🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 68
“So this is the place?”
Silia knocked on the empty warehouse floor as she asked. Julin, who had just stepped through the entrance, nodded lightly.
“They say it hasn’t been used for a while.”
“So only regular goods have been coming through since then.”
“Yeah. Which might be a good thing—it could mean the trafficking stopped.”
“Or they just moved somewhere else.”
After the last kidnapping case in the slums, Silia had asked Julin to look into possible hideouts or black markets where people might be kept. And now, finally, a lead had surfaced.
Of course, part of her reason was to prevent more innocent people from being sacrificed—but there was more to it than that.
“I will remain by the Second Prince’s side.”
That was the choice she made then. If things had come this far, she had to uncover solid proof—proof that would cut off the Crown Princess’s interference and schemes once and for all.
‘I don’t even know how I got dragged this deep again.’
In the end, she’d just wanted to catch Ilrod—but somehow, she had ended up tangled in something even bigger. It was the kind of regret that came every time, but there was no helping it. Julin continued his explanation.
“The last time there were people in this warehouse was three weeks ago. All of them looked shabby or like they didn’t have any connections.”
“They probably weren’t in good condition either.”
Silia recalled when she’d gone to rescue Jerry and Molly. Most of the captives had been skin and bones from starvation. Some of the young ones had glassy eyes, as if they’d been drugged, and the children were sick and crying.
“Yeah. The person who saw it thought about reporting it to the guards but didn’t—he was afraid they’d question him about his own thefts.”
“Thefts?”
“The informant who told me about this was a petty thief. He was looting nearby warehouses. I like to build networks even on the streets.”
“Do you think what he saw was real?”
“…If people were being moved in bulk like goods, then yes—this is probably what we’ve been looking for.”
Buying and selling people had been outlawed in the kingdom long ago.
So if, as Julin said, they were transporting dozens or even hundreds of people at once—it all lined up.
“You did well, Julin. You really pulled this one off.”
A small, weary sigh escaped him.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting much. Guess I just got lucky this time.”
There was a faint bitterness in his voice.
“I have my limits, you know.”
Silia turned her head toward him quietly. Julin gave a wry smile.
“What? It’s true. I’m not some big-shot broker who can control information on a national scale. The best I can do is buy scraps of gossip from beggars and servants. I can’t manage them all, so my reach is limited. Most of the intel I give you—you probably could’ve found on your own.”
Silia spoke softly.
“That’s random. Why are you saying that all of a sudden? You’ve helped me plenty.”
“No. I’ve fallen short. You could’ve gone to someone much better.”
At that, Silia finally understood what this was about.
“…Don’t tell me you think I’m too good for you.”
Julin knew that ever since Silia had started accomplishing things in the capital, she’d been getting offers from everywhere. Just recently, he’d even intercepted a letter from a famous broker trying to court her favor.
He had filtered out such letters along with other unnecessary invitations and passed them to her in a neat bundle. Silia had simply set them aside—she didn’t need them.
‘I already have Julin.’
But apparently, Julin didn’t see it that way. Maybe all those letters had made him feel inferior. Silia strode up to him and gave him a solid slap on the back.
“Ow!”
“You’re saying most of the info you gave me was stuff I could’ve found on my own? Fine, maybe that’s true. But you saved me tons of time and effort. That alone is a huge help.”
“…Back at the academy, the reason I tried to get close to you—”
“Was to use me as a way into the capital? Of course I knew. That’s why I picked you to come along.”
Julin fell silent. Silia continued calmly.
“You talk like you tricked me or something.”
But if anyone’s hiding something, it’s me.
She couldn’t say that aloud—no one but Yotun knew she had returned to the past. She pushed away the pang of guilt and said instead:
“You’ve done nothing wrong. And look at today—you found a real lead. Even if it’s luck, it counts.”
“But still…”
“Stop shrinking yourself. Not if you’re one of my people.”
Silia’s tone left no room for argument.
“What would others think if they saw you like this? They’d say, ‘That Bronyu’s aide has no backbone,’ and then they’d start underestimating me too.”
“…”
“So do me a favor—walk with your head high.”
She gave his shoulder a light pat. Even so, his slumped posture didn’t quite recover. Silia sighed quietly and turned her head.
“Anyway, here…”
She stopped mid-sentence when something caught her eye—a tiny scrap of paper wedged into a corner of the warehouse. She strode over and quickly pulled it free. Julin blinked in surprise.
“You saw that? You’ve got sharp eyes.”
“Seems like a note left by one of the workers.”
Most of the papers had nothing important—just doodles and daily task lists. But then, Silia snatched up the last page and grinned.
“Julin. I’ve got a job perfectly suited for you.”
“What is it?”
“You’re the best man for it.”
On the paper, along with a date, was a note that read:
‘Deliver the goods to the Tarnia Trading Company.’
“Tarnia? Well… that is my area of expertise.”
Julin’s tone was reluctant. Silia pointed to the date.
“Look closely—when were they supposed to make the delivery?”
“About three weeks ago.”
“And when did the captives disappear from this warehouse?”
Julin’s expression slowly shifted as realization dawned.
“…That was three weeks ago too.”
Silia thought of a face—the one that had glared at her, teeth clenched, and hissed:
“You’ll regret this.”
A short, cold laugh escaped her.
“We’ll see who regrets it first.”
* * *
“Move faster!”
Whack! The man’s whip cracked through the air as he shouted. The workers scrambled to obey, desperate to avoid being hit again. The man looked around in frustration and sighed.
“Useless lot.”
“What can you do? Laziness is in their nature.”
“Brother.”
A thin man stepped up beside him. Standing together, they looked quite similar—both dressed in expensive silks, both with rings on every finger, some still smeared with faint traces of blood.
“So this is the only way to keep them working.”
“You see? You understand me. Our eldest brother’s too soft about these things.”
“Well, you can’t help it if he’s incompetent.”
The man clicked his tongue. Clearly, they were thinking of that incident.
‘The one where he went after the barony and botched it completely.’
Kallin Tarnia, the third son of the Tarnia Trading Company, shook his head at the memory. The target, apparently, had been none other than Bronyu—the up-and-coming minor noble family currently praised as the capital’s finest.
‘If only he’d swallowed that up, it would’ve been a massive profit for us.’
They could’ve easily extorted wealth or favors through threats—or pressured them through their debts.
But their eldest brother, ever too soft and hesitant, had mishandled the opportunity, gotten caught, and even canceled the debt they were owed. Their father had publicly humiliated him afterward, but the missed opportunity still stung. Kallin smacked his lips.
“Such a waste.”
“Don’t worry. There’s always another chance.”
The second son, Berin Tarnia, replied with a sneer in his tone.
“Besides, it worked in our favor. Our dear eldest brother’s influence has shrunk quite a bit, hasn’t it?”
The three Tarnia brothers had been fighting fiercely behind the scenes for succession rights to the company. It had always infuriated Berin and Kallin that their less-capable eldest brother held the largest share. But ever since that failure, Aelin Tarnia’s influence had waned significantly.
‘Now we just have to get rid of this rat of a second brother.’
‘And after that, I’ll take care of this smug third one.’
Both men thought the same thing as they exchanged polite smiles.
“Of course. I always knew big brother would slip up someday.”
“Still, try not to gloat too much. He’s still our brother, after all.”
Berin, who had started the mockery himself, subtly shifted the blame onto Kallin as he tapped his sword-cane against the floor.
“If we play our cards right, Father will choose one of us as successor. Let’s keep it up.”
“Yes, Brother.”
“Manager! I mean—Branch Masters!”
A flustered employee came running from afar. Since each of them managed one of the Tarnia branches, that was the correct title. Berin frowned at the man’s lack of composure, while Kallin raised his whip and barked:
“Can’t you even control yourself? With all the goods moving through here, if you bump into a worker and damage the merchandise, I’ll have your hide!”
“S-sorry, sir! But this is urgent!”
The man stammered, then blurted out:
“A guest has arrived!”
“And who could possibly warrant such a fuss?”
“Baron Bronyu’s heir…! And with him, Julin Sargad…!”
Thud.
Berin and Kallin froze at the same time.
