Chapter 33: Rules

Chapter 33: Rules

The delegation official temporarily appointed as tax collector by Bran stood at the gate of Bran Manor with two young Knights. Behind them was a line of carts carrying the physical tax payments and confiscated goods, waiting for the handover.

Seeing Danny emerge from the gate carrying Bran, he felt both fear and annoyance. By now, Bran should be about ten years old. While he appeared small and thin compared to children from the Northlands, that was only in comparison to Northlanders. If placed elsewhere, his size would be acceptable.

Bran did not want to be carried like this, but it made it easier for him to direct Danny’s questions. He felt that sometimes the identity of an idiot was quite good; it allowed him to observe the nature of the people around him more clearly.

“Your name,” Danny said.

“Robert Stert,” the man replied inwardly cursing, only asking for my name now?

“Luo Bo, is this the tax you collected?”

“No, it’s the tax and the confiscated goods.” Outwardly respectful, he grumbled inside, ‘Luo Bo, just Luo Bo. I won’t argue with an illiterate barbarian.’

“All of it?”

“Yes, it’s all here.” Robert Stert began to sweat on his forehead.

“It seems you think we Northlanders can’t count?”

“Please, let me explain. There were some losses due to yesterday’s chaos, so this really is everything.”

“In past years, the Northlands have been too tolerant of you. Do you want to know how theft is punished in the Northlands?”

“Theft? What did we steal?” Robert Stert’s mind struggled to catch up. How did tax collection turn into punishment for theft?

“Drop your little schemes. Go back and have your merchants re-check their goods. Before sunset, bring what belongs to us.” Having said that, Danny turned and left.

…

Walking around the screen wall and setting Bran down, Danny said, “I didn’t see anything wrong.”

“Different goods have different values. Although these scoundrels didn’t bring anything good, just some shoddy stuff to swindle the Northlands, there are always differences in quality.” Bran grinned. “Also, these bastards paid their taxes a bit too quickly. In this situation, it never hurts to shake the tree a couple of times, whether there are dates or not.”

“If we had just taken everything yesterday, we wouldn’t have this trouble today.”

“…One should leave some leeway when dealing with people. And how was I supposed to know we were that fierce? I was a bit scared after what happened yesterday, okay?” Bran gestured with his hands, imitating Danny’s movements. “Didn’t expect these bastards to have such short memories, daring to try tricks with us right after.”

Thinking about it, Bran looked at Danny and asked, “If someone calls you stupid, what do you do?”

“Hit them.”

“Tell Gazi that the caravan people say we Northlanders are stupid and easy to cheat.”

…

Not long after, Robert Stert, bruised and swollen, ran to the manor gate seeking an audience, demanding that Bran quickly stop the fighting over there.

Danny stood at the manor gate, looking down at the bruised man, and replied casually, “A fight? Just get a few people to pull them apart. What’s the big deal?”

“We can’t pull them apart!”

“What are they fighting about?”

“This…” Robert Stert wasn’t sure how to say it. If words like ‘Northlanders are stupid’ came from his mouth, he’d probably get beaten again.

“Clearly, you people think we Northlanders are simple and easy to bully.”

“No, who would dare?”

“Never mind these minor issues. The requirement for the caravan: have they written down their types of goods and sorted out the grades clearly?”

“…Not all of them are done yet.”

“Go back and make it clear. If they want to come again in the future, bring less of that ragged cloth and bring some decent stuff. We’ll let it slide this time.”

Robert Stert stood at the gate, watching the retreating back of Danny carrying Bran, before it dawned on him. I came here to get you to stop the fight, and you give me this pointed lecture? What kind of thing is this? And that Northlands pricing thing you’re setting up, what kind of nonsense is that!?

…

Whether willing or not, under their roof, the matter ultimately had to be handled according to the demands of these Northlanders. Although they seemed to have proposed some Rules, which greatly affected profits, it just reduced the profit from thousands of percent to a thousand percent. The merchants cursed in pain while privately mocking the stupidity of the Northlanders in various ways.

That’s just how it was; the backward ones were bound to be taken advantage of. It wasn’t that the caravan had no good items, but those were prepared for trading for Northlands iron and horses. Unique Northlands smelted metals like Snowflake Steel and Cold Iron were very scarce outside, and finished Northlands weapons simply did not leave the Northlands.

Bran often thought about it. We Northlanders might seem careless, but they also had their cautious side. The horses and metals of the Northlands were guarded so strictly by the Northlanders. How did such a vast region, with the Northlanders’ carefree and disorderly nature, manage this? All Northlanders could be considered half blacksmiths. They passed down their martial skills and blacksmithing techniques from generation to generation, constantly developing them. Even if a small group had ideas, these things could not be held on to.

…

Gazi was a good guy, at least the market was orderly under his leadership and care. Although he seemed a bit simple, the fact that he could always find someone to take the blame and always find ways to cheat and loaf showed he was a crafty fellow. It’s just that in the big environment of the Northlands, he felt somewhat wronged. Just from this recent beating incident, many people were hit, but no one was killed or crippled, showing he had great restraint. With such a personality, how many beatings must he have gotten as a child? He wasn’t like Bran putting on an Idiot act. Northlanders could look down on the weak, but would never stoop to bullying them; that was beneath their dignity. But for those who played tricks, they were absolutely the favorite targets of Northlander kids—everyone hit them, and often it was a group beating…

“Tell me, how many families gave you gifts today?” Bran asked, looking at Gazi before him.

“They weren’t gifts; they said it was a tribute.”

“Life has been better lately, no one’s been beating you, right?”

“That’s…”

“You distributed all the stuff, didn’t keep more for yourself?”

This question angered Gazi. His neck thickened instantly. “Nonsense! How could I…”

Then a slap from Danny standing beside him cut off the rest of his words…

Facing Gazi’s expression that screamed ‘if there weren’t people watching, I’d beat you to death, you little brat,’ Bran said, “Sorry. Go check with you, or your father, or your uncle, see if there’s any good steel or iron. Bring a couple of pieces over. Your axe is a bit old; I’ll make you a new one.”

Then Gazi instantly had a look of ‘we’re brothers, who cares about the rest?’ Other things were trivial, and he happily ran off to find some iron.