Chapter 130: The Arson Attack

Perias’s water supply normalized in less than a month.

A massive sand filtration bed was created at the treatment plant, and crystal-clear water, free of any debris, flowed through the pipes.

The porcelain pipes buried inside the aqueduct were Adam’s work.

Porcelain might seem prone to breaking?

But the risk of damage was low.

Made thick, durability multiplied several times.

Plus, completely sealed from outside, no chance of water contamination.

Before, exposed pipes let rainwater in, turning it to filth.

“Now water and sewer done.”

I approached the massive pit south of Perias.

This was the trash disposal site, doubling as recycling facility.

Of course, not sorted diversely like modern Korea.

Just separate metals, bury rest.

Metal can be melted and reused.

“How much processing capacity?”

“Y-Your Grace……. No, Mayor! What brings you here?”

Approaching and speaking suddenly, the site manager looked shocked.

Must not expect me to come out here.

To ensure policies don’t fizzle, must check personally.

Very natural, but few leaders do properly.

They think orders alone work. Flatterers blind them.

I lightly gestured around.

Don’t mind, keep working.

Then stared at site manager.

“Ah, yes. Capacity? About over 80 tons daily.”

“How long till this site maxes out?”

“Probably a year easy. Pit’s huge.”

“When full, report immediately. Dig new one below.”

“Yes!”

Trash pit also Adam and Shugl’s joint work.

Much smoother this time.

Just dig straight down.

Land so vast, can handle this way.

Korea couldn’t dream.

Scant land for dumps.

“How’s collection? People complying?”

“Ah, yes. Of course. They stack on carts themselves. Dumping anywhere dropped sharply.”

With dump sites, tightened enforcement—initially hundreds caught.

Heavy fines, effect immediate.

“Good. Maintain like this.”

“Will give my all!”

“Not to death. Just responsibly, no injuries.”

“Yes?”

Site manager momentarily puzzled.

I promoted most passionate among mass-hired sanitation workers to manager.

So Harvey from slums rose.

Naturally, bureaucrats’ gazes unkind.

Lowly background or whatever.

If does job well, fine. Who cares.

Naturally, no effect on me.

Lived oppressed by status, Harvey looked moved.

“Then, good work.”

Lightly patted shoulder, turned—sniffling from behind.

“Sniff! Will work even harder, Mayor!”

“Said don’t overdo.”

I smiled faintly, left trash site.

Next stop fire headquarters.

Glad to meet. Well?

“Mayor thanks, shoulders high at home lately. Gave paycheck, wife’s nagging cut sharp.”

Patton’s words just banter.

Never starving anyway.

Just expressing joy at righteous work that way.

Age softened stiffness?

Could see.

No more frosty field officer vibe.

But critical moment, he’d act on principle.

“No fires yet?”

“Yes.”

“How shifts work?”

“Watch teams 4 squads, 2 shifts, 24-hour towers.”

“Comm with field?”

“Urgent/simple flags, detailed messengers. Night cover/uncover lights signals.”

Fire HQ month-old org.

Trained much, but lacks real experience.

But Patton’s zeal eyes, seemed handle any.

“Link well with Aramid Order. Clerics dispatched to scenes save more.”

“Yes, Mayor.”

“I’ll go.”

“Not even tea?”

“How hold busy you? Just work hard—enough for me.”

“Classic Mayor answer. Devote self, crush all fires. Hahaha!”

Boisterous laughing Nashvil Patton Viscount.

I smiled faintly too.

Picked good one.

After fire HQ, little to do.

“No trials so nice. No headaches.”

—Why not quit Chief Justice, just mayor?

Shugl’s words, pondered seriously.

But soon shook head.

“No. If other takes seat, who knows mess.”

Like Delriat.

Absent months, back to old ways.

Unmanaged, like alley diner villains.

“Rest bit. Worked too much lately.”

Sun not set, but mind only off-duty.

Opened window, flopped bed—sudden fire station near workshop district caught eye.

Installed first ’cause my house key, but will use?

Went ahead, brought ten pump wagons.

Bit overkill.

For this area/pop density, three-four enough.

“But better prepared, no harm.”

Disasters unpredictable when/how.

Soon skipped dinner, deep sleep.

Not time—my sixth age…….!!

“Matchmaking Carius? Useless.”

“Why? Daughter so pretty.”

“Tried. Won’t take requests.”

Not that. Sixth how old…….!!

As said, no better groom than Abel Carius.

Troops-wise, less than other dukes true.

But Abel most emperor-favored.

Plus amassing immense wealth via Dapan Group lately.

Though gives much away.

This perception surged, imperial politics moved.

“Long time.”

“Since Skyler incident first?”

“Start with jabs? Act per purpose.”

“Sorry. No malice. Just recalled then.”

Awkward smiling Diandre Giovanni Duke.

While Planger Sierre Duke frowned unpleasantly.

Skyler got 40 years prison.

Sierre Duchy succession twisted.

Second on all bastards.

Fail proper heir, faction standing shakes.

Plus Midias district devastating both duchies.

“That solid soap—nobles not buying liquid. Just better scent, all flock—can’t understand.”

“We crushed in textiles, paper, livestock.”

“Plus now water/sewer, trash handling. His fame too high.”

“Need vigilance. Not just commoners, gaining noble popularity too.”

“That’s issue. Fear sky-change talk. Earlier new sect rumors.”

Sierre subtly mentioned treason.

Most effective against any noble.

But Giovanni slowly shook head.

“Won’t mean much that way.”

“Yeah, last time too.”

State council, Marquis Gilmore mentioned treason possibility, backfired.

Emperor ordered keep troops below Carius level.

Though quickly retracted, nobles remembered that terror clearly.

After exchanging opinions awhile, two dukes clutched heads.

Multi-angle plots, but no sharp ideas.

Then Sierre lifted head with chilling eyes.

“Back to basics.”

“How?”

“What’s most lacking in Carius Duchy now?”

“Troops obviously. That sly guy’s avoiding emperor suspicion……. Oh?”

Giovanni eyes sparkled interested.

Just question, myriad attacks flashed.

After all, power intrigue veterans.

How much endured to reach seats.

Only 30 patrol squads, 30 guard knights.

Even average barony more troops.

“But Carius defense decent. Midias factories walled.”

“Still security woefully short. What stop field/factory arson?”

“How about rumor divine punishment for overstepping gods?”

“Hehehe! Talks flow well. Plan covertly.”

“No need our troops—just arson. Perfect use underworld.”

Two dukes excitedly whispered, plotting.

Days later, dead of night.

Subtle movements near Carius Duchy and Midias.

Dozens masked figures appeared.

Like assassins, silently evaded surveillance.

Soon flames rose simultaneously in Carius wheat/vineyards, Midias factories.

Whoosh!

“F-Fire!”

“Fire in wheat fields!”

“Factory too!”

People running everywhere.

Arsonists eyed each other, signaled quick.

Success, retreat fast.

But couldn’t go far.

Sudden man appeared.

“What? These thieves.”

Imperial Guard Black Agent, Cordell McNeil.

“Surprising.”

Quite unexpected.

Captured all dozens arson fleeing.

Of course, not impossible.

Culprits civilians, Cordell aura knight.

Plus assassination-trained black agent.

That much easy.

Key: why they arson.

“Want interrogate personally, but against law—so to security.”

“You sure? No other words?”

“What more here?”

“You know, well done, good job……. Heh!”

Ah! Praise-hungry?

Honestly, lip service few times no big.

I nodded gladly, about open mouth.

But suddenly thought.

“Ah, Sir McNeil.”

“Yes?”

“But why there that time?”

Typical escort knight more vigilant night.

Terrifying like assassination usually nocturnal.

Cordell McNeil shrugged, answered.

“Party over, heading back—ran into.”

“…”

Praise or curse?

I’m not needing escort much.

Plus, mood off.

This guy always seems playing.

“No good. Tell Majesty, change escort.”

“Whaa! Please not that. Don’t wanna lose sweet spot!”

No.

Won’t change.

Go back.<|control12|>Chapter 130: The Arson Attack

Perias’s water supply normalized in less than a month.

A massive sand filtration bed was created at the treatment plant, and crystal-clear water, free of any debris, flowed through the pipes.

The porcelain pipes buried inside the aqueduct were Adam’s work.

Porcelain might seem prone to breaking?

But the risk of damage was low.

Made thick, durability multiplied several times.

Plus, completely sealed from outside, no chance of water contamination.

Before, exposed pipes let rainwater in, turning it to filth.

“Now water and sewer done.”

I approached the massive pit south of Perias.

This was the trash disposal site, doubling as recycling facility.

Of course, not sorted diversely like modern Korea.

Just separate metals, bury rest.

Metal can be melted and reused.

“How much processing capacity?”

“Y-Your Grace……. No, Mayor! What brings you here?”

Approaching and speaking suddenly, the site manager looked shocked.

Must not expect me to come out here.

To ensure policies don’t fizzle, must check personally.

Very natural, but few leaders do properly.

They think orders alone work. Flatterers blind them.

I lightly gestured around.

Don’t mind, keep working.

Then stared at site manager.

“Ah, yes. Capacity? About over 80 tons daily.”

“How long till this site maxes out?”

“Probably a year easy. Pit’s huge.”

“When full, report immediately. Dig new one below.”

“Yes!”

Trash pit also Adam and Shugl’s joint work.

Much smoother this time.

Just dig straight down.

Land so vast, can handle this way.

Korea couldn’t dream.

Scant land for dumps.

“How’s collection? People complying?”

“Ah, yes. Of course. They stack on carts themselves. Dumping anywhere dropped sharply.”

With dump sites, tightened enforcement—initially hundreds caught.

Heavy fines, effect immediate.

“Good. Maintain like this.”

“Will give my all!”

“Not to death. Just responsibly, no injuries.”

“Yes?”

Site manager momentarily puzzled.

I promoted most passionate among mass-hired sanitation workers to manager.

So Harvey from slums rose.

Naturally, bureaucrats’ gazes unkind.

Lowly background or whatever.

If does job well, fine. Who cares.

Naturally, no effect on me.

Lived oppressed by status, Harvey looked moved.

“Then, good work.”

Lightly patted shoulder, turned—sniffling from behind.

“Sniff! Will work even harder, Mayor!”

“Said don’t overdo.”

I smiled faintly, left trash site.

Next stop fire headquarters.

Glad to meet. Well?

“Mayor thanks, shoulders high at home lately. Gave paycheck, wife’s nagging cut sharp.”

Patton’s words just banter.

Never starving anyway.

Just expressing joy at righteous work that way.

Age softened stiffness?

Could see.

No more frosty field officer vibe.

But critical moment, he’d act on principle.

“No fires yet?”

“Yes.”

“How shifts work?”

“Watch teams 4 squads, 2 shifts, 24-hour towers.”

“Comm with field?”

“Urgent/simple flags, detailed messengers. Night cover/uncover lights signals.”

Fire HQ month-old org.

Trained much, but lacks real experience.

But Patton’s zeal eyes, seemed handle any.

“Link well with Aramid Order. Clerics dispatched to scenes save more.”

“Yes, Mayor.”

“I’ll go.”

“Not even tea?”

“How hold busy you? Just work hard—enough for me.”

“Classic Mayor answer. Devote self, crush all fires. Hahaha!”

Boisterous laughing Nashvil Patton Viscount.

I smiled faintly too.

Picked good one.

After fire HQ, little to do.

“No trials so nice. No headaches.”

—Why not quit Chief Justice, just mayor?

Shugl’s words, pondered seriously.

But soon shook head.

“No. If other takes seat, who knows mess.”

Like Delriat.

Absent months, back to old ways.

Unmanaged, like alley diner villains.

“Rest bit. Worked too much lately.”

Sun not set, but mind only off-duty.

Opened window, flopped bed—sudden fire station near workshop district caught eye.

Installed first ’cause my house key, but will use?

Went ahead, brought ten pump wagons.

Bit overkill.

For this area/pop density, three-four enough.

“But better prepared, no harm.”

Disasters unpredictable when/how.

Soon skipped dinner, deep sleep.

Not time—my sixth age…….!!

“Matchmaking Carius? Useless.”

“Why? Daughter so pretty.”

“Tried. Won’t take requests.”

As said, no better groom than Abel Carius.

Troops-wise, less than other dukes true.

But Abel most emperor-favored.

Plus amassing immense wealth via Dapan Group lately.

Though gives much away.

This perception surged, imperial politics moved.

“Long time.”

“Since Skyler incident first?”

“Start with jabs? Act per purpose.”

“Sorry. No malice. Just recalled then.”

Awkward smiling Diandre Giovanni Duke.

While Planger Sierre Duke frowned unpleasantly.

Skyler got 40 years prison.

Sierre Duchy succession twisted.

Second on all bastards.

Fail proper heir, faction standing shakes.

Plus Midias district devastating both duchies.

“That solid soap—nobles not buying liquid. Just better scent, all flock—can’t understand.”

“We crushed in textiles, paper, livestock.”

“Plus now water/sewer, trash handling. His fame too high.”

“Need vigilance. Not just commoners, gaining noble popularity too.”

“That’s issue. Fear sky-change talk. Earlier new sect rumors.”

Sierre subtly mentioned treason.

Most effective against any noble.

But Giovanni slowly shook head.

“Won’t mean much that way.”

“Yeah, last time too.”

State council, Marquis Gilmore mentioned treason possibility, backfired.

Emperor ordered keep troops below Carius level.

Though quickly retracted, nobles remembered that terror clearly.

After exchanging opinions awhile, two dukes clutched heads.

Multi-angle plots, but no sharp ideas.

Then Sierre lifted head with chilling eyes.

“Back to basics.”

“How?”

“What’s most lacking in Carius Duchy now?”

“Troops obviously. That sly guy’s avoiding emperor suspicion……. Oh?”

Giovanni eyes sparkled interested.

Just question, myriad attacks flashed.

After all, power intrigue veterans.

How much endured to reach seats.

Only 30 patrol squads, 30 guard knights.

Even average barony more troops.

“But Carius defense decent. Midias factories walled.”

“Still security woefully short. What stop field/factory arson?”

“How about rumor divine punishment for overstepping gods?”

“Hehehe! Talks flow well. Plan covertly.”

“No need our troops—just arson. Perfect use underworld.”

Two dukes excitedly whispered, plotting.

Days later, dead of night.

Subtle movements near Carius Duchy and Midias.

Dozens masked, hooded figures appeared suddenly.

Like assassins, no sound, evaded nets.

Soon fires rose in Carius fields/vineyards, Midias factories simultaneously.

Whoosh!

“F-Fire!”

“Fire in wheat fields!”

“Factory too!”

People running everywhere.

Arsonists eyed each other, signaled quick.

Success, retreat fast.

But couldn’t go far.

Sudden man appeared.

“What? These thieves.”

Imperial Guard Black Agent, Cordell McNeil.

“Surprising.”

Quite unexpected.

Captured all dozens arson fleeing.

Of course, not impossible.

Culprits civilians, Cordell aura knight.

Plus assassination-trained black agent.

That much easy.

Key: why they arson.

“Want interrogate personally, but against law—so to security.”

“You sure? No other words?”

“What more here?”

“You know, well done, good job……. Heh!”

Ah! Praise-hungry?

Honestly, lip service few times no big.

I nodded gladly, about open mouth.

But suddenly thought.

“Ah, Sir McNeil.”

“Yes?”

“But why there that time?”

Typical escort knight more vigilant night.

Terrifying like assassination usually nocturnal.

Cordell McNeil shrugged, answered.

“Party over, heading back—ran into.”

“…”

Praise or curse?

I’m not needing escort much.

Plus, mood off.

This guy always seems playing.

“No good. Tell Majesty, change escort.”

“Whaa! Please not that. Don’t wanna lose sweet spot!”

No.

Won’t change.

Go back.