C148: Info of the Golden Land
“Tell me about the Golden Trader,” Arnold asked again, picking up a bean from the plate and putting it into his mouth.
It was a little salty. The publican must have sprinkled salt over it to make the patrons drink more.
Davis’s eyes widened, the man freezing mid-gesture in surprise.
‘Looking at his face, it is clear he is familiar with them.' Arnold thought.
“Forgive my surprise, I simply didn’t expect you would be acquainted with their name,” the man cleared his throat with a cough, then took a long gulp from his tankard.
“Where should I begin...” Having finished his drink, he placed the tankard back onto the table. His expression became serious.
“The Golden Trader is an agent of the Golden Land. I dare say they are exceptionally famous within the criminal underworld, for they trade in every commodity imaginable,” Davis wiped his mouth with his sleeve before continuing, his voice dropping to a lower.
“Even human life.”
Arnold narrowed his eyes and leaned closer to the table to catch the lower voice.
“You mean… slavery?”
“...” Davis hesitated for a brief moment, before giving a nod. “Correct, junior.”
His eyes turned serious, locking onto Arnold's eyes. “The Kingdom of Conquestia prohibited slavery long ago. This is the reason the Golden Land is strictly forbidden within the kingdom.”
He shook his head, reaching down to gnaw on another tough strip of dried beef. “However, the Holy Praeleum Empire still permits the practice of slavery. That is why the Golden Land continues its operations to this very day.”
‘Holy Praeleum Empire…’ That name sounded familiar.
‘Did the Black Monument ever mention this?’ Arnold thought. He remained silent and urged the thin man to continue with his gaze.
“Unlike most of the official organizations, who has to be under the scrutiny of the church and the royal family, the Golden Land operated entirely on its own principles, with the maxim of: 'Gold is Divine, and to accumulate gold is to approach the Divine.'"
“Which means,” he pointed the fork toward Arnold “Rare materials, forbidden creatures, unstable Curses, ritual formulas, people. Morality, law, and human life, everything can be negotiable with the Golden Land.”
“It is because of this that the Golden Land is outlawed across nearly every city.” Davis cleaned his throat “except for the Holy Praeleum Empire.”
‘The Golden Land is backed up by a whole empire.’ Arnold noted the information in his head. ‘Gold is divine. What an ominous maxim.’
“This is a history I heard from Boss Danz. The boss originally hailed from the Praetus Empire, so he knows a lot about them.”
For a moment, Davis looked upward. His eyes grew distant, as if he were recalling something that did not belong to him but had been told too many times to forget.
“Both Boss Danz and Miss Cinder are originally from the Praetus Empire, but...” He hesitated, looking down at his tankard of ale, before asking, “The Tear Drop is a branch group of the Smiley Society, ya must be aware of that already, yes?”
Arnold nodded. The Black Monument did cover this. Although he felt the topic had diverted somewhat, he did not interrupt.
“The Smiley Society is...” Davis began, using his finger to trace a circle on the table. His eyes held a sentimental sadness that Arnold could perceive. “Essentially, they are... people who have grown tired of war.”
“...”
A wave of emotion rose inside Arnold.
Inside the mindscape, Izzy shifted her posture. Her usual detachment faded as she focused entirely on Davis.
“The Smiley Society. The name implies a desire to smile, junior,” Davis said, offering a smile that carried something close to grief.
“They are those who lost their families, their homes, and their friends in the endless war waged between the Holy Praeleum Empire and the Praetus Empire. They only wished to find a path to escape their suffering. That is why...” He looked directly into Arnold’s eyes, biting his lip.
“They fled.”
“…”
War.
Izzy knew war.
She was familiar with it.
She had lived through its realities, and the memory of it remained a cold weight in her soul.
War served no one. It merely brought destruction to everyone it touched, hurting her, hurting those she loved.
Those who chose to flee were branded as cowards. Yet, what of those who participated? Could their actions truly be deemed brave?
"..."
No.
They weren't brave. They merely had no choice.
To live a good life. They promised.
The ticket for the Inner City. The safe haven.
How many lives had she ended for that chance? She didn't know.
It didn't matter anymore.
How ironic.
Nothing was gained from that war.
Except for the shame and disgrace, and the wrath of the Dragon King.
“But it was not a simple act of cowardice, junior,” Davis remarked, cutting through Izzy’s thought. A smirk returned to his features as he continued.
“They call it a flight, but in truth, they ventured out into the world to discover a method to save their homeland,” he said. “Something about the prophecy, if I may recall."
Davis shook his head, making a wry smile. "Even in exile, they still love their homeland. They scattered across the world and searched for a way that might end that endless war.”
He took another drink of ale, then set the tankard down heavily on the table with a dull thud.
The dim candlelight of the snug cast somber shadows across the booth. Combined with the sour smell of alcohol, wood, salt, and dried meat, created a nostalgic, melancholy air in Izzy’s eyes.
A wave of warmth and sorrow rose within Izzy's chest.
For a moment, she felt as if she had returned to the past, to a time when "he" still sat drinking beside his pals.
The old man who often advised "him" to go rogue, desert, and run back home.
The old woman who always grunted about their equipment, flirted with young men, and loved napping.
The fellow who loved cooking and had the best dish in the world.
And the stupid guy who always ran ahead of everyone else.
They had the same goal, the same mind. The thought of the Inner City, the safe haven for their family.
But in the end, they all died.
And the ticket was never delivered.
“My apologies, it appears I have strayed onto another topic,” Davis muttered, clearing his throat.
“It’s alright.” Arnold replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath the bandages as he closed his eyes for a brief second.
He did not mind. It was a rare opportunity to learn of Danz's past, after all.
This also cast the man in a new light. Arnold had assumed Danz was just a big dufus, a lump of muscle who only knew how to command those around him.
Who would have thought that man carried such a heavy background?
‘So that big man stays in this remote village just to hide…?’ Arnold wondered.
It might be true. Or it might not.
In any case, Arnold decided he would not make light of the people in Tear Drop anymore.
Davis coughed and returned to the topic.
“To return to the matter of the Golden Land. The title 'Golden Trader' is actually the common name for their rank-and-file agents. They are a shrewd sort, and they hold their covenants in high regard.”
Davis tapped his fork against the table, as if organizing the information in his head.
"Once an individual ascends to a certain level of authority within their organization, they receive their own specific designation.
“The high-ranking employ a single character for their title. For example, Mr. C, Mr. E, or Mr. R. Thus, should ya encounter one who styles himself Mr. R, it is quite possible ya are dealing with a figure of considerable authority within their hierarchy.”
Davis rapped his knuckles against the sliding hatch of the snug. “Another portion of the dried beef, if ya may!” He then returned his attention to Arnold.
“As of now, a Golden Trader resides in this village. He is no high-ranking one, junior, but a common trader.”
Arnold winced slightly. ‘As expected.’
“We, the Tear Drop, currently maintain a transaction with them,” Davis said, leaning forward. “In exchange for coins, they supply us with their goods.”
“Goods?”
“Ya,” Davis replied, pausing briefly to choose his words. “We live quite far from the main town, so we need to manage many things ourselves, including intelligence, supplies, Stagefarer’s potions and materials.”
“Mmm” Arnold nodded. Then, remembering something, he asked again, “What about the drink yesterday?”
“Drink?” Davis was momentarily confused, his brows knitted together, “Ya mean the Lunar Spirit?”
“Yes, that one,” Arnold asked casually, “I heard one of your men say you were out of Lunar Spirit, so why did Danz insist on offering me a drink?”
To Arnold, it wasn't a big deal, just strange. The drink tasted terrible, yet everyone seemed to enjoy it and cherish it.
Davis narrowed his eyes. For a moment, Arnold caught a glimpse of suspicion and wariness in his gaze, but it quickly softened as he answered.
“That spirit ya drank yesterday, the Lunar Spirit. It is a stimulant containing Cold Yi Essence. It hastened the condensation of essence for those of the Violence and Moon factions, thereby allowing them to undergo the advancement ritual much sooner.
“Therefore, it's considered a precious drink to us.”
‘Is that why it tasted so bad?’ Arnold grimaced. Even now, he could almost feel that horrible flavor lingering in his mouth.
‘And Cold Yi Essence… what is that?’
This was the first time he had heard the term.
“And what is—”
Before Arnold could complete the question, Davis raised a hand to cut him off.
“I heard from Danz that ya walk the Spy Path of the Moon Faction.” Davis’s gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing as he leaned across the table, “So ya must know what Cold Yi Essence is, don’t ya?”
“...”
Arnold swallowed, gritting his teeth.
Inside the mindscape, Izzy gripped the armrest of her velvet chair tightly.
‘So they really harbor suspicion.’
She immediately understood what had happened.
‘I made a mistake.’
She had fallen into a trap.
First, Davis had used that entire speech about “family” to raise Arnold’s vigilance.
Afterward, because the supposed danger had passed, Arnold naturally lowered his guard. Then came Danz’s story, which softened his caution even further.
Before she knew it, she had spoken to this man without any reservations, as if he were a close friend.
This guy was trying to deceive her into exposing Arnold as a poser.
‘Tch.’ Izzy grimaced. ‘Deceivers really are dangerous.’
At the same time, she had gained another useful piece of information.
‘Spy Path. Cold Yi Essence of the Moon Faction.’
Combined with what she had heard about earlier, a new theory bloomed in her mind.
‘Harmony Yan for Harmony Faction. Cold Yi for the Moon Faction. There should be two more distinct essences left. Is it Violent Yan for Violence Faction and… something Yi?’
It was not much, but it was useful nonetheless.
In the real world, Arnold closed his eyes briefly. He slowly let out a long, calm exhale and relaxed his shoulders.
“Of course I know that,” he answered calmly.
He did not understand why Davis had provided him with an escape route by interrupting his question, but he had no intention to waste the opportunity.
“...”
Davis remained silent for a long moment before slowly nodding his head.
“I understand,” he murmured. “It may take some time, then.”