..."
Kino's eyes drifted down, resting on Milo's large belly, before he changed the subject once more. "Have you ever gone hungry?"
Milo dared not meet Kino's gaze, shaking his head with a visible shiver.
"By the looks of your stomach, it's clear you haven't known hunger," Kino remarked, his eyes now focused on the sweat beads rolling down Milo's forehead, dropping onto his cheek. He smiled softly, adding, "Let me tell you this: hunger can drive a person to madness. The slightest emotional shift can trigger an overwhelming breakdown. Once hunger reaches a certain point, you no longer care what kind of food it is, whether it's clean or tainted, whether it's food at all, or even if it's human flesh... All that matters is survival."
"People often say that money drives men mad. And so, I believe that the hunger for wealth, much like the pangs of hunger itself, becomes an unbearable torment. And when a man succumbs to madness, he will devour anything, anything at all."
The color drained from Milro's face in an instant, his vision blurred. Kino before him seemed to twist into fleeting shadows, and when his senses returned, his collar was soaked in cold sweat, sticky like paste.
Without warning, Kino's smile vanished, as though the circus clown had removed his mask, signaling the end of the performance. "You're trafficking in salt crystals, aren't you?"
Milro felt as if his spine had been ripped from his body, his entire form collapsing into his seat. His teeth chattered uncontrollably, his eyes unfocused, and tears streamed down his face as he stammered, "I... I am..."
Kino gestured towards his own stomach.
Milro sobbed, helplessly nodding in acknowledgment.
Kino finished his drink, tidied the cup, and handed Milro a tissue, his smile returning to its usual, unsettling form. "Given the large number of your guards, and to avoid any unforeseen complications, I hope you will cooperate in performing a small act. Once it's done, I give you my word—neither you nor your son will perish."
...
The dry heat was suffocating, and the guards and soldiers of the caravan were growing increasingly restless.
Three minutes later, Kino and Milro emerged, once again shaking hands.
Kino sighed, saying, "It is with regret that I bid you farewell, my friend."
Milro bowed, his expression respectful. "I shall miss you, My Lord."
The two walked towards the cargo cart.
As they passed by Paladin, Kino intentionally brushed against him.
Paladin, about to mutter an insult, suddenly found his gaze drawn to something behind Kino...
Kino's hand was concealed behind his back, forming a subtle gesture.
In that instant, Paladin's pupils dilated. Kino had used a military sign, signaling: Crossbowmen, take position.
Almost immediately, Kino's hand shifted, delivering a second command: No mercy.
Paladin stared in shock at Kino, who turned his face towards him, his amber eyes filled with a smile.
Paladin's face darkened, and he silently retreated into the camp.
Before long, the crossbowmen had positioned themselves in the heights, like hunters lurking in the shadows.
Kino reached the cargo cart and surveyed the fourteen guards of the caravan.
Milro issued the command, "Form a line, let us bid farewell to My Lord."
Sweat was pouring from Milro's forehead, but the guards assumed it was merely the heat, and made no further comment as they arranged themselves in a line before Kino.
"To all of you, who have so faithfully protected Milro, allow me to express my gratitude," Kino said, bowing slightly. With a twisted grin, he added, "Farewell."
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!" The sound of crossbow bolts slicing through the air rang out, shooting past the bowing Kino.
"Thud, thud..." The guards, lined up neatly, became living targets, instantly transformed into pincushions by the barrage of arrows.
Ten of them were pierced through the heart or throat, dying on the spot, while four others, luckier, survived with non-fatal wounds.
After a brief moment of dazed confusion, they stared wide-eyed, desperately drawing their swords, and cried out, "We're exposed!!"
They knew they were surrounded by crossbowmen and that escape was impossible, but even in their final moments, they fought, hoping to take at least one down with them.
"Kill that dog!!" they shouted as they charged toward Kino, three of them falling to arrows mid-stride. The last of them, summoning all his strength, swung his blade at Kino's neck.
The caravan guards were massive, their physiques rivaling that of bears, their bodies riddled with arrows. Their bloodied, grotesque faces exuded an aura of terrifying ferocity.
Kino, however, appeared delicate and frail, a figure so fragile it seemed impossible for him to survive a close encounter. One might think that if a guard closed in on him, his head would be severed in an instant.
But what happened next shattered all expectations.
As the blade came at him, Kino did not retreat but advanced. His body twisted, leaving behind only a blurred shadow, and with uncanny precision, he seized the guard's wrist. In that moment, a terrifying force erupted from his slender form, flipping the guard onto the ground, his foot planted on the man's face, pinned against the side of the cart.
In the next instant, Kino had seized the guard's sword and twisted his head, driving the blade into his cheek.
"Clink!" The strike was so swift that it pierced the guard's face on both sides, pinning him to the cart. The blade quivered, yet not a single tooth was harmed.
All of this transpired in the fraction of a second it took for the guard to turn his head and open his mouth, as though an exquisitely engineered machine was at work.
A crisp, melodious sound rang in his ears, sharply contrasting with the agonizing pain in his face. "Did you think, who it was you were speaking to?"