Kino stepped forward, gently lifting Old Tang's chin to adjust the angle of his head. "Yes, just like that. Don't move~"
Old Tang thought Kino had lost his mind and opened his mouth to curse. "What the he—"
Squish!
The moment his mouth opened, Kino's delicate hand struck like a viper, piercing in with ruthless precision. A sickening sound of tearing flesh followed as Kino yanked out Old Tang's entire tongue.
Thanks to the angle adjustment and the swiftness of his movements, the spurting blood didn't touch Kino at all, leaving only a faint trace of saliva on the waterproof leather gloves.
"If you don't need your tongue, why not donate it to someone more deserving?" Kino released his grip, allowing the bloodied tongue to drop to the ground.
Blood gushed from Old Tang's mouth, flooding his swollen throat. He collapsed, his frail body convulsing violently. His eyes became veined with red as he choked on his own blood, dying in agony.
The enforcer froze momentarily before letting out an enraged roar, his massive fist crashing down toward Kino like a cannonball.
A shadow flickered. Kino, ghostlike, evaded the attack, appearing behind the enforcer. His arm curled around the man's neck in a gesture that almost seemed affectionate from a distance.
But the moment Kino's slender arm wrapped around him, a sickening crack echoed through the room—the enforcer's atlas vertebra snapped cleanly.
Another lifeless body crumpled to the ground.
One-Eyed Dragon's face twisted with terror. As he opened his mouth to scream, Paladin's fist silenced him, driving the cry back into his throat. Paladin clamped a hand over his mouth.
Kino peeled off the sullied leather gloves, revealing pristine white gloves beneath—still immaculate as fresh snow. Raising a finger to his lips, Kino smiled and gestured for silence.
One-Eyed Dragon, trembling and gasping for air, nodded frantically.
Satisfied, Paladin released him, and the room filled with the sound of panicked, uneven breathing.
Kino's voice was calm, almost gentle. "You're the second-in-command here, aren't you?"
One-Eyed Dragon nodded so quickly it seemed his head might fall off.
"Congratulations~ As of today, you're in charge." Kino's tone remained cordial. "Now then, about the deal earlier—would you like to take over?"
Overwhelmed with fear, One-Eyed Dragon dared not refuse. His voice trembled as he stammered, "Yes! I'll take it! I'll take it!"
And so, the salt crystals were successfully sold for 1,083 silver moons.
One-Eyed Dragon had hoped to rid himself of this walking calamity, but to his dismay, Kino settled into a chair and offered a polite apology. "I'm sorry for dirtying your floor. Paladin, please help him tidy up."
Paladin obediently began to clean, dragging away the corpses of Old Tang and the enforcer, as well as the severed tongue. He fetched a bucket of water and a cloth to scrub the bloodstains from the floor.
Kino turned back to One-Eyed Dragon. "I have another business proposition for you." He gestured toward the heavy burlap sack by the door. "Including the payment from the salt crystals, I have over 2,000 silver moons in total. I'll be upfront—they're not exactly clean. I need them laundered."
One-Eyed Dragon shrank back. "How would you like me to help?"
"Do you know any art collectors?"
"Yes, but they're legitimate businessmen."
"Perfect. I'm looking for legitimate traders." Kino paused thoughtfully. "In these official transactions, there are usually receipts or records, correct?"
One-Eyed Dragon nodded. "Yes, there are receipts. They bear the local guild's seal, and taxes are paid on the sale. The tax rate for paintings is 5%."
Kino opened the burlap sack, revealing a carefully wrapped painting. He spread it out before One-Eyed Dragon. "What price do you think they'd be willing to pay for this painting?"
One-Eyed Dragon examined it briefly, scratching his head. "It's a pretty ordinary painting. Probably… a dozen copper moons at most."
Kino's smile deepened. "Surely it's worth more than that? I quite like this painting. Let's say… 2,000 silver moons?"
One-Eyed Dragon wanted to laugh but didn't dare. "That seems… a bit difficult to achieve."
Kino brought the sack of silver moons forward and shoved it into One-Eyed Dragon's arms.
Holding the sack, One-Eyed Dragon looked bewildered. "Sir?"
Kino shrugged. "That money is yours now, not mine. I hope you can reach out to your friends and sell my painting for 2,000 silver moons. Don't forget to issue a receipt."
At that moment, One-Eyed Dragon finally understood. Awe flickered across his face as he stood and gave Kino a respectful bow. With a sly smile, he said, "Now that I take a closer look, this painting conceals profound mysteries. It's almost as if it were crafted by divine hands. I assure you, it will fetch a great price!"
After laundering the dirty money through One-Eyed Dragon, Kino kept only a single silver moon and some loose copper and iron moons, then left the black market with Paladin.
As Kino twirled the silver moon between his fingers, it danced like a butterfly, glinting under the light. He had an inexplicable fondness for this currency—its silver sheen lacked the griminess of copper or iron and avoided the ostentatiousness of gold. It was elegant, understated, and had a satisfying weight in his palm.
Flipping the coin into his palm, Kino clasped it and said, "Paladin."
"Yes, sir."
"Are you hungry?"
"I…" Paladin hesitated, uncertain if this was some sort of test. Though he was indeed hungry, he felt it necessary to maintain a composed image in front of his superior. "I'm not hungry," he replied.
Kino raised a brow and shrugged. "Is that so? I was going to say, since you've been busy with me all morning, I should treat you to a meal."
Paladin was flustered. "Sir, you honor me far too much…"
"How about joining me for something to eat?"
"It would be my pleasure!"
The two made their way to the commoners' district. Kino took note of the food in this world. Among the lower classes, it wasn't too different from his previous life—staples were mostly wheat-based bread, alongside quinoa, chickpeas, and the like.
Staples were affordable; a fist-sized whole-wheat loaf cost only a few iron moons. Based on this, it seemed one iron moon was roughly equivalent to one unit of local currency in his previous life.
However, Kino had read a book the night before, titled On the Currency of the Moons. He discovered this world's economic system was quite unique: the gold, silver, copper, and iron moons not only represented purchasing power but also defined the range of goods they could buy.
In terms of exchange rates, one gold moon equaled 1,000 silver moons; one silver moon equaled 100 copper moons; one copper moon equaled 10 iron moons.
Gold moons held the greatest purchasing power and could buy almost anything—from military-grade equipment to everyday essentials like rice and salt. Of course, no one would use a gold moon for something as trivial as groceries, and vendors wouldn't have the means to provide change.
Silver moons could purchase anything except restricted military goods.
Copper moons were more limited. Items such as standardized weapons, rare metals, land, and school tuition—transactions that could be settled with gold or silver moons—could not be paid for with copper moons.
Iron moons, at the bottom of the hierarchy, were only valid for necessities like farming tools, basic textiles, grains, beans, cooking oil, and sugar, or food made from these ingredients.
Livestock, poultry, meat, eggs, and dairy were considered luxuries and could only be bought with copper moons or higher.
Most importantly, while moon currencies could be exchanged downward—gold to silver, silver to copper, and copper to iron—they couldn't be exchanged upward.
For example, one could break a gold moon into silver or a silver moon into copper for small change, but it was impossible to convert lower denominations into higher ones through official channels.
In underground markets, illegal conversions might be possible, but the fees would be exorbitant, and the risks significant.
Additionally, the type of moon currency one earned often reflected their social status and profession.
As a civil officer in Xilin Town, Kino earned an annual salary of 50 silver moons.
Soldiers like Paladin, on the other hand, were paid in copper moons, earning 2,000 copper moons a year.
Thus, in Dourland, moon currency wasn't just a measure of wealth but also a symbol of one's social class.
…
While wandering the market, Kino noticed the scarcity of meat.
This wasn't surprising. Meat required payment in copper moons or higher, and in a frontier town like Xilin, it was a luxury. Only about a thousand residents could afford it.
But Kino wasn't looking for meat. He was searching for sugar.
He had a crippling sweet tooth—a borderline addiction that left him feeling as though he might perish without sweets.
In his previous life, after being captured and imprisoned by the leader, he had been deprived of anything sugary. Even after arriving in this world, his cravings had gone unmet.
Fortunately, luck was on his side. At a local bakery, he found cranberry honey bread, a whole loaf priced at just three iron moons.
After meticulously wiping down the table and chair with a napkin, he bought half a dozen loaves, washed his hands, and began to eat.
Paladin stood stiffly like a wooden figure, watching from the side. He hadn't eaten breakfast, and the sight of Kino eating so elegantly made the bread seem even more appetizing. Unconsciously, he swallowed hard.
Noticing Paladin's gaze lingering on the bread in his hand, Kino sighed with a faint smile and handed him an untouched piece. "Here, have some."
"Thank you, sir." Paladin no longer felt the need to pretend. There was no point in denying his hunger.
"Wash your hands first."
"Yes, sir…"
After finishing his sweet bread, Kino wandered through the streets, familiarizing himself with the layout of Xilin Town.
With only thirteen days left until the Reincarnation Squad's attack, this would be the first battlefield. He needed to know every corner intimately.
The further he ventured toward the outskirts, the sparser the population became. Passing through a district, Kino saw a soldier's watchtower and a barricaded zone ahead.
Peering through wooden fences wrapped in sharp iron wire, he could see the opposite district, a place of desolation. Rain had battered the houses, leaving them mottled with mold. Broken windows bore jagged remnants of glass. Occasionally, figures shuffled in and out of the shadows, casting an oppressive gloom over the area.
Paladin leaned closer and whispered, "Sir, it's best not to go there—that's the quarantine zone."
Kino recalled Dourland's beastification plague. His eyes fell on the soldiers stationed near the barricade, each with a bird-beak mask dangling from their belts.
He recognized the design. In his previous life, plague doctors of the Middle Ages wore such masks. The beak-like structure was stuffed with herbs to mask the stench of death and eliminate pathogens, serving as a primitive gas mask.
Feigning forgetfulness, Kino tapped his temple. "Remind me—how many beastification plague cases do we have in Xilin Town?"
"A total of over 200, sir. About 150 in the upper quarantine zone, and over 50 in the lower."
"Upper and lower?"
Paladin hesitated for a moment before answering. "Sir, this is according to a royal decree. The Scarlet Church's plague doctors were authorized to perform blood therapy on the infected and divide the quarantine zones into upper and lower tiers."
Kino's gaze shifted to a corner of the barricade, where a man stood. His back was grotesquely hunched, with malformed bones stretching taut against his skin. His protruding snout resembled a grotesque tumor, and his hands, twice the size of a normal man's, bore blackened, claw-like nails and coarse, wiry hair.
There was no doubt—he was infected.
Beside him, two plague doctors in crimson robes were administering a blood transfusion. Their garments appeared soaked in blood, with warped, fractal patterns that seemed to writhe and fracture along the folds of the fabric, like the skin of some unspeakable entity.
The blood in the transfusion bag was a deep, viscous black. Though venous blood was naturally dark, this was black like crude oil.
The man, whose bloodshot eyes had been trembling moments ago, visibly calmed as the transfusion proceeded. The tremors subsided, and the crimson streaks in his eyes faded. With a long exhale, he relaxed as if a taut string had finally snapped.
"Beastification plague remains incurable," Paladin reminded him. "Once infected, it's a lifelong affliction. Dourland controls the plague with two things: salt crystals and blood therapy. The Scarlet Church's 'Purified Blood' temporarily suppresses the plague's contagiousness, but it requires regular transfusions. Without them, the contagion returns."
Kino observed as the doctors not only transfused the purified blood but also drew out the man's tainted blood, an operation reminiscent of crude dialysis.
The extracted, contaminated blood was sealed in specialized containers and carried away by the plague doctors.
When the procedure was complete, the soldiers moved aside the spiked barricade, allowing the man to return to the quarantine zone.
Paladin explained, "Those wealthy enough to afford blood therapy live in the upper quarantine zone—the area you see ahead. They can breathe the same air as us, but for security reasons, they're not allowed to leave the barricade. The impoverished infected, unable to pay for therapy, are confined to the lower quarantine zone. It's a hellish place, sir—you wouldn't want to go there. And even if you did, you'd need full protective gear."
Though Kino's wasteland-adapted biology granted him extraordinary resistance to pathogens, he wasn't certain it could counteract the beastification plague. Until he confirmed its efficacy, caution was paramount.
However, his curiosity was piqued. Seeking to learn more, he asked, "Theoretically, entering the upper quarantine zone poses no danger, correct?"
"In theory, yes. The upper zone's infected receive regular blood therapy, rendering them non-contagious. Their symptoms are mild, and their sanity isn't significantly eroded, so they aren't aggressive. Still, it's best to exercise caution at night, especially during a Double Moon Ascension. Their beast blood grows restless, and we station additional personnel at the barricade."
Kino recalled a book he'd read the previous night. This world had two moons, whose distances shifted cyclically. Every 27 days, they aligned in a phenomenon called "Double Moon Ascension."
Feigning absentmindedness, Kino tapped his head again. "When was the last Double Moon Ascension?"
Paladin thought for a moment. "If I'm not mistaken, about two weeks ago."
"Got it," Kino murmured, a faint, inscrutable smile playing on his lips. "If it's safe, let's take a look at the upper quarantine zone."