Munitions Empire

The car drove along the somewhat bumpy road. Due to years of neglect, the once smooth roads of Brunnis were now full of patches, and the car's wheels made different sounds as they pressed over them.

"This place has become much more dilapidated since we left," the man sat in the back of the luxury car, looking through the window at the poor people crowded outside the port, waiting to go in and earn their hard-earned money.

These poor people all made their living at the docks. Some of them helped unload fish from the fishing boats, which would earn them a few copper coins, and they could also pick up some discarded dead fish to take home. Others were laborers who unloaded goods from small cargo ships, earning a little money to get by based on the amount they offloaded.

They saw the gates of the port open and immediately wanted to swarm over. But soon, they were dispersed by the guards and could only watch helplessly from behind the wire fence as a luxurious car drove out.

Some recognized this type of car because the City Lord of Brunnis owned one like it, as did the sheriffs, tax officers… it seemed that they all had similar cars.

"Heh heh, when we left all those years ago, where could such a mass of poor people be seen?" The man driving the car idly twiddled the steering wheel, chuckling without turning his head.

Back then, Brunnis was a place where even the beggars on the streets carried a certain pride. Anyone with a bit of strength could make a living in Brunnis. At that time, it was paradise on earth, where something called hope could be seen in every corner.

"It doesn't matter. We will have to come back sooner or later," the man in the back seemed to be talking about something insignificant.

"Haven't you already come back?" The driver continued to laugh harmlessly.

"Heh heh," the man in the back did not say anything more. He just gazed out the window at the neon sign billboards on the street corners, most of which no longer lit up.

The place had truly decayed, decayed to the point of being unrecognizable. Just now at the docks, he had used a pitiful bribe to make officials from Laines grovel at his feet like slaves.

The soldiers didn't even dare to approach and search him; he wasn't frisked. In his coat, he had a pistol with a silencer, and the tax officer even helped to stash his luggage in the trunk of the car.

That heavy suitcase contained a battery and a small telegram machine, whose packaging hadn't even been removed.

While stuffing this heavy suitcase into the car's trunk, the tax officer unconsciously asked what was so heavy.

At that moment, the man honestly answered it was a radio. Upon hearing this, the tax officer chuckled and shook his head, showing no intention whatsoever to open it for inspection.

Sometimes things are that fantastical. Since the tax officer from Laines had taken a bribe of five gold coins, he had become deaf and blind, never again discovering any illegal activity.

At the docks, a crane carefully unloaded one luxurious car after another onto the pier, where a group of the most experienced dockworkers busied themselves.

These cars were the highly coveted toys of the Laines Empire nobility, all premium brands from the Great Tang Empire.

A single Rolls-Royce Mirage could easily cost the lives of fifty or even one hundred loaders, so the workers here were not easily allowed to handle the vehicles.

Specially hired drivers waited on the side, watching these carefully packaged cars that had traveled over the ocean slowly touch down.

Every car's paint was as smooth and shiny as a mirror. Silver wheels and black bodies underscored the nobility of these vehicles.

The victory goddess with spread wings on the hood was a pleasing sight to the eye. Standing beside the car, the tax officer, who held a purse full of money, couldn't help but swallow a gulp.

He could only dream of owning such a car after working here half his life: and that's for a tax officer like him who could accrue many benefits. If it were anyone else, they probably could never touch such a thing in their entire life.

Everything seemed so natural when the tax officer, with an air of authority, turned around and walked towards a transport ship from Poplar Kingdom that had docked at the shore, reverting to a normal expression.

With hands clasped behind his back, he approached the ship, which didn't look to be more than 5,000 tons, took the papers from a bowing and scraping elf, and in a drawn-out, authoritative tone he inquired, "What's on the ship, eh?"

"My lord… My lord… This ship belongs to Count Gorton…" The elf with pointed ears replied while slipping a few silver coins into the tax officer's hand.

That was the common price of things in this world, the normal way to give a bribe. If a tax officer could take dozens of gold coins in bribes each day, then presumably only the Emperor's relatives would be working here.

Weighing the silver coins in his hand, the tax official turned his head to look at the ship docked at the pier, nodded, and said, "Go aboard and check to see if there's any contraband... be gentle, don't damage Sir Gorton's goods."

Hearing the instructions from their superior, a few guards knew what to do: since they'd been paid, they couldn't go overboard. If they came across something nice, they could take a bit, but not too much.

With a call, a few guards carrying guns headed towards the gangway while the other guards on the pier didn't dare get near it.

They were even afraid that if they walked over, they might bump into a Rolls-Royce import car and that could well mean the end of their job.

No helping it, because of the war, luxury goods from the Tang Country had been almost cut off for a whole year. Nobles of the Eastern Continent were so desperate they were nearly going mad.

Now that supply had finally resumed, these luxury cars, branded watches, and women's bags... which one wasn't urgently needed to be delivered into the hands of the highborn nobility?

Moreover... this ship belonged to the Tang Country! That was a ship from a superpower Empire that had just won victories against a handful of other empires!

If things really sparked a diplomatic conflict, a small fry like them could not withstand the towering fury of those national higher-ups.

Just imagine, what would happen if a Tang Country envoy complained to Leines I, stating that a little soldier at Brunnis Port had slapped the face of the Great Tang Empire? Thinking with his knees, that soldier would be infamously marked for death instantly, right?

No joke, by the time Leines I made a move, Brunnis's tax official, Lord Conrad, would have buried the soldier's entire family and then filed a report stating 'person not found', acting as if he knew nothing about it, washing his hands clean of any responsibility.

So, these soldiers and officials making a living on the docks extorted other national ships, but they feared and loved the ships of the Tang Empire simultaneously.

Love, because people from the Tang Empire were reasonable, knowing to offer bribes not to mention generous ones, fulfilling all formalities to a tee. Fear, because they really did not dare offend people from the Tang Empire, since even their Emperor was wary of the Great Tang...

The car that left the pier stopped in front of the Silver Fox Tavern, and the man in the backseat pushed open the car door, sliding out and into this ordinary tavern that had been open for a very long time.

The neon sign above the door no longer flickered, yet inside it was still clean. The young bartender behind the counter, who seemed to be always polishing glassware, glanced at the man walking in and then got back to his own business.

"Not even a welcome... looks like business isn't so hot?" The man walked up to the bar, seated himself on a high stool, and said, "Give me a martini, shaken, not stirred."

Upon seeing the dandelion ring on the man's ring finger, the young bartender let out a helpless sigh, "This code is such a pain..."

"I heard it was 'Your Majesty'." The man slapped a cigarette case down on the table, interrupting the bartender's potentially fatal slip, "'Your Majesty' devised a certain way to drink liquor; later on, our boss, the one who used to stand where you are... thought it was quite... quite stylish, so he started using it."

"You don't need to explain in such detail, I know I messed up, I run my mouth too much..." Resigned, the young man sighed, realizing he had almost dug his own grave after hearing it was 'Your Majesty's' statement.

"I brought you the latest telegraph machine." The man gestured to the car parked outside the door, "Are you sure it's okay for me to come over so openly?"

"What could go wrong?" The young man curled his lip, "Don't underestimate our infiltration power here; no one... can catch the Silver Fox."

"Don't be careless; we're in the business of intelligence." The man pulled out a silenced pistol from his chest and slid it across the table to the young bartender, "This is also the latest model, has a quiet sound, not bad."

"Could someone fire it at night, and no one would hear the shot?" The young man's eyes lit up, thinking this pistol was the kind of legendary assassin's weapon.

"Are you insane? Fire a gun in the middle of the night and the whole building would hear it." The man looked shocked as he had not realized that the young bartender was actually a tough character who had killed before.

"..." The young bartender hadn't expected the new weapon to be as advanced as he'd imagined, "Then how is it different from a normal pistol?"

"You use a normal pistol to kill someone at night, and the whole street can hear it..." The man placed a magazine next to the pistol, "Don't do anything rash..."

"Got it." The young man, somewhat disappointed, pressed down on the pistol on the counter, ready to put it away and find time to study it later when he was distracted by the tingling of the doorbell.

A girl around twenty years old entered the bar, looking nervous. She glanced anxiously at the two men near the bar and instinctively tightened her cloak around her.

Following the girl inside was the driver from the car parked outside. His hands were in his pockets, but when he saw the young bartender's hand signal pressing down twice, he then pulled them out from his clothing.