Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 31 Mess

Three hours after the assassination at the dock, the air in the two-story building of the Hailan City Customs Office seemed to freeze solid.

Robert Hurd, the chief executive officer of the Hailan City Customs, is now experiencing a splitting headache.

His dock had a pier sunk by bombing, and his morgue was filled with more bodies, but these weren't the most pressing problems. The most pressing problem now was that his cell was overflowing with army officers.

The big boss's face was clouded with gloom, and the junior employees below naturally trembled with fear.

From the highest-ranking assistants to the lowest-ranking copyists, all customs clerks within the General Administration buried their heads in the files on their desks as much as possible, not daring to even breathe.

In Hurd's office, several directors under the Chief Executive looked solemn and silently smoked without saying a word.

The office of the highest-ranking official in customs was filled with smoke, as if a thick fog had descended.

Earlier, in the same office, after Hurd had listened to the reports from the various directors about the dock explosion a few hours earlier, he began to experience pulsating pain somewhere in his head that he couldn't feel, and the blood vessels in his temples began to throb.

Now, seeing that all of his subordinates, the directors, were keeping silent and pretending to be dead, Hurd couldn't help but sigh that none of these good-for-nothings could be relied on. He stood up and opened the window behind him.

The fresh sea breeze swept away the secondhand smoke in the office. Hurd perked up and asked the customs directors in a deep voice, "Does anyone have any information they haven't mentioned that they would like to add?"

His deathly silence was the answer.

Seeing that no one spoke, Hed frowned and continued, "Then let me summarize. This afternoon, a brawl broke out at the dock. A pier was blown to pieces, several people died, and a group of army officers were also involved."

"That's basically all we know, right? Now, the most urgent thing is how to deal with those detained army personnel. We need to come up with a solution as soon as possible." Heard leaned back in his chair, tapping the table lightly with his fingers, and suddenly sneered, "Is that army major general still yelling that he wants to kill us?"

“Uh…yes.” The Director of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau nodded cautiously. The army officers were led into the cells that were originally used to detain smugglers and were now under his command. “General Layton is resting in my office now…but I think if we continue to detain his men, he might actually come to headquarters with a sword.”

"Let him come!" Hurd slammed his hand on the table, causing small items like cups and ink bottles to bounce an inch into the air. "Are you saying the Customs Service is afraid of him?"

"Of course we're not afraid, and we certainly won't suffer losses in a head-on confrontation." The head of the Customs Service wiped the sweat from his brow and said with a wry smile, "But we can't keep those army men locked up in the Customs Service's jail forever, can we? It's not legitimate, and the customs is really in the wrong. I think it would be better to just release them. The army men seem to be cooperating with our investigation. They are all officers with names on the army's roster. Even if they are released, they won't disappear. We can just bring them back if we need anyone to assist in the investigation."

"Release them? You make it sound so easy. If it was the army that bombed the docks, why would they let us arrest them again if you let them leave today? If you ask me, we must interrogate them one by one. No one is leaving until we find out what really happened today!" Upon hearing that the Director of the Anti-Smuggling Bureau wanted to release them, the Director of the Tax Bureau jumped out in response.

He firmly disagreed with the anti-smuggling director's proposal. The two had always been at odds and were constantly at each other's throats.

"Then you should go and interrogate them! You spent the whole afternoon interrogating them, did you find anything useful? You still know nothing!" The head of the anti-smuggling department was angered and retorted without any politeness.

"What kind of interrogation is this! What can you get out of them by just asking nice questions? These bastards are definitely hiding something." The tax commissioner's face turned red as he shouted, "Commander-in-Chief, use torture! Just nod your head and I'll start the torture right now. I guarantee these army scum will spill everything they know."

"Torture? You want to fight the army?" the customs officer roared, jumping up.

With a loud thud, Herd punched the oak tabletop, cracking it. "Shut the hell up, all of you!"

The two directors, who were second only to the customs officials and held positions of power over hundreds of people, shut their mouths and angrily sat back down in their chairs.

Hurd's head was hurting even more now.

----split line----

"Hey! I'm talking to you! How long are you going to keep us locked up? What right do you customs officials have to detain us? Let us go!" Andrei grabbed the cell bars and yelled at the two guards, one fat and one thin, at the door. He kicked the cell door hard in anger, and a pound of dust fell from the cell wall.

“Sir, it’s not like we’re the ones locking you up,” the skinny guard said with a fawning smile. “Please don’t make things difficult for us. We’re just trying to make a living. How would we know if we’re locking you up? We just have to do whatever the foreman tells us to do.”

"If you don't know, then call on those who do!"

"The higher-ups aren't here right now, it's just the two of us in this cell. Would you like me to get you some water?"

"I'll drink you..."

"Alright, Andrei, come and sit down." Seeing that the skinny man was keeping a close watch on Andrei, Winters didn't want to see Andrei being tricked by his words, so he gently called out to Andrei.

Andrei snorted coldly, realizing that although the skinny man in front of him spoke politely, he was an unyielding fellow. He walked straight back to Winters' side, lay down on the ground, closed his eyes, and grabbed two handfuls of wheat straw to use as a pillow.

Winters was sitting cross-legged on the ground, shirtless, while Bud was examining the spot on his back where the man in black had hit him with the butt of a gun.

Here we must mention a counterintuitive fact: even in the future when humans begin to use lightweight polymers to manufacture firearms, firearms will still be heavier than cold weapons; an unloaded assault rifle weighs at least five pounds, while Winters' longsword weighs only three pounds; not to mention this era when wooden stocks are still in use.

So these days, a musket turned upside down is basically a hammer. Many musketeers, when caught in hand-to-hand combat, didn't even like to draw their swords, preferring instead to swing the butt of their muskets at their opponents.

Winters didn't feel much pain when the man in black hit him on the back with the butt of his gun, but now it was starting to ache.

"Those assassins were ruthless," Bard remarked, clicking his tongue as he tentatively pressed his finger against the bruised area. "Does this pressure hurt?"

"How can it not hurt? You'd feel pain if you got hit," Winters said with a wry smile.

"I mean, does your bone hurt?"

"It's alright, it hurts a little, but I can bear it."

"That's good, you probably didn't break any bones. It's probably because you were wrestling with him that he couldn't exert much force." Bard speculated on the situation and gave the doctor's advice: "Even if the bone in this location was really broken, there's nothing that can be done but rest. In any case, just rest quietly for a month and don't do anything reckless."

"That bastard is utterly shameless! He even secretly wore a breastplate under his robe!" Winters grew angrier and angrier, his anger reaching a fever pitch: "If I had been wearing plate armor, would he have hurt me?"

Bard helped Winters, whose back ached whenever he raised his arm, put his clothes back on and casually remarked, "Really? I think those black-robed men were quite skilled with their swords."

These words struck a chord with Winters. Recalling his encounter with the assassin, Winters said seriously, "He was indeed very skilled. The black-robed man who hit me with the butt of his gun had extremely precise distance control. Moreover, their swords were weighted on the guard, making them extremely flexible. In a real one-on-one fight, I probably wouldn't be his match. I'm afraid I'd have to bring Ike to guarantee a win."

“I reckon you couldn’t find many swordsmen in the entire bay who could rival the Master,” Bard said with a laugh. “Haha, that was just a competition. We’ve seen blood before. If it were a real fight, Ike might not be able to beat us right now.” Winters smiled as he thought of Ike, and said enthusiastically, “My understanding of swordsmanship has reached a new level. If I carried a short spear like the man in black… I wouldn’t be afraid even if I faced Ike. Hmm, one might not be enough; carrying two would be safer.”

"Did you see how he managed to fire the musket without using a matchlock?" Bard had never figured this out.

“I couldn’t see it clearly, it must have some special design.” Winters shook his head. He had taken a close look at the black-robed man’s musket and confirmed that it did not have a matchlock, but he still couldn’t see the specific structure.

However, Winters recalled how he had subdued the man in black robes on the pier and said happily, "That man in black robes had a special musket, but I still kicked him unconscious. If his accomplices hadn't come to his rescue, I could have captured him alive. Once we're out of here, I'll put iron plates on the tips of my boots, and next time I'll just kick his jaw off."

He boasted with a touch of pride, "I'm increasingly realizing how important that experience of boarding the pirates was. Ike might not be able to handle the two of us now."

“What real combat experience? It’s nothing more than improving my killing skills.” Bard, however, did not share Winters’ pride. He bitterly lamented, “I can’t even imagine what my father and mother would think if they knew I had killed someone.”

These words struck a nerve with Winters. What would his family think if they knew how many lives he had taken? His pride vanished instantly.

Winters offered a dry consolation to Bud: "We've spent so many years at military school learning this skill, haven't we? Sigh, there's nothing we can do about it, don't think too much about it. Like Andrei said, 'Treat yourself as a tool,' it'll make you feel better."

Just then, a voice, both surprised and delighted, came from the other end of the cell: "The major is awake! He's awake!"

A few hours earlier, Winters and Major Moritz jumped into the sea to avoid an explosion, but Winters didn't realize he couldn't swim until he choked on water.

As he panicked, thrashed about, and was on the verge of drowning, a pair of strong arms grabbed him from behind and pulled him to the surface.

Even now, when Winters recalls the feeling of almost drowning in the water, he can't help but tremble.

Winters initially thought the major had saved him, but when he was dragged ashore, he discovered that it was not the major who had saved him, but his old classmate Benway.

Where is the major? There's no sign of him on the sea anymore. Turns out, the major can't swim either!
Before Benway could exchange pleasantries with Winters, he plunged back into the water.

After a while, he was seen floating on the water with the major in his arms.

The major, who had just been dragged back to shore, had stopped breathing. The dockworkers tried everything they could think of, from gagging his throat to sniffing his nose, to finally pull him back from the brink of death.

However, after a brief recovery of consciousness and breathing, the major fell into a coma again.

The army warrant officers were then surrounded by customs guards who rushed over after hearing the commotion, and the confused warrant officers and the equally confused customs guards faced off.

After negotiations, Brigadier General Layton ordered the warrant officers to "go to customs with dignity to cooperate with the investigation," but he did not specify what constituted "with dignity."

So the warrant officers were not searched, and with their luggage, they were politely "invited" into the customs department's cell.

Major Moritz was supposed to go to the Customs Commissioner's office with Brigadier General Layton to "rest," but since the major was still unconscious, he remained in the cell under the care of the warrant officers.

The major, who had just woken up, was very weak. His eyes were barely open, his mouth was half-open, and his lips were trembling slightly.

"Water, quickly bring water!" The classmate supporting the major hurriedly called for help.

The thin guards quickly poured a glass of water, which the warrant officers passed from hand to hand to the person in front of the major. Everyone hurriedly helped the major sit up and carefully fed him the water.

Water trickled into the major's mouth, and the warrant officers all breathed a sigh of relief.

Unexpectedly, just as the weight was lifted from my heart, the little bit of water I fed the major was vomited up by him.

Everyone was dumbfounded.

Winters was stunned to see the water he had been fed come back up.

But looking at the major's haggard face, a sudden flash of inspiration seemed to hit him, and he instantly understood what was going on.

The major wants a drink!
Winters yelled at the two guards, “Wine! Bring me wine! No water! Bring me wine now!”

"Sir, where am I supposed to get you some wine at this hour?" the thin guard said helplessly. "I don't even have any wine to drink. Can't you just make do with water?"

"(Swearing)! If you can't do it, go find your boss!" Seeing that this corrupt official still dared to play tricks on him at this point, Winters was furious. He roared, "Bring me the wine! Or I'll kill you!"

The two guards turned pale with fright, and the thin guard quickly left the cell.

He returned quickly, accompanied by Brigadier General Layton and the cell boss.

The cell door creaked open, and Brigadier General Layton strode to Major Moritz's side. Seeing that the major had regained consciousness, he breathed a sigh of relief.

The warrant officers poured the wine that the major general had brought into glasses and fed it to Major Moritz little by little.

This time, the major didn't spit it out; his throat moved up and down, indicating that he had swallowed it.

Winters sensed a hint of relief on the major's face, tears welling in his eyes, and his complexion had improved considerably.

The major drank a whole glass of red wine before signaling to the cadets that they no longer needed to feed him.

Brigadier General Layton noticed that Major Moritz's condition had improved considerably after a glass of wine, so he leaned over and asked with concern, "Major Moritz, how are you feeling now? Can you speak?"

Unexpectedly, the major ignored Brigadier General Layton's words and paid no attention to him, which immediately made the major look somewhat annoyed.

Winters sadly explained to Brigadier General Layton:
"General, the major has gone deaf."

(End of this chapter)