Chapter 1305 - Lurking (1/2)

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This is an easy job. You won’t need to take any huge risks. All you have to do is place the message in the allocated location and no one will know that you did it. The voice of the silver-masked man who called himself the leader of Black Money sounded from beside his ear once more.

Utterly ridiculous! Why earth would I help Graycastle? They even eradicated the nobles, what will I gain even if I win? Images of the conflict seemed to occur before his eyes once more.

I had thought Black Money were intelligent merchants, to think that you would utter such foolish words! Aren’t you afraid that I’ll just tie you up right now and hand you over to Lord Marwayne in exchange for a generous award instead?

If you really wanted to do that, then this conversation would have never taken place in the first place.

The man’s tone did not change, as if he didn’t care for his own safety at all.

The fact alone that I’m still sitting here is enough to prove your intentions, and it’s because that you are clever, that we’re willing to give you this opportunity.

Fueler replied in response, Unfortunately you have misjudged me. My loyalty to the Duke is unshakable. Now scram before I change my mind!

Of course, I’ll take my leave now. But my lord, this is how “opportunities” are. By no means does Black Money want to force you into this, it is your freedom to decide how you act.

The silver-masked man stood up, gave a deep bow and then lightly placed a black card onto the tea table.

I want to say something before I go: Graycastle will never forget anyone who serves them. Now…I hope to see you again.

Fueler inhaled deeply, interrupting his chaotic thoughts. The room became quiet.

Will Graycastle never forget anyone who serves… them?

How ironic. He served Duke Marwayne for the sole purpose of reviving his family’s prosperity. Roland Wimbledon, the enemy of all nobility was originally the most unforgivable person, yet now, Fueler was finding himself to be uncertain.

Although those bastards from Black Money were scum, they were utterly right. If he was really going to serve the Duke of the Northern Region to the very end then he would have ripped the card into threads ages ago, rather than carefully hiding it beneath the drawer.

After a long period of silence, Feuler arched his head backwards, sighed, then sat down in front of his desk.

He pulled out a white sheet of paper and a goose-feather quill.

Was there anymore he could lose?

The notion of taking back his territory was becoming more and more distant. It seemed like he didn’t really have a reason to grit his teeth and keep persevering.

Who cares. He wouldn’t be affected negatively in any way as long as he followed Black Money’s instructions. It would simply be akin to placing a bet on both sides. If the demons win, the current situation couldn’t possibly get any worse. If the people from Graycastle are triumphant, there may be a way for him to acquire compensation through other ways.

Finishing his thoughts, Fueler put down his quill.

…

At dusk, Fueler put on his trench coat and felt cap and walked into the “Horn Alley” of the inner city.

Horn Alley was territory belonging to the Northern Chamber of Commerce. All of the passers-by were merchants. By sunset, there were very few people out and about.

Fueler found the location that the silver-masked man had described in a place on a gentle slope. In between two brick houses sprouted a large, silver fir tree.

In fact, the delivery method that the masked man spoke of was also one of the reasons that prompted Fueler to make his decision.

With no physical contact with the recipient, the risks were largely diminished. With this, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about Black Money blackmailing him with the message, or someone seeing him interacting strangely with an unknown person.