Synthesis-type adventurers

Chapter 24 Debt Liquidation

The gates of the Ruian Harbour Police Station were visible in the morning haze.

Two figures covered in mud staggered out of the mist.

Rod bent over, his hands supporting his knees, panting heavily.

His hard leather overcoat was caked with mud from the swamp, obscuring its original texture, and his cheeks were covered in dried blood—the monster blood he had deliberately smeared on three miles away was now cracking open with his pained expression.

Ivy followed closely behind Rod.

The painted surface of the kite shield was mostly peeled away by sharp claws, revealing the pale metal scratches underneath, and a few strands of rotten, smelly seaweed were embedded between the chainmail's buckles.

"stop."

The guard on night watch yawned, gripped his spear, and glanced warily at the two disheveled visitors.

"Who is it?"

"Ahem... Rhodes, a Black Iron-rank adventurer. This is my companion, Avira." Rhodes straightened up, his face showing the shock of surviving a close call, his voice still trembling slightly. "Quick, quick, go report to the Sheriff! Lord Victor von Hohenheim... something has happened to him!"

"Hohenheim?" The guard's sleepiness vanished instantly at the name. "What happened?"

"That Crimson Star," Rhodes swallowed, his eyes darting around as if still immersed in some terrifying memory, "Lord Victor tested the sword at the edge of the swamp, and it triggered a massive magical resonance! The flames... it was as if they were burning the sky apart!"

He exaggeratedly made the famous gesture.

"And then? What about the adults?"

"A beast tide... monsters are everywhere, startled! Those swamp crocodiles are attacking the master like madmen..." Rhodes covered his face in anguish. "The master ordered us to guard the horses in the rear, strictly forbidding them from approaching... We could only watch... It's too tragic, truly too tragic..."

Ivy lowered her head, her brows furrowing slightly beneath her disheveled hair.

The knightly code taught her not to deceive, but she knew even better that Victor's death was the price of greed, and that Rhodes had been drawn into the vortex to save her.

Between "honesty to the corrupt sheriff" and "loyalty to her savior," she chose the latter without hesitation.

Avira cooperated by remaining silent.

Although shocked by Rhodes's chillingly skillful acting, she avoided the guards' probing gaze and tacitly accepted the conspiracy.

The guards looked at each other in bewilderment.

It's nothing new in Rusty Harbor for nobles to cause trouble in order to show off their military power.

The legends surrounding that sword had become so legendary that it seemed perfectly reasonable for it to cause a magical incident.

"Tch, what bad luck... Now the sheriff is going to have a headache again." The head guard muttered, waving him through. "Go in, don't wander around, the sheriff will definitely ask you questions."

"Yes...yes..."

Rhodes nodded repeatedly, his body hunched humbly, but in the instant he brushed past the guards, no one noticed the fleeting coldness in his eyes.

First level passed.

-----------------

In the police station's interrogation room, ten minutes later.

The sour smell of moldy, aged files mingled with the tarry stench of cheap tobacco, clogging the nasal passages of everyone who entered.

The sheriff sat behind a large oak table, his thick fingers tapping on the surface.

Before him lay the "debt transfer agreement" personally signed by Victor, stamped with a bright red seal and bearing Ivyra's handprint.

"So, that means the esteemed Lord Victor has simply become crocodile dung?"

The sheriff glanced sideways at the two men before him, his tone devoid of any regret, only filled with the frustration of a failed scheme.

The Hohenheim family was powerful in Rust Harbor, but ultimately no match for the Brotherhood of the Gears, which was based there—moreover, the local police station was within the Brotherhood's sphere of influence.

The sheriff had previously helped Victor out of personal friendship and because of a bribe, but now that Victor was dead and under the protection of the Brotherhood of Gears, he no longer needed to bear any pressure for it.

"It's truly regrettable, sir." Rhodes stood with his hands at his sides, his attitude respectful. "This was entirely due to unforeseen circumstances."

"Hmph, force majeure." The sheriff sneered, grabbing the parchment and shaking it. "The man is dead, but the debt isn't. Lord Victor is gone, so the sheriff's office is now in charge of overseeing this debt. Eight hundred gold coins, or ownership of this woman..."

His cloudy little eyes swept coldly over Avira, like a butcher assessing the quality of a beast's meat.

"If you don't have the money, I'll keep this woman. The Black Iron Mine is short of a few strong road workers. A trained shield guard should be able to last two or three years in that toxic gas-filled, monster-infested environment before her body completely breaks down..." He forced a greedy smile, "Making full use of her labor during that time should be enough to barely offset this debt."

Avira's body tensed suddenly, and the veins on the back of her hands bulged.

For a knight, dying in the dark, sunless mines is far more humiliating than dying on the battlefield.

Just as she was about to lose her temper, a hand was placed on her shoulder.

"Sir Sheriff," Rod said, abandoning his usual humble demeanor, "I think we are all people who follow the rules."

He looked indifferent and reached into his coat.

"Rules? Ha! Here, I am the rule..."

The sheriff's booming voice was abruptly silenced by something slammed onto the table.

A black crystal card with sharp edges—the Adventurers' Guild's Iron-grade Savings Card.

"This is a ledger crystal card containing 80 Orim." Rhodes pressed his index finger on the card and pushed it toward the sheriff. "At the recent exchange rate, even with the little 'service fee' you might want, this amount is enough to exchange for 800 gold trade ducards."

The sheriff's eyelids twitched.

80 Orim.

According to the Adventurers' Guild's exchange rate, this would be enough to exchange for a hefty eight hundred trade silver ingots—if he were alive to spend them.

In the quagmire of Rusty Harbour, this means he not only has to collect five years' worth of dirty money, but he also has to sell his conscience completely to make up the amount.

The sheriff stared at the card for a long time before looking up at Rod.

The usually timid and subservient logistics staff member's honest smile had taken on a different meaning.

It was a kind of indifference that came from a superior position, as if one knew everything.

"You…" The sheriff's Adam's apple bobbed, his previous arrogance extinguished by the huge sum of money. "Where did you get so much money?"

"I was lucky. When I was exploring the dungeons outside, I picked up some relics belonging to a nobleman." Rhodes made up a story casually, not even bothering to make up a plausible excuse. "You know, there are always some unexpected surprises in those dangerous underground labyrinths."

This is a blatant lie. How could a sheriff who operates in both the legal and illegal worlds not understand? But the magical fluctuations overflowing from that card are real, and the money is real.

The sheriff's hand trembled slightly as he grasped the debit card and quickly pulled a portable magic card reader from a drawer.

"drop--"

A sharp magical notification sound rang out in the deathly silent room, and the numbers flashing on the screen made the sheriff's breathing quicken instantly.

It is indeed the full amount of Orim.

Greed instantly swallowed up all doubts.

Whether the money was taken from a corpse or stolen, once it's in your pocket, it's yours.

"Ahem... Since you're so sensible, things will be much easier."