Chapter 22: Tricks
The professor's palms were a bit thin, but his phalanges were long and slender, perfect for holding a pen. He was still wearing his half-worn deerskin gloves, which felt like a layer of fine, short hair. From lack of care, they had become rough and dry, prickling his palms.
Azuka couldn't help but use a little force to shake his hand back, and the person's body temperature finally seeped out from his palm slowly, but the other party actually tolerated it and didn't struggle - perhaps he was worried that he was trapped in grief and anger and could not extricate himself, and would do something irrational?
The Savior had no intention of explaining this misunderstanding. He was a vindictive man, and the fate of the Saman family in his previous life was almost taboo, leaving everyone in fear. Yet, the God-Favoured One could talk about everything from his childhood with a smile.
"You look gentle and kind, but you might be the scariest of us all," Ole once said of him. "You're petty and have a bad taste. People don't know what they've done to provoke you, but when you suddenly get into trouble, they can't even trace it back to you."
He just smiled at the time, but the next day the other person bit his tongue for no apparent reason and had a mouth full of the most disgusting hot peppers.
Well, I was young and hot-headed back then, but now the savior has a much better temper than when he was young. He can even remain calm when facing some dirty things and not tear them to pieces.
Dirty Thing No. 1 was sneering at his professor. "The theology professor who was invited here was shipwrecked and drifted to the shore in a cargo box. He was rescued by the people of Fishtail Street. Gratitude for help paid and he bravely stood up to the evil sheriff. Mr. Brody, are you writing a script? Please let me know when you're going to act in it. I'll definitely support you for your cousin's sake."
The professor immediately retorted, "Marquis Saman, you could ask your maritime officer. The recent northward shift of the Ramandas pressure belt has resulted in frequent hurricanes at sea. Several shipping routes have been closed, but many ships have vanished at sea forever. Through my fearful prayers, I received the blessing of the sea god Odileus. Aided by the early summer monsoon and the west coast current, I drifted all the way to the coast near Huiqiao Port. If you wish, I can even show you the wounds inflicted by the waves in the cargo box."
He raised his chin slightly, infuriatingly, his tone maintaining the nobleman's usual elegant and cold demeanor. "I don't understand why you would mock the narrow escape of a nobleman of equally noble silver blood, but I'd like to believe that this stems from a lack of relevant knowledge, not a lack of kindness towards those of your same blood."
Marquis Saman was so angry that his face turned black, but he couldn't lose his temper because of Bishop Miller's presence. He could only smile and say, "Young people are just straightforward and sharp-tongued."
He raised his voice. "So, which brave sailor rescued the guests of the Glorious Church? Please step forward. He deserves special recognition."
The people of Fishtail Street exchanged bewilderment. Judging by Count Saman's scowl, the so-called "special commendation" was likely no good. Nova spotted Captain Scarpo standing in the crowd, gazing at him anxiously, and was about to approach. The favored one beside him seemed to have calmed down. He calmly released his hand and replied expressionlessly, "Sir, he's not a sailor, but a kind porter."
Bishop Miller asked with interest, "Oh? So where is the porter now?"
Count Samman suddenly had a foreboding premonition, but he couldn't control the dark-haired young man's words. "Unfortunately, I was drowsy from a high fever at the time, and he couldn't pay the tax to buy medicine for me. He argued with the sheriff and was labeled a 'mobster'. I'm afraid he died in prison. And his wife, Rose, set herself on fire out of despair, holding their infant son. There are even two charred corpses, one large and one small, at the end of Fishtail Street. This is why I stood up."
The crowd of onlookers suddenly became agitated.
"Benny?" a dockworker shouted. "No wonder he secretly picked up a large cargo box from the beach a few days ago. I asked him what was inside, but he wouldn't tell me."
Another person added, "Yes, he also bought a lot of medicine. It seems that he said his wife was sick."
"He didn't know my true identity and feared I'd been harmed by my enemies, so he kept my existence a secret. Yet, such a kind and honest man was slandered as a 'thug' by the sheriff, and his wife tragically died on the street." Mr. Brody's voice was exceptionally low, but his calm and unwavering narration revealed a profoundly moving pathos. "Sir Miller, the God of Light commands us to remember our kindness and slay those who repay kindness with hatred. How could I remain silent and watch my benefactor and his family be harmed by greedy and despicable lackeys?"
"—I swear in the name of Nova Brody that everything I'm about to say is what I witnessed with my own eyes. The Sheriff of Graybridge Harbor imposed an unfounded air pollution tax, forcing civilians unable to pay into prostitution and mining slavery. Those who objected were arrested and executed. This indirectly led to a helpless mother and child setting themselves on fire out of despair—and the anger of the people of Fishtail Street finally resounded here."
Such a horrifying tragedy touched the hearts of everyone present. The residents who were watching from afar became agitated, and some could not help but curse at the sheriff.
"Beast!"
“How shameless!”
Nit Samman screamed, "You're lying!"
He angrily grabbed the sheriff by the collar and said, "Tell me! Did you see him when you went to arrest the rioters?!"
Several of his men shook their heads in fear: "Director, it's too dark, we can't see clearly——"
They just picked some strong-looking men and took them away to get the job done. They didn't even know who Benny was.
"Idiot!" He pushed the other person away viciously, breathing heavily, and his face turned pale when he saw the cold eyes of the head of the Saman family.
The professor calmly reminded him, "If Benny were still alive, he could tell the story of all the injustices he suffered in person - I so hope he is still alive."
At this moment, Nite Samman also hoped that the other party was still alive - but there was no "if", because the "mob" that had been arrested before had all died in prison.
"The glory of Zephyr, the God of Light and Glory, shines upon every citizen of the Silver Iris Empire," Bishop Miller slammed his scepter on the ground, his expression becoming stern. "Our God once said that everyone has the right to praise everything bestowed upon them by light. His Holiness the Pope has often worried deeply about ensuring this, and has instructed us to treat others with kindness and that everyone must follow His will. Your Excellency Saman, I believe that taxing even the air is not a good idea, and forcing a righteous man to death is even more appalling."
Count Saman's face turned pale. At this moment, several sheriffs were jogging over pushing a magic light cannon. When they saw the stalemate, they stopped and looked at their boss in confusion.
"Director, this..."
Nit Saman, who suddenly felt something was wrong, didn't wait for anyone else to speak before stepping forward and heavily kicking one of them to the ground. "How dare you, you idiots, smuggle the magic light cannon?"
The man lay on the ground, begging for mercy, bewildered. "Isn't this what you asked for? You said you wanted to use the magic light cannon against the pirates..."
Seeing that even the priests of the Glorious Church were looking at him with increasingly hostile eyes, Nit Saman could not help but wail, "My Lords, I am only following the rules. The air pollution tax is the king's—"
"Enough!" Butterfield Samman couldn't bear it anymore and swung his hand heavily. He was a high-level apostle warrior. Nite Samman flew out immediately, hit his head on the steps, and fainted without a sound.
"It's my fault for not judging him well enough to trust a despicable, cruel, and cunning villain!" He leaned slightly towards Bishop Miller in a serious tone. "Rest assured, Your Excellency. The so-called 'dirty air tax' will be abolished, and Nite Saman will receive a fair trial in court."
The crowd suddenly became excited, and cheers such as "Praise the God of Light" and "Praise Count Saman" rang out one after another.
“It’s truly… breathtaking.”
The professor, his hood already back on, heard someone whisper in his ear, smiling and praising. His expression remained unchanged, as he uttered through gritted teeth, "Everyone loves to watch the performances of the great judge, don't they?"
Although he didn't know what "honest official" meant, Azuka understood most of it. He asked softly, "I'm curious, how did you know that Benny found a large cargo box on the coast a few days ago?"
The professor glanced at him and asked, "Why do you have to ask me this now?"
The Cardinal and Count Saman were still standing there. I don't know what the former said, but the latter's expression became more and more ugly. He forced himself to smile, and his whole face looked ugly and funny.
The other man softened his tone. “They can’t hear us, Professor. I promise.”
"...Okay, fluffy grass." The black-haired young man said expressionlessly.
"Hmm?" The other party made a curious nasal sound.
The professor spoke rapidly, requiring intense concentration to understand. A moment's distraction led to his words becoming a jumble of incoherent, meaningless phrases. "There's a large amount of puff grass scattered near Benny's house. This cheap, fluffy, and soft hay, when dried, only grows in the Batalha Highlands. Merchant ships near Graybridge Harbor typically fill their containers with seaweed for shock absorption. Only ships from distant lands, loaded with fragile and precious cargo, use puff grass in large quantities, resulting in cargo boxes far larger than the actual cargo itself. The hay has leached sea salt, but it's not completely fluffed up, indicating it wasn't fished out of the sea long ago. The shipowner likely found a cargo box that had drifted ashore from a shipwrecked merchant ship. As a dockworker, he's familiar with this filling and knows it contains valuable, unclaimed cargo. His wife suddenly developed an eye condition and couldn't go out to work—seeing the medicine residue and the cracks in the sealed windows—so he quietly took it away, hoping to exchange it for money for her medicine."
"Then how did you know that Benny had died in prison and there was no one to testify against him?"
"First, I just saw some unwashed blood splatter on one of the sheriff's trouser legs. This kind of bleeding is usually caused by a ruptured artery, not a simple kick or beating. Second, I tricked him.
The God's Favored One saw the other party looking towards him and smiled quickly: "--If Benny were still alive, wouldn't you still have your 'little tricks', Mr. Almighty Wizard?"
The author has something to say:
Blood splatter (from Baidu)
It refers to the bloodstains formed when the human body's arteries rupture and the blood spurts out at a certain angle to the ground or wall. The power comes from the blood pressure in the arteries.
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