In the afternoon of Red Tide City, the comrcial square was bustling, wooden stalls lined up, festooned with colorful flags.
The aroma of stewed at, the heat from baked pastries, the colors of southern brocade all intertwine, as lively as the Imperial Capital’s marketplace.
In the bustling crowd, two rchants from the south were squeezed together, chatting idly.
"Phew, this north wind is cold, but this city is livelier than the East Gate of the Imperial Capital I’ve seen." The old rchant patted the wineskin by his side, astonishnt in his eyes.
"Who would have thought? I thought the Northern Territory had long been finished. After two consecutive disasters, the whole Empire was saying only bones remained here. Who knew there would be a place that could sustain so many people!"
The other plump rchant twirled his mustache, his tone full of emotion.
They were a rchant caravan from the Southwest Province of the Empire, fellow villagers t and their eyes were full of tears, so they gathered their stalls together, occasionally chatting.
Silks from the south were displayed on the stalls, their glossy shine still flowing in the cold wind.
Passersby stopped to look, occasionally taking out silver coins to negotiate.
Behind them, a lean assistant silently sorted through the fabrics, never interjecting, observing everything with indifferent eyes.
"Let tell you, if you really want to do business, this place is better than Frost Halberd City. Over there, even food is scarce, but here, people actually have spare money and dare to buy our wares."
The plump rchant lowered his voice, his belly shaking with laughter: "Well, indeed, food is the hardest capital."
The old rchant nodded, looking at the bustling crowd, sighing: "It’s strange that the Northern Territory has such a place..."
As their idle chatter continued, night fell, and the lights in Red Tide City’s comrcial square began to dim.
The stalls were packed up one by one, the shouting gradually fading away, leaving only the sound of iron boots from patrolling knights.
The two rchants also packed the last few rolls of silk, placed them in wooden boxes, securely wrapped with canvas, bid each other farewell, their figures disappearing into the crowd.
The plump rchant and his n didn’t choose the lively tavern but turned into a secluded alley to a remote dwelling, early collective housing built by Red Tide, undemolished, rented to visiting rchants mainly for its cheap rent.
The heavy wooden door closed, the candles were lit, the atmosphere changed dramatically.
The plump rchant, who was previously covered in oil, constantly laughing, imdiately suppressed his smile, lowered himself full of respect and even a bit of trepidation.
"Sir, Red Tide City is indeed completely different from the Northern Territory."
When speaking, he dared not look straight at the lean assistant.
This man, silent and taciturn all day, finally lifted his head.
The firelight outlined a cold, hard face, sharp brows and piercing eyes carrying an intimidating nacing air.
His na is Anthony, a high-tier agent of the Jade Federation’s Silver Plate Guild.
He now handles all Northern Empire affairs.
Because his predecessor Kalan mysteriously died in an action two years ago.
But the guild didn’t abandon this land due to rumors of massive mineral veins buried under the permafrost.
If able to control undeveloped mines in the Northern Empire, it ans going head-to-head with the Bihui Guild, potentially redrawing the power map within the Federation.
Thus, Anthony was needed here, known for his ticulous handling, specially assigned to clean up Kalan’s ss.
The plump informant bent down, constantly reporting what he’d learned in Red Tide:
"I’ve been lurking in Red Tide City for over a year, ca here as a rchant since the insect disaster. But this Red Tide City is becoming more and more strange.
The granaries are absurdly full, and people actually have money to buy silk, it’s almost an illusion..."
And Anthony just listened without speaking, rely nodding lightly at tis as a response.
Talking excessively leads to mistakes, caution is his nature, even long-term subordinates can’t be fully trusted.
Red Tide City...
Anthony could see the clues within just a day’s observation.
Orderly streets, strict security, publicly disclosed warehouse accounts, every facet ticulously in place.
This wasn’t random "good luck," but a strong guiding hand behind it.
The main reason being the revered Red Tide Lord—Louis.
Before coming, Anthony had already examined Louis’s information.
A seemingly insignificant son from the Calvin Family sent as a discard to the Northern Territory to cultivate.
Yet in a few short years, he continuously achieved feats, played important roles against insect and Barbarian Race invasions.
Even earned Duke Edmund’s favor, recruited as a son-in-law, entrusted with actual Northern Territory rule before passing away.
"Such a character cannot be underestimated." Anthony murmured softly in his heart.
Originally, he had another secret mission here.
To establish contact with a hidden high-tier agent within the Empire.
However, the current situation in Red Tide City is far more complex than expected, acting rashly might expose his presence.
"Better to proceed with caution." This has been his only creed throughout his journey.
Thus, Anthony decided secretly: contact with the agent... temporarily shelved. Wait until moving to a more remote place, then act.
This ti mainly exploring the Red Tide Lord’s secret.
The subordinate’s reports gradually ceased, leaving only the crackling candlelight in the room.
Anthony listened quietly, expressionless, until the other completely quieted down, he slowly spoke.
User Comments
0 comments from readers