novelbin Chapter 138 : Chapter 138
Chapter 138 : Chapter 138
Chapter 138. An Old Acquaintance
Many passing men nearly had their eyes popping out, yet none dared to reach out recklessly.
Because the sirens were not only holding pearls—they also carried daggers sharpened from shark teeth.
“They’re from the Tidelan Kingdom,” Logaris said, keeping his gaze straight ahead. “Their singing has a mild hallucinogenic effect. Listen to it too long, and you will end up emptying your wallet on useless junk. For example, those dried sea snakes that supposedly boost virility.”
Sylvia glanced at him. “Have you bought any?”
“For academic research,” Logaris replied expressionlessly. “To test resistance against illusion-type spellwork.”
They continued walking.
At the entrance of a particularly high-end shop on the street corner stood several individuals with golden hair, blue eyes, and pointed ears.
They wore exquisitely tailored silk robes, their chins raised higher than their foreheads, haggling with a group of human merchants.
“Golden Elves.” Logaris clicked his tongue. “Natives from Meriga. With some inherited ancient magic and successful business ventures, these fellows think they are superior beings wherever they go.”
“It seems Lilith’s obsession with money is a racial trait,” Sylvia remarked.
Further ahead, the scene shifted again.
Several elves wearing garments made of some special fabric, with feathers tucked into their hair, squatted by the roadside. Before them were finely crafted wooden carvings and potions. Even in such a noisy marketplace, they carried an air of detachment—or perhaps dullness.
They were of the same race as Iowen—natural elves from the southern royal court.
“They look nothing like Iowen’s slick-tongued self,” Logaris said, raising an eyebrow.
They did not shout to attract customers, nor did they bargain. If you liked something, you paid and took it. If not, you left.
For such a laid-back business style to survive in a place like White Harbor, where people devoured others without leaving bones, could only mean their craftsmanship was truly exceptional.
“So this is the ‘strategic stronghold’ you mentioned.” Sylvia looked at the chaotic mix of beings filling the streets, her tone tinged with amazement. “If I had not seen it myself, I would never have believed the Northern Territory had such a prosperous place.”
“Prosperous, yes—but I doubt many of those coins actually belong to the Northern Territory government.” Logaris pointed toward the tallest white building in the distance. “Look over there—the Port Taxation Bureau.”
At that moment, the grand white building was surrounded so tightly that not even a drop of water could pass through.
The crowd was packed in layers upon layers, and the noise was so loud it drowned out even the sirens’ singing across the street.
“Move aside! This is our young master’s business! Anyone who does not want to die, get lost!”
Several guards in golden uniforms were trying to disperse the crowd, but there were simply too many onlookers.
Taking advantage of his height, Logaris stood on tiptoe and glanced inside.
Well, well.
A familiar face.
At the center of the crowd, a blond young man paced back and forth like a furious lion.
He wore an extravagant purple velvet coat, its collar open to reveal a frilled shirt beneath.
His handsome face was flushed red with anger, and he gripped a gemstone-studded cane, pointing it at the person opposite him as he shouted.
“You damn fat pig! Say that again?! These five ships are carrying construction materials for Winter City! This is a tax exemption order personally approved by the Acting Governor! What right do you have to detain them?!”
He roared himself hoarse, completely devoid of noble decorum.
Was this not his old classmate from the academy—the young master of the Golden Griffon Merchant Guild, known as the “a walking treasury”—Phoenix de August?
Standing opposite Phoenix was… a lump of flesh.
Truly, a lump of flesh.
The man was so fat his neck had disappeared entirely, his entire body resembling a cone made of piled-up fat.
He wore a tax officer’s uniform stretched to the brink of bursting, holding a handkerchief as he leisurely wiped the grease from his forehead.
Facing Phoenix’s fury, the fat man did not even raise his eyelids.
“Young Master August, that is not quite correct.”
His voice was slow and greasy, the kind that made one want to punch him. “The Acting Governor did indeed approve a tax exemption—but that exempts entry tax. This is White Harbor. What we collect here are ‘port maintenance fees,’ ‘dock berthing fees,’ and ‘special cargo inspection fees.’”
He raised three sausage-like fingers and wiggled them.
“Not a coin more, not a coin less—thirty percent of the total cargo value.”
“Bullshit!” Phoenix nearly smashed his cane into the man’s face. “Even the bandits along the Blackwater River only charge ten percent! You open your mouth and demand thirty? Why do you not just rob us outright?!”
“This is called regulation.” The fat man chuckled, his flesh trembling. “In White Harbor, the Tarassa family is the regulation. If you think it is too expensive, you are free to sail away. But let me remind you—once night falls, the sea gets rough. If you happen to encounter pirates… that will not be something thirty percent can settle.”
A naked threat.
Phoenix trembled with rage.
Who was he? The heir of the Golden Griffon family! Who had ever dared speak to him like this?
But the old steward behind him clung tightly to his waist, pleading desperately in his ear: “Young Master! Please calm down! This is Tarassa’s territory! Even a powerful dragon cannot suppress a local snake! If we act now, these ships will truly be lost!”
Phoenix clenched his teeth, his cheeks puffed like a hamster’s.
He knew the steward was right.
But he could not swallow this humiliation!
These ships were loaded with the magitech materials Logaris had specifically requested for building some “Magitech Academy.” If the construction was delayed, how could he face his old classmate?
“Looks like your old classmate has run into trouble,” Sylvia said, crossing her arms. Behind her sunglasses, her gaze had turned cold.
“They are completely disregarding Winter City’s authority,” Logaris said, his expression darkening.
Although Phoenix usually appeared unreliable, he was always dependable when it came to business. This shipment was indeed urgently needed.
“What should we do? Reveal ourselves as ‘Northern Territory investigators’?” Sylvia asked.
“Not yet.” Logaris pulled a coin from his pocket.
It was no ordinary gold coin.
It was a commemorative coin engraved with the emblem of Saint Arcadia Academy. Within the academy, it had another nickname—the “Course Failure Retake Order.”
Back then, Phoenix had failed Alchemy and had been mercilessly mocked by Logaris with this very coin.
Logaris held the coin between his thumb and middle finger.
“Let’s help him cool off a bit.”
The fat tax officer was still rambling on: “Young Master, if you cannot produce the money, then these ships will undergo ‘harmless processing’…”
Phoenix, trembling with rage, was just about to pull out his wand and fight.
At that moment, a faint sound of something cutting through the air rang out.
WHOOSH—!
A silver flash pierced through the dense crowd, as if guided by invisible eyes, grazing the oily, gleaming forehead of the fat tax officer with pinpoint precision.
It even took a few sparse strands of his hair with it.
“Ah!” The fat man jolted in fright, stumbling backward and nearly tripping over his own belly.
Clink.
The object traced a graceful arc through the air before landing squarely in Phoenix’s hand.
It was cold to the touch.
He looked down—and his pupils shrank instantly.
The coin, engraved with the emblem of a book and staff, gleamed familiarly under the sunlight. Along its edge, a line of extremely tiny words was etched:
[Want to fail again, idiot?]