Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Thinking of this, Moen looked at Herman: "When are the choir members coming?"

Hermann's expression hardened, and he lowered his voice.

"Four days later, the goods were received at the former site of the Black Dove Church."

Ferru frowned immediately: "You really want to connect with them?"

Why not?

"That group of people is unclean."

"Who's clean?" Moen retorted.

For a moment, Fairu was blocked.

Moen picked up his glass and slowly swirled it.

"The Shattered Bone Gang is gone. If I want to live, I have to find a new banner."

The Brotherhood is currently at its peak, but unfortunately, the new governor doesn't seem like the kind of person who can tolerate others.

Not to mention Tusol, they even feed their own people.

On the contrary, the Whispering Choir, though a bit eerie, was quick to buy goods and genuinely helpful in protecting the road.

Hermann nodded in agreement, "Exactly, exactly. If we can get on that side, we can—"

"Us?" Moen suddenly turned his head and gave him a half-smile.

Hermann's face stiffened, and he immediately changed his words: "It's you, it's you from now on."

Moen scoffed, too lazy to bother arguing with the fat man.

He has seen many such people.

If a knife were truly held to his throat, he would be the first to kneel.

Suddenly, a series of staggering footsteps came from downstairs, followed by two knocks on the door.

"Enter."

The door opened, and Baker walked in, his cloak stained with mud, carrying a short whip in his hand, and with a look of self-satisfaction on his face, as if he had accomplished something.

"Mr. Moen, Mayor, the person has been brought."

"Bring it up."

"Yes."

Baker turned and went downstairs. A short while later, two people were roughly pushed in.

One of them was a tall, thin man in his forties, with his hands tied behind his back, his shoulders and back hunched, and his face covered in bruises. He was Adel, who had been beaten in the fields during the day.

The other was a young girl, her clothes were a little disheveled, her hair was half-out, her face was pale, and her eyes were full of panic, but she still bit her lip and refused to cry out.

Upon seeing this, Ferru's face immediately darkened completely.

"Hermann!"

Hermann avoided his gaze and said only to Baker, "The stuff in your mouth is gone."

The cloth strip was ripped off, and Adel coughed a few times before looking up and cursing angrily: "You beasts! This land is our ancestral land—"

Snapped!

Baker lashed out with his whip, striking him directly in the face.

Did I give you permission to speak?

The girl screamed and rushed forward to shield Adel, her voice trembling, "Stop hitting him! Don't hit my father! You want the land deed, right? We'll sign it, we'll sign it..."

Upon hearing this, Adel's eyes turned red, and he roared, "Don't sign! That's land your mother risked her life for!"

Tears welled up in the girl's eyes, but she still held him tightly with her hands.

As Feru watched this scene, his palms clenched tighter and tighter.

Moen simply watched quietly, his eyes showing little emotion.

He had seen too many scenes like this.

Crying, shouting, cursing, fighting desperately... in the end, they still have to give in. People are different from the earth; the earth doesn't kneel, but people do.

Herman coughed and picked up a land deed from the table.

"Adel, don't make things too ugly. Sign the papers, and the previous debts will be wiped clean, and your daughter will return home safely. If you insist on pushing your luck—"

"You're dreaming!" Adel gritted his teeth, the whip mark on his face twitching. "Hermann, you heartless dog, someone will deal with you sooner or later!"

Hermann's face immediately darkened.

Moen suddenly laughed.

"Has someone cleaned up?"

He stood up, slowly walked to Adel, looked down at the farmer who was as thin as a withered tree, and spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone.

"You're right, there will always be someone who has to deal with others in this world."

"The problem is, will the person who comes deal with me?"

He bent down and straightened Adel's disheveled collar with an eerily gentle touch.

"Who are you going to complain to in the North District? The Brotherhood? That young governor has been busy with his cultivation, banquets, and territorial expansion lately."

Does he even know who you, Adel, are? Would he really come all the way to Scamay just for your two acres of land?

Adel stared at him intently, without uttering a word.

Moen's smile faded.

No, it won't.

"The truly great people climb up by stepping over corpses. They don't care who died."

In their eyes, you're worth the same as wheat in the field—harvested once, and it can grow back next year.

So, don't wait any longer.

"Sign the papers, and at least your daughter won't die tonight."

As soon as he said that, the room fell silent.

Even Hermann remained silent.

The girl trembled all over, her face was so white it was almost transparent, and she stared at her father without blinking.

Adel's chest heaved violently, like a broken bellows about to burst open.

Ferru finally took a step forward, his voice extremely low.

"Mount, that's enough."

Without turning his head, Moen said, "You want to protect them?"

"I said, that's enough!"

"Feru." Moen slowly turned around, looking at the knight commander who had once cut down two bandits with a single blow at the town entrance. A hint of coldness finally appeared in his eyes. "You'd better know your place. You're sitting here not because you're cleaner than me, but because you're willing to be dirty with me."

Ferru's facial muscles twitched, and his right hand was already on the sword at his waist.

Seeing that things were not going well, Baker and the other knights also gripped the handles of their guns.

The atmosphere tensed instantly, like a fully drawn string.

At that very moment, in the night breeze outside the window, a very light footstep suddenly swept past the wooden wall.

Light as a cat.

No one noticed.

Only a tall, thin man standing at the very edge, responsible for guarding the gate, seemed to have heard something and subconsciously glanced through the crack in the window.

It was pitch black outside the window.

But for some reason, he felt a strange chill run down his spine.

……

Outside the mill.

Siren stood in the shadows at the base of the wall, one hand resting on the rough wooden planks, his expression calm.

Every single word inside reached his ears clearly.

Rena stood to the side, her face already cold and unpleasant, illuminated by the light filtering through the window cracks.

Secret Whisper Choir.

Black Dove Church.

The goods will be received in four days.

In addition, there are land deeds, flower fields, the Knights, the mayor, and remnants of the Shattered Bones Gang...

This case is no longer as simple as the exploitation of the people in the township.

This is a line.

A line that is extending deeper into the distance.

"Governor," Rena said softly, "should we wait until Kusso's men get closer and then block off the second floor and the back door as well?"

Xilen did not answer immediately.

His distant hearing still extends outwards.

Behind the mill, at the edge of the flower field, there were indeed two hidden sentries.

Go deeper...

The faint, almost imperceptible murmur still lingered, like someone buried in the mud, their lips pressed against the roots, repeatedly reciting a vague and cold sentence.

The voice didn't come close, but it was like a fine needle gently grazing his nerves.

A cold glint flashed in Xilun's eyes.

"Lena".

"exist."

"Have the team at the back door move forward another thirty paces, with their guns pointed at the windows. Leave two men in the drainage ditch on the north side to keep watch. If anyone jumps into the ditch, whoever it is, shoot them on sight."

"clear."

"Also, don't touch the flower fields in Zhennan yet."

Rena was taken aback: "Not moving?"

Xilun's gaze swept over the larks gently swaying in the night breeze, and he said calmly, "There's something inside."

Rena's heart skipped a beat. She didn't ask any more questions and turned to relay the order.

Xilun remained standing in the same spot.

Inside the second-floor room, Adel's heavy breathing, the girl's suppressed sobs, Herman's guilty swallowing, the soft sound of Ferru's palm rubbing against the hilt of his knife, and Moen's steady, almost indifferent breathing...

These sounds were exceptionally clear to his ears.

A few breaths later, he raised his head, his gaze piercing through the night and landing on the only lit window on the second floor.

The people inside were still doing their accounts.

They probably never imagined—

Tonight, the person who should be punished has changed.

Not far away, a musketeer quickly crept up and whispered along the wall, "Governor, everyone's in position."

Xilun nodded.

He raised his hand and slowly buttoned the top button of his trench coat, his expression as calm as if he were going to an ordinary banquet.

"very good."

"Open the door."

boom.

The thick wooden door on the first floor of the old mill was kicked open from the outside.

The door hinges groaned under the strain, splinters of wood flew everywhere, and the cold wind outside, carrying the smell of night and earth, rushed in, making the kerosene lamp on the wall flicker.

The guards downstairs were stunned for a moment, then shouted loudly.

"who!"

"stop!"

The sounds of gun bolts being cocked, swords being drawn, and tables and chairs clattering together created a chaotic scene.

Herman, on the second floor, was so startled that his hand trembled and he almost knocked over his wine glass. He suddenly stood up.

"What's going on!"

Ferru reacted the fastest, turning around abruptly, grabbing his sword from the table, and rushing to the railing to look down.

The first-floor door was wide open, and in the darkness, a tall, straight figure walked in, stepping on the scattered wood chips.

He wore a black trench coat and a dark gray suit, his expression was calm, and his pace was slow.

But the moment he appeared, the air in the room seemed to inexplicably become heavier.

Despite outnumbering the armed guards, none of them dared to rush forward first; instead, they instinctively took a half-step back.

Moen was still sitting.

Upon seeing that excessively young face, his eyelids twitched slightly, and he instantly stood up.

He never met Siron in person.

But that face, that age, that commanding presence…

In addition, there's been a lot of news circulating in the North District lately.

He could guess who the other person was almost without needing an introduction.

"Silen..." Moen murmured, his eyes darkening completely for the first time.

Herman's face turned pale instantly, and his lips began to tremble.

"No, that's impossible..."

"How did he end up here!"

Ferru stared intently downstairs, his grip on the knife hilt tightening, his breathing heavy and labored.

Meanwhile, Xilun had already reached the top of the stairs and looked up at the second floor.

"It's quite lively."

His voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.

"Have you finished settling the accounts?"

Upon hearing this, Hermann's legs went weak, and he almost collapsed on the spot. Beck felt a chill run down his spine and turned to run towards the back window.

Moen suddenly raised his hand and shouted, "No one is allowed to cause trouble!"

His shout did manage to calm things down a bit.

Moen stared at Xilen downstairs, his eyes shifting several times before he suddenly broke into a smile.

"I was quite surprised that Governor Siron would personally visit Scamay in the middle of the night."

Xilun climbed the stairs step by step, the soles of his boots striking the wooden steps with a steady and clear sound.

"An accident?"

"You're controlling the land in the North District, living off the people there, and you're even planning to ship your goods out. If I didn't come, wouldn't I be giving you too much credit?"

Moen's smile remained unchanged, but his eyes grew colder.

"Your Excellency's words are rather harsh. Businesses in towns and villages naturally have their own rules; I'm merely helping to maintain order in the town—"

"Maintaining order?"

Xilun stopped halfway and looked up at him.

That one glance was flat, yet it sent a chill down Moen's spine.

"Tying people up, forcing them to sign land deeds, and exploiting the common people through the Knights Order—is that what you call maintaining order?"

"Colluding with former members of the Shattered Bones Gang, smuggling flower oil, and using coded language with the choir, all under the guise of maintaining order?"

Or perhaps—

Xilun's gaze shifted to the half-eaten plate of laver flower mud on the table, his eyes turning slightly cold.

"Using human lives to fill flower fields, is that what you call maintaining order?"

As soon as the last sentence was uttered, the expressions on the faces of the people in the room changed.

Herman's mouth was open, but he couldn't say a word.

Ferru suddenly looked at the flower mud, then at Moen, a vein throbbing on his forehead: "What do you mean?"

Moen's smile finally faded.

He hadn't expected that Xilun would know so quickly and in such detail.

But he wasn't a good-for-nothing like Hermann; after a moment of panic, he calmed down much faster.

"Since Your Excellency has investigated so thoroughly, you must also know that many things in this world cannot be solved by killing a few people."

Moen said slowly, "If you take me tonight, someone else will take over Black Birch Town and Mist Creek Town tomorrow. It's not just Moen who's ruined in these towns; it's the whole road, the whole network."

"Oh?" Xiren continued walking uphill. "So?"

"So why did you have to get involved in this mess?"

Moen stared at him and said, word by word, "You are the Brotherhood Governor, a rising star in the North. Moving up is the right path for you."

In a place like Scamay, the death of a few peasants and the loss of a few acres of land are not worth your effort.

If you compromise tonight, I'll give you thirty percent of this year's flower oil, land rent, and toll fees. No, forty percent.

Herman was horrified, and Ferru's face turned ashen.

But Moen seemed not to see it and continued to look at Xiren.

"The Brotherhood wants territory, not justice. We're all in the same boat, why bother—"

"Who's on your side?"

Xilun interrupted him.

His tone was indifferent, almost devoid of emotion.

But when those words were spoken, Moen clearly felt as if he had been slapped in the face.

Xilun finally stepped onto the last step, stood at the second-floor entrance, and glanced at everyone present.

Adel and his daughter were still bound, one with a face covered in blood, the other pale.

Ferru stood to the side, knife in his hand, but he hesitated to draw it.

Herman's chubby face turned pale, and his forehead was covered in sweat.

Moen stood behind the long table, his right hand already silently reaching towards his waist.

Baker and the knights stared intently at the doorway, their eyes filled with both fear and ferocity.

Xilun looked at them and spoke calmly.

"I'll give you a chance."

"Put down your gun, put down your knife, and squat down."

"Those who are willing to confess, live."

"Keep standing—"

He paused, his eyes turning cold.

"die."

The room was deathly silent.

The next second, Baker's expression changed drastically. As if unable to bear the pressure, he suddenly raised his gun and roared, "Fuck you—"

boom!

Gunshots rang out.

But it wasn't Baker who fired the first shot.

Almost the instant he raised his hand, Xilun's right hand shot out like a ghost, his palm pressing down on the barrel of the gun. With a burst of strength, the entire musket was bent off course.

The bullet blasted into the ceiling at an angle, sending wood chips scattering down.

Beck's pupils contracted sharply. Before he could even feel fear, Xilen grabbed his neck with his left hand and pressed him down sharply!

boom!

The entire wooden table was smashed to pieces on the spot, and account books, land deeds, money bags, and wine glasses were scattered all over the floor with a crash.

Baker's head hit the broken wooden planks, and he passed out on the spot without even letting out a scream.

This happened so fast that almost no one could see it clearly.

Herman gasped, his legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground.

"shot!"

Mo En shouted, and at the same instant, he took half a step back, and with a swift motion from behind his waist, he drew a short-barreled musket!

Outside the window, downstairs, several shouts rang out almost simultaneously.

"Don't move!"

"Musketeers, all of you, crouch down!"