21: Orc Gladiator

After listening to his aunt’s narration, Arthur finally pieced together the general outline of the conspiracy.

Just as he had previously deduced, the Sheriff and Warden Robert, after days of cooperative investigation, had reached the same conclusion.

However, besides these, Robert also believed that the group of bandits who appeared outside the city half a month ago were likely also the work of the opposing family.

“They used corruption to rope people in, forced those craftsmen to help them set up the blazing glue, and then silenced them one by one,” Arthur summarized.

“So, finding the foreman John is now of utmost importance.” The Sheriff walked up to Arthur, reached out, and took the list from his hand, “This is evidence. I won’t hold it against you for stealing evidence.”

In response, Arthur just gave an awkward smile, “Then do you have any leads for the next steps of the investigation?”

“Not yet,” the Sheriff shook her head, “but Robert’s suspicion is very reasonable; some evidence indeed points to the bandits outside the city.”

Arthur nodded: “Since you are already following up on it, there shouldn’t be anything more for me to do. I still have a pile of things to handle…”

The Earl suddenly interrupted him: “You did very well, Arthur.

“I know you have your own matters to attend to, and I understand that the difficulties you are about to face are no easier than ours.

“However, I still hope you can join the team to suppress the bandits. Before you refuse, you might as well listen to your uncle.”

Robert immediately took over, “This is a simple task, and I will assemble an elite squad to assist you.

“We have a basic understanding of the bandits’ situation; as long as we eliminate them, all the spoils of war will be yours.

“According to the informant’s intelligence, those items are worth at least a thousand gold coins, including weapons, armor, and captives.”

Arthur instinctively wanted to refuse.

The main reason he cared so much about this matter was to make the Earl take it seriously and arrange for people to investigate as soon as possible.

Now that his goal was achieved, it was time for him to deal with his own affairs.

He was not a professional investigator and knew very well that he had achieved this much by relying on his intelligence system, not his cleverness.

Seeing his hesitation, the Sheriff patted her nephew’s shoulder and advised, “Hey, kid. We’ve been working ourselves to death investigating for half a month, and our results aren’t as good as your three days of investigation.

“I don’t know how you did it, but it’s truly admirable. How about helping all the way through, like seeing a Buddha to the Western Paradise?”

Seeing this situation, Arthur realized he probably couldn’t get out of it.

He asked his uncle, “Is that informant reliable?”

“We’ve been in contact with him for a while, and at least so far, the information he’s given us hasn’t been wrong.”

“You don’t have to make a decision now,” the Earl said, “Go back and think about it carefully, and give me your answer tomorrow.”

Arthur nodded; he indeed needed to consider it carefully.

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After leaving the barracks, Arthur rode his horse towards the arena in the north of the city.

He vaguely felt as if he had returned to his previous life, constantly bustling and toiling like a spinning top that could never stop.

Damn it, I was a workhorse before transmigration, and I’m still a workhorse after transmigration. What was the point of transmigrating!

He couldn’t help but complain inwardly.

Ultimately, it was because he had too few usable subordinates, which led to him having to do everything himself.

Arthur sighed lamentably and opened his intelligence panel.

He noticed that the countdown for the slave revolt had disappeared, which probably meant Catherine had successfully appeased the other slaves.

Then, he focused his attention on the slave owner Gobler.

As a renowned slave owner in Wolf Den City, Arthur was no stranger to Gobler.

The reason for their acquaintance was simple: his previous self had once spent a fortune in the Wolf Den City arena just to prove a truth—gamblers are not worthy of pity.

After contributing a large amount of money, Arthur naturally became a distinguished guest of the arena.

Those slave owners came to befriend him, and then treated him as a gullible fool to exploit.

Fortunately, the current Arthur neither likes gambling nor arena fights.

He rode his horse past the tall, spacious gate of the arena, a gate wide enough for two four-wheeled carriages to pass side by side.

On normal days, most of the vehicles passing through the gate were slave transport carts and beast transport carts.

Those carefully selected slaves and criminals would be trained as gladiators.

Then, they would bring bloody spectacles to the people of Wolf Den City by fighting wild beasts or other gladiators in this place.

This kind of performance, filled with violence and blood, became one of the few forms of entertainment for the common people.

They craved slaughter, blood, and violence; these things would make them temporarily forget their miserable lives.

A brown-haired doorman was quick-witted and seized the opportunity to hold Arthur’s horse.

This meant he could earn a copper coin tip.

This copper coin could buy him two loaves of bread, enough to solve a day’s hunger.

“Take me to Gobler,” Arthur handed over the copper coin.

The doorman happily took it and said eagerly, “Alright, my lord! I’ll take you there right away.”

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Gobler was a lean, gloomy man; in Arthur’s memory, this man hardly ever smiled.

He always frowned, one hand tightly gripping a whip, the other resting on that uniquely shaped Calimshan Bending Blade.

According to him, this Bending Blade was traded from a Calimshan noble.

It cost him a total of ten beautiful female slaves and thirty strong male serfs.

Therefore, acquaintances were accustomed to calling him “Bending Blade” rather than by his given name.

“Hey, friend, long time no see.” Arthur dismounted and walked towards the slave owner.

Bending Blade turned to look at Arthur; his tense face showed no expression.

“What a rare guest,” he remarked in an unfeeling tone, “You haven’t been here for a while, esteemed sir.”

“I’ve been cleansing my sins at the temple recently,” Arthur joked.

His rich experience in grassroots work in his previous life made him deeply understand the principle of speaking to people in their language and to ghosts in theirs.

Although Bending Blade’s expression remained cold, Arthur could sense that his joke had somewhat relaxed him.

The awkwardness of their long-unseen meeting also dissipated.

He didn’t rush to show the pardon but continued to chat, “Anything new recently?”

“Nothing special, really. Your father asked us to select a few gladiators to perform at the inauguration ceremony, the kind without bloodshed.

“I recently brought in a batch of new slaves from Baldur’s Gate, and there are a few good female slaves among them. Would you like to see them?”

“Next time. I heard there’s a new Orc?”

Bending Blade spat to the side as if he had heard something blasphemous, “That thing is a freak; he can speak Amn.

“Damn it, how many Orcs have you seen who can speak Amn? Those beasts even stumble over Common.

“But that guy can. Old Beard said that thing can cast curses, which is why he wins every battle, because everyone who fights him is cursed.”

Old Beard was the oldest and most knowledgeable slave owner in the arena, so he was highly respected there.

“Then why did you take his necklace?” Arthur asked, puzzled.

“Oh, for earth mother’s sake, sir, I had no choice!

“I was ordered to look after that beast and was afraid he’d curse me. Old Beard said taking his necklace would protect me from curses.

“I initially sent four subordinates to get it; it didn’t work. Two died, one was severely injured and unconscious, and another was crippled.

“Damn it, can you believe it? That beast, with shackles on, took out four of my men.

“In the end, I had no choice but to drug his food and wait until he fell asleep to succeed.”

“Let me see that necklace,” Arthur said.

Bending Blade was somewhat reluctant, but out of respect for Arthur’s status, he still pulled the necklace from his pocket.

It was a rather ordinary bone necklace, showing no special features.

Arthur shrugged and said, “As a priest of the Mother Earth Church, I tell you, this Orc cannot curse, and the necklace has nothing magical about it.”

“When did you become a priest?” Bending Blade asked, full of suspicion.

Arthur took out his holy emblem and waved it in front of the slave owner, “Just recently. Also, that Orc will no longer be your problem.”

Saying that, he took out the pardon.

“He’s my problem now, unless you don’t give me the necklace, then I’ll have to ask him to have a chat with you.”

For a moment, the overwhelming information left Bending Blade somewhat unable to react.

After two seconds of stunned, he shoved the necklace into Arthur’s hand at his fastest speed and snatched the pardon.

“This is the first good news I’ve had in days, damn it!” A rare smile appeared on Bending Blade’s face, and even his tone became relaxed, “I’ll buy you a drink another day, sir.”

Arthur, however, was cursing inwardly.