35: Aunt's approval (thanks to the recommendation vote of busy idler 1917662))

The army mess hall was spacious and bright, with rows of tables and chairs neatly arranged.

The soldiers ate in an orderly fashion, their low conversations interspersed with the clinking of knives, forks, and plates.

Serving in Amn's army was not a promising choice; the pay for low-ranking soldiers was pitifully small, almost negligible.

However, the army provided three meals a day, which was at least better than facing starvation as a vagrant or poor farmer outside.

Because of this, the military camp became a refuge for many desperate people.

Most low-ranking soldiers were children that poor families couldn't afford to raise, conscripts used for tax deductions, or hooligans and gamblers who had committed crimes.

After their service period ended, most would leave; only a very small number could be reshaped in the army, transforming into true soldiers who obeyed discipline and orders.

Arthur's appearance did not attract much attention; only a few curious new recruits showed interest in the noble who appeared in the mess hall, discussing him amongst themselves.

But they were quickly reprimanded by their officers.

The food in the army mess hall was a disaster; Arthur didn't dare touch the rye bread, which was so hard it could be used as a weapon, and only took small sips of the watered-down ale.

His aunt, Sheriff Adelaide, however, gnawed on the bread without a care and drank the thick soup stewed with some unknown meat.

Arthur began to understand why Adelaide, as a woman, could hold a leadership position in the Sheriff's office, which was overwhelmingly dominated by men.

“So, where did you get the intelligence you sent?”

“The Pink Pig Brothel.”

The Sheriff spat out a piece of bone from her mouth and said with disgust, “I knew it was there.”

“That damned bitch has a huge problem with us law enforcement officers; we asked several times and got nothing out of her.”

“Maybe if you collected less protection money, their attitude would be better,” Arthur suggested.

“To hell with those stinking bitches!” the Sheriff said disdainfully. “Without our backing, her lousy brothel wouldn't be able to operate at all.”

“What's wrong with collecting a little money? Want to bet, good nephew, if we don't collect money tomorrow, the Pink Pig will be shut down the day after.”

“I believe that. What do you think of that Painted Warrior?”

“Ha, how many years has it been since I heard that term? I remember when I was a child, I could still see those warriors covered in runes in the castle. But now…”

The Sheriff paused, “Most of those warriors died in the war with the Falcon Family.”

Arthur placed the paper with the runes on the dining table.

The Sheriff merely glanced at it. “Is that from the Painted Warrior?”

After receiving an affirmative answer, she continued, “I only know the general meaning of these symbols, but I can't determine which tribe he belongs to.”

“However, I know a few tribal chiefs who are still alive; I will send someone to ask.”

“Alright, let's talk about serious matters. Why did you tell me about the Black Hand Gang's smuggling?”

The Black Hand Gang and the Sheriff's office colluding was nothing new in Wolf Den City.

Although the black market was illegal and affected the local economy, after many years of operation, Wolf Den City's black market was already deeply entrenched.

It would be extremely difficult to eradicate it in a short period, and a slight misstep could lead to chaos, or even riots, among the lower classes.

At that point, it wouldn't just be a matter of economic damage.

Therefore, successive Sheriffs chose to cooperate with various forces in the black market, secretly supporting a gang to maintain order.

Currently, this gang is the Black Hand Gang.

“Don't you find it strange?” Arthur asked, “Smuggling drugs with almost no profit.”

The Sheriff shrugged, “I'm not interested in economics; you should go talk to the mayor.”

“Aunt, now someone wants to blow us all sky high. Can you stop playing these games?”

“I know the Little Finger Merchant Guild is behind the Black Hand Gang. But this is the Evil Wolf Family's territory after all; there's no harm in investigating these people.”

The Sheriff made a shushing gesture and beckoned Arthur closer.

As Arthur leaned in, he smelled onions on her breath.

“Do you know the Zhentarim? It's a…”

“I know,” Arthur replied.

The Sheriff's face was full of astonishment; she didn't expect this nephew to know such a secretive organization.

The previous Arthur would naturally not have known about the Zhentarim.

In fact, its public name was the Dark Intelligence Network; Zhentarim was the name used by insiders.

This organization initially started as a merchant alliance, then gradually grew stronger.

Its members also became a mixed bag, including assassins, spies, soldiers, and even followers of the Bane Church.

Now, their influence has spread throughout Faerûn, firmly rooted in the western and southern parts of Faerûn.

“How did you…” The Sheriff waved her hand, no longer dwelling on it. “Anyway, the Little Finger Merchant Guild has its shadow behind it.”

“The high-ranking members of the Noble Alliance back then also suspected that the Zhentarim secretly instigated the civil war.”

“It's just that there wasn't enough evidence to prove it. Look around, tell me what you see?”

Arthur looked around and quickly replied, “Everyone eating here is a new recruit.”

The Sheriff approved, “Very good, little nephew, I'm truly impressed with you.”

“That's right, they're all fresh recruits. Do you think these people alone can suppress riots and rebellions?”

At first, Arthur didn't understand his aunt's words, but after careful consideration, he understood.

The usually impatient Adelaide did not rush Arthur, but gave her little nephew ample time.

During their interactions over this period, she increasingly felt that this nephew, once considered the family's disgrace, seemed to have grown significantly.

“They want to establish a new king,” Arthur said deeply, “After a series of chaos, the earldom needs a new leader to restore order.”

“But it won't be my elder brother Robert, because he is deeply embroiled in the war with the orcs.”

The Sheriff nodded, “Yes, otherwise, why would these guys go to such great lengths to do so many things? Just to blow us up?”

“They not only want to establish a new king but also want to exacerbate the division among the eastern nobles, thereby weakening the power of the old nobility.”

“You have to understand, Arthur, it's not just us investigating this; our allies are also investigating.”

“So, if we are to take action against the Black Hand Gang at this time, we must do it flawlessly, lest we invite trouble. Do you understand what I mean?”

Arthur nodded.

His aunt's meaning was clear: this conspiracy involved multiple forces, and a slight misstep could trigger a chain reaction, so it had to be handled carefully.

“You mentioned rebellion and riots.” Arthur took out a gold ring and discreetly handed it to his aunt. “There's a box of Chult artifacts on the Barracuda; this is one of them.”

“I originally thought it was just ordinary artifact smuggling, but now that I think about it, these valuable artifacts are likely funding certain operations.”

Adelaide took the ring and rubbed it in her hand. “If what you say is true, then we might be close to finding the truth.”

She grabbed her cup, took a large gulp, and continued, “Robert must have told you that he couldn't confirm the bandits outside the city were connected to other families, right?”

Without waiting for Arthur to answer, she continued on her own, “I love my brothers, but sometimes I wish I could strangle them.”

“Robert has a way of managing the army, but he really doesn't have much political sense.”

“I agree with you; I believe those bandits are not ordinary marauders; they have another purpose.”

At this point, the Sheriff took out a letter and handed it to Arthur along with the gold ring.

“There's an abandoned outpost near Old Charen Town, where a small mercenary group is currently stationed.”

“The mercenary captain owes me a favor; if anything unexpected happens, go find him, he will help you.”

Arthur took the letter and the ring, said thank you, and then said, “I have a plan that might help, but it requires your assistance.”

“Oh? Tell me.”