Around nine o’clock at night.
With the guidance of a local from Chenxi Port who was part of Galen’s team, Liszt had already settled into an ordinary-sized inn in the Central District.
As an internet celebrity from the East Sea, it was naturally unfitting for him to show his face in public, let alone visit the adventurer’s guild, a place teeming with prying eyes. He had two tasks for Galen.
One was to send the letter Liszt had written to Haywood of the Black Sail at Golden Palm Port— the faster, the better. The other was to hire some adventurers to run errands and inquire whether there were any relatives or friends of Mika’s still in Chenxi Port.
You see, Aran had a system of collective responsibility.
But collective responsibility depended on the circumstances: it mattered whether it was an ordinary criminal case, or a case with severe implications or political considerations.
If you randomly killed someone, that was a typical case; you’d also be killed to quell public anger. It was that simple. If there was no public rage, no one cared what happened to you. With one less labor unit, it mattered little—the vast Aran could afford the loss, easily disposing of life.
However, if the victim was a government official or some merchant with a bit of clout, even if it was not a matter of life and death, if the dignity of the state system was tarnished, then there would be no pleasant outcome. Collective punishment was initiated.
The saying "ignorance is no defense" didn’t exist and certainly didn’t fit the standards for collective punishment.
The only criterion was whether one was a beneficiary of the incident.
For example, if a woman’s husband was an expert at stabbing lords with random knives and a habitual criminal of home invasion and robbery of nobles, even if the woman was unaware, if she used that money, she wouldn’t be killed, but she would end up being thrown into a labor camp.
Of course, if the woman had neither used the money nor had any knowledge of it, then she wouldn’t be subjected to collective punishment—they would cut her out clean, and her husband would die in vain.
In all the years Liszt had known Mika, he had never seen Mika send a letter to anyone, except for the passionate pursuit letters he’d written to Qili. Mika also spent gold to learn that Qili was a visiting professor at a music academy, a professionally trained one at that. He crazily wrote to the academy, but he never received any reply; perhaps his letters never reached Qili, or they were dismissed as those of a stalker.
Thus, if Mika’s family wasn’t dead, then in all these years, he had cut off contact and hadn’t sent any money. According to the clear and written laws of Aran, his relatives and friends couldn’t be implicated—they were still out there.
But the law is the law, and its enforcement is another matter—who knows what could happen?
If Mika’s relatives or friends were still in the city, Liszt could also lend a hand; he still had forty-one Golden Dragons on him, which made him quite wealthy.
The room in the inn was extremely simple in decor, with furniture that, while not high-end, was clean and pleasant. There was even a landscape oil painting above the bedhead, clearly mass-produced and framed with cheap wood, but for twenty copper coins a day, one couldn’t be too fussy.
Liszt hadn’t taken a bath all this time; he emitted a certain odor and was still wearing the clothes from when he was attacked by Kai Deng. But he didn’t mind; his eyes turned to the window outside, where tonight Chenxi Port was having its monthly fireworks celebration—an unceasing crackle of explosions, the dazzling fireworks painting the night sky.
If Heaven Port could be half as impressive as Chenxi Port by the end of this year, Liszt would be eternally grateful.
If Mika hadn’t gotten into trouble and lived a straightforward life, with his medical skills, he might have been among the upper echelons of Chenxi Port’s society, watching fireworks from a high-end hotel tonight with a wife ten years younger than him, even getting busy while watching.
Alas, he chose another path. Hopefully, the prostitutes at Golden Palm Port were fiery enough.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
Liszt guessed it was someone from the Wind Radiance Adventure Team. To be honest, leading a group of incompetents—more trouble than they’re worth—was the only option. With these elite brothers covering for him, he wouldn’t attract too much attention.
But just to be safe, Liszt still secured the door chain to see who it was. If something seemed off, he could make an escape through the window.
He chose a room on the second floor of the inn specifically. Jumping down from four or five meters high was no issue.
He opened the door, the chain still latching it, leaving only a small crack.
But the visitor wasn’t one of Wind Radiance’s elite brothers; instead, a relatively young woman stood there. After being around, you develop an instinct to distinguish if someone is a prostitute or not. As soon as Liszt opened the door, the cheap perfume and the mini leather skirt gave it away. For some inexplicable reason, prostitutes have a high affinity for mini leather skirts, much like Obama is to the Western film ’Magic Shadow,’ or mini skirts are to streetwalkers.
"Fancy a good time? Thirty copper coins..."
The prostitute got straight to the point.
"Sorry, I am a law-abiding citizen and do not engage in prostitution. Getting caught would only add to my troubles," Liszt was ready to close the door firmly.
"Come on, Big Brother, before the Stargazing Festival, the military lords don’t care. No one will catch you," implored the prostitute with a pleading face.
Unlimited firepower is to League of Legends as the Continent Martial Arts Competition is to the strife of the Cave Realm.
Liszt perked up at this, having heard from Galen that gambling had become legal, and so had prostitution?
"Well, I can’t explain it clearly, but there are lots of outsiders around at this time, and they just don’t care."
Given the cultural level of prostitute-child raising education, it’s no surprise she couldn’t make it clear.
Liszt thought deeply.
Suddenly, it dawned on him at the Dragon Field.
He got it, it was freaking hunger marketing, the Alan Royal Court, now they were really smart! Damn, they were so manipulative!
The annual output of gambling, prostitution, and drugs, all concentrated in this quarter, it was all about face and profit.
It’s like the Western Continent’s Singles’ Day sale, you could say it’s internet thinking.
Liszt suffered from paranoid delusions, having been attacked by the people from the Thief Guild, he could only say that the enemy was too good at hiding, and the Netherworld Envoy too frightening. On the closed space of a ship, you’d never suspect a woman with a neodymium copper mistress’ look, muttering about an access card, who had both virtue and talent, was a heroic adventurer and the goddess of the year.
He had his doubts about the lax security at Chenxi Port, not because it wasn’t strict, but because the Royal Court wanted to stimulate spending.
As a grand celebration of the continent, other countries’ nobles, for political reasons, only showed their faces in the VIP seats if invited, while the major officials were ordered by their own governments not to attend, otherwise, they’d all be Alan’s dogs.
With the big shots away, the spending power took a nosedive.
Apart from some sneaky noble sons and daughters, the biggest spenders were the Triad Gangs from all over the world.
But Liszt had too negative an influence in Aran, it was no good, if it were the previous Boss of the East Sea, Doringger, he could easily swagger around everywhere.
The largest fist-fighting gambling house in the world, just the commission from the bets alone could flood Gold Mountain; it was the future Water World.
Liszt’s face darkened, the way people made money compared to thieves like himself, it wasn’t even on the same level.
The money printing machine was going on and on.
"Do you have someone looking out for you?"
Liszt asked the prostitute an odd question.
The prostitute was baffled, seeing too many stupid things while soliciting sex! Sure enough, she did have a snake head, and any woman who did business nearby without his permission would be in trouble, ten copper coins out of thirty were his.
"Just answer if you do or not."
Liszt wanted to verify his point.
"I do, okay, I guarantee it’s absolutely safe, if you want to play, play, if not, I’m leaving."
The prostitute was getting impatient, her attractiveness put her in the high-income bracket, and in the most profitable season of the Continent Martial Arts Competition, she could earn a flat in the city center in four months.
She was very proud of Aran, streetwalkers in other countries had no safety, let alone making much money.
Of course, she wouldn’t buy a house in Chenxi Port, coming from elsewhere to do business along the coast, afraid of being recognized by acquaintances back home.
Liszt had to admire her acumen.
Though the prostitute seemed to be a freelancer, for sure her boss had to pay a protection fee upwards. The question was whether the Aran Army big shots collected it or the anti-imperialists did. Read full story at NoveI-Fire.ɴet
Or it could be industry cannibalization between the two forces, each reducing their protection fees, making the sleazy dealings particularly rampant during the Continent Martial Arts Competition.
He really liked a quote from the famous literary thief, the most lethal blades are the ones unseen.
The prostitute rolled her eyes, thinking, what’s wrong with him, chatting with me if he doesn’t want to play?