Chapter 15 Reward Money

Deng calmed himself and walked towards the two constables at the door.

His conscience was clear—after all, he hadn't caused any trouble or clashed with the authorities. Captain Duncan might be notorious, but what did an honest antique shop owner like him have to do with the mobile calamity of the Boundless Sea?

Come to think of it, his most suspicious activity was attending a cult gathering—and he had enthusiastically reported it afterwards!

Wait…report?

The thought suddenly struck Duncan, and he vaguely guessed the reason for the constables' visit. His steps forward became more confident. Nina, however, didn't share his composure. Seeing her uncle come downstairs, she hurried to meet him, whispering urgently where the constables couldn't see: "Uncle, when the constables ask questions, you must tell the truth…"

Duncan stumbled, looking strangely at his "niece": "Is that really how you see me?"

Nina looked aggrieved at her "uncle," whose reputation wasn't great and who was frequently visited because of drunkenness or gambling brawls: "…Otherwise, why else would the constables come looking for you?"

Duncan: "…"

He sighed helplessly, walked to the shop door, and gave the two constables in dark blue uniforms a bright smile: "Good morning, gentlemen. What can I do for you?"

"Mr. Duncan Straine," the older of the two constables began, speaking politely and officially, "We found this place according to the registered address—the clues you reported to the patrol officers yesterday have been verified. On behalf of the City Hall, we thank you for your contribution to maintaining the city-state's order and bring you a reward."

As he finished speaking, the younger constable stepped forward and handed over a rather thick paper packet.

Nina, standing to one side, stared wide-eyed.

Duncan had already guessed the constables' purpose, figuring it was about his report on the cultist hideout, but he didn't expect them to deliver the reward directly. He took the packet, somewhat surprised, and saw the words "435 Solas" on the disposable wax seal—a very generous sum for the residents of the lower city.

"So there's money to be made…" Duncan squeezed the packet, feeling the thickness of the bills. "I didn't think that far ahead at the time."

"Of course, there's a bounty—the Consul is extremely concerned with cracking down on criminal activity within the city-state, especially recently. All effective reports will receive tangible and generous rewards," the younger constable smiled. "Especially since the information you provided…was quite significant."

Hearing this, Duncan's heart stirred. He casually asked, "By the way, I heard some strange noises over there, but I didn't dare go over to take a closer look… What exactly happened?"

The two constables exchanged a look, then stepped into the shop. Nina, seeing this, was stunned for a moment, then quickly went to close the door.

"We didn't go to the scene ourselves. The Guardians are handling it, but according to the news…the situation was horrific," the younger constable said, not yet fully adopting the veteran's official tone. "You were right not to approach rashly and to immediately find a patrol officer to report it. Otherwise, you would certainly have been in danger."

As the young man finished speaking, the other constable added, "Ordinary citizens don't need to know the details. We just want to remind you—cult activity in the city has been increasing recently. Don't mention your reporting and reward to outsiders."

Duncan paused, then quickly understood.

This was the lower city, where sewage and toxic fumes converged, and the most unsavory things in Pland were hidden in these dilapidated, winding alleys. When heretical cults stirred, they were bound to hide in such places.

Although the street where the antique shop was located was considered relatively decent for the lower city, some distance from the poorest slums, the entire lower city was essentially the same from the perspective of harboring filth.

Moreover, even without considering the possibility of cultists among the ordinary people of the lower city, a person who "reported to the authorities and received a reward" was likely to be viewed with suspicion.

The constables, familiar with the local situation, knew this, of course. This was a routine reminder, and genuinely well-intentioned.

Duncan thought about it and agreed with their advice.

This place was indeed prone to cultists—he still had that sun badge in his pocket.

"Thank you for the reminder," he said sincerely. Although he didn't know the average level of most constables here, at least these two gave him a good impression. "Would you like to rest here for a bit?"

"No need," the older constable waved his hand, turning to walk towards the door. "We have patrol duties."

The younger constable turned back before leaving: "If you encounter any more clues in the future, please report them promptly—the safety of the city-state affects us all."

"Of course," Duncan squeezed the paper packet in his hand, a genuine smile on his face. "I've always been a good citizen concerned with the order of the city-state."

The two constables left the antique shop of "enthusiastic citizen Mr. Duncan," and it wasn't until the two uniformed figures disappeared down the street that Nina finally seemed to come to her senses, looking at her uncle—Duncan was opening the paper packet, counting the blue and green bills inside. The pleasant sound of the bills rustling gradually made her feel real: "Uncle…is this really a reward from the City Hall? Did you really…"

The girl opened her mouth for a long time but couldn't bring herself to ask, "Did you really do something good?"

Duncan knew what Nina was thinking, and what she was wondering. He laughed: "I just reported some illegal activities on the way home yesterday—Uncle has always been enthusiastic about public welfare."

Nina: "…"

"But the high reward is quite a surprise," Duncan said, looking thoughtfully at the bills in his hand, muttering softly, "This is faster money than doing business…"

There was another sentence he didn't say: according to the information he had, there were still countless cultists from various city-states hidden in the city.

That's all money!

Nina didn't react for a moment: "What did you say, Uncle?"

"Nothing," Duncan waved his hand, casually saying as he pondered this new way to make money, "Aren't you supposed to be going to school? Leave early so you're not late—by the way, when is Mr. Morris coming for a home visit?"

"In the afternoon, I only have one class in the afternoon," Nina said, as if she had thought of something. "Are you going out today, Uncle?"

Duncan nodded: "Yeah, going out for a bit, but I'll be back before your history teacher arrives."

Hearing this, Nina gave him a suspicious look: "What are you going to do, Uncle?"

Duncan smiled particularly brightly: "Uncle is going out hunting."

He already had an idea. Since the sun badge was so effective and the authorities were so generous with money, there was no reason not to use this method—after all, even without the "report and get paid" factor, he would have to find trouble with the cultists to ensure the stability of his surroundings. Now that he was sure he could get paid again after causing them trouble, why not?

Nina was a clever girl. Even if she didn't know all of Duncan's secrets, she immediately guessed what her uncle meant by "hunting." The girl's delicate eyebrows furrowed: "…Uncle, that's not right. Yesterday you said you were going to open the shop properly, and you said you were going to reorganize the shop and hire employees…"

"Caring about the city-state's security doesn't contradict opening the shop properly," Duncan waved his hand. "Go to school. Uncle knows what he's doing."

Unexpectedly, Nina sat down in a chair next to him.

"Nina?"

"Uncle, it's dangerous." Nina looked up, her eyes fixed on Duncan.

Duncan: "Uh…actually…"

"I want to watch you," Nina stubbornly sat there. "Those two constables said that the city-state isn't safe recently… It's one thing to encounter something accidentally, but how can you actively seek out those dangers?"

Duncan looked at the seventeen-year-old girl in a daze.

He suddenly realized that she was really worried about him—caring for "Uncle Duncan, who had been seriously ill for many years, was physically weak, acted rashly, and recently desperately wanted to make money" in a stubborn way that she thought was right and safe.

"I don't want a bicycle." Nina muttered softly, looking down.

"Go to school." Duncan suddenly sighed, smiling as he stepped forward and patted Nina's head.

Nina looked up in surprise.

"You're right, it's dangerous," Duncan said seriously, looking at Nina. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait for you to come back at the shop."