Steel, Explosives, and Spellcasters

But what he was holding in his hand was clearly a blank sheet of paper.

Field dipped his hand into a basin of water and explained unhurriedly to his two subordinates, "Some people who shun the light of day use invisible means to write content that can't stand the light of day. This technique is called secret writing. In fact, it's simply using alum water as ink, which turns the paper back to white when it dries. Only by applying water can the writing appear."

He spread the water evenly over the blank sheet, but nothing appeared on the paper.

Major Moritz coughed awkwardly.

Field, however, didn't seem the least bit embarrassed and said with interest, "Oh, they've improved the technique? That's interesting."

The lieutenant colonel held up a sheet of paper to the light and said with certainty, "Secret writing is just like a riddle; the party meant to read it only needs to know the solution, and the process of retrieving the information should not be difficult. The usual methods involve nothing more than water or fire. If not water, then fire, perhaps?"

As he spoke, the lieutenant colonel took a sheet of paper and held it near a torch to heat it. After more than a dozen seconds, rows of pale yellow writing really appeared on the white paper.

"I thought it was some novel trick, but it turns out to be the same old trick of lemon juice mixed with ink," the lieutenant colonel said, his tone filled with disappointment as if a toy he had enjoyed was broken.

The creaking sound of a wooden axle turning arose, and suddenly, a hidden door appeared on the wall.

Winters instinctively drew his weapon, for he had not noticed the hidden door in the wall at all. The designer had cleverly concealed the door's seams using the uneven surface of the mud wall, which would likely require one to feel along the wall inch by inch in the dim underground light to find it.

An indignant voice came from behind the hidden door, "That's not a ledger, just a few receipts. Besides the secret writing, I also used encryption. Just unlocking the secret writing won't reveal what's written."

A bald grey-robed man limped out from the door. Winters had expected that the leader of those thugs would be a fierce and terrible figure, but this grey-robed man looked just like an ordinary person, even thinner than most.

He must not see the sunlight very often, as his skin was an unhealthy shade of white. But he had a set of neat teeth, uncommon among the lower classes. His hair and beard were well-groomed, and though his robe was made of unremarkable cloth, it was clean. Despite being underground, there was not a speck of dirt under his nails.

And his baldness did not seem natural, but rather as if it had been shaved intentionally into a pattern resembling male pattern baldness.

The grey-robed man gave Winters a feeling that matched his perception of the room. Had he encountered this person on the street, Winters might have thought him a cleric from the public church.

Field gestured with his eyes for Winters to sheathe his sword and waved the stack of papers at the grey-robed man, "So, do you want to see if I can crack your code?"

The grey-robed man limped over to Field, snatched the stack of white papers aggressively from the lieutenant colonel's hands, and tucked them into his chest. He didn't seem the least aware that his men had just been wiped out.

Dragging his leg, he sat back on the bed and said impatiently, "If you have something to ask, just send someone to pass on a message. Is it necessary to make such an ordeal every time? Do you think it's easy for me to gather such scum?"

"I sent someone because I fear I wouldn't get clear answers," Lieutenant Colonel Field replied with a smile.

"If you've got questions, ask them quick and then get out." The grey-robed man's grammar was polite, but his tone was extremely impatient.

Lieutenant Colonel Field dragged over a stool and sat in front of the grey-robed man, "The explosion at the docks has the whole city talking. Don't tell me you haven't heard a thing."

"You came to me just to inquire about this?"

"Yes."

"I really don't know much about this matter," the grey-robed man said, frowning. "I only know that someone on the black market ordered a batch of spring-loaded guns from the north, specifying that they needed to be short-barreled guns that can be used with one hand. Spring-loaded guns are rare goods. When I heard someone was buying them, especially short-barreled ones, I knew that probably another big shot was in trouble, so it left an impression on me."

"Someone was buying spring-loaded guns made in The Federated Provinces?"

"Yes, they specifically wanted ones crafted by artisans of The Federated Provinces, urgently, and they were willing to pay a high price for it."

"Is it possible to find out who the buyer was?"

The grey-robed man grinned silently and gave a cynical laugh, "What do you think? Why do you think they come to the black market to buy these things?"

"Then who was the seller?"

The grey-robed man snorted, "Aren't you asking the obvious? Subterranean Street is not my back garden. I am just running a small business here. It wasn't me selling. Even if you find out, it's useless; in this place, the seller wouldn't know who the buyer is."

The man spoke brusquely, but the lieutenant colonel was not angered. Resting his chin on his hand, he asked, "Any other useful news?"

The grey-robed man thought for a moment, then looked up and replied, "Nothing else, at least not that I know of."

Winters couldn't tell whether the grey-robed man was telling the truth or lying, but Lieutenant Colonel Field appeared to have no doubts.

"Then do me another favor and keep your ears open for any news or movements, and inform me promptly," Field stood up, clearly ready to take his leave.

"Please, don't come here in person next time. Just send someone to pass on the message," said the grey-robed man with a wry smile.

————CUT————

An hour later, Major Moritz's living room.