Chapter 1403 - 1368: Returning to the Castle

When Stuart was mentioned, Lann fell silent for a moment before heaving a sigh.

"You don’t need to remind me openly or subtly, Lincoln. I’ve already agreed with you all."

"You always keep your word, there’s no doubt from us." The young secretary’s face was solemn, "But Stuart... he’s becoming increasingly troubled by his own disabled body. And we can only watch, anxious but helpless."

Lann nodded, indicating understanding: "Post-traumatic stress disorder, and the sensitivity of feeling inferior after a disability."

"Especially when you all are progressing, but he can only watch helplessly as he’s left behind."

Stuart’s psychological issues are common among many disabled individuals.

It’s just that being in the fast-progressing military group of the Embers Knight Order, the psychological pressure he endures is undoubtedly greater and more urgent than that of ordinary disabled people.

"Therefore, I will fulfill the promise I made to you all." Lann took a deep breath, took a wooden box from the alchemy pouch, and handed it to Lincoln.

The young secretary was first stunned, then happily took it and opened it.

Inside the box were ten small squares filled with straw cushioning, with ten bottles exuding a mesmerizing glow wrapped in the straw.

Lincoln’s hands, usually steady enough for leading a charge with a lance, now slightly trembled as he reached for the bottles.

But immediately, with a ’snap,’ Lann, standing next to him, raised his hand and closed the opened box.

"Ouch!" Lincoln cried out in a stifled voice, "It hurts, sir!"

"It’s supposed to hurt." Lann looked at the young man expressionlessly, "You’re not getting the first batch. I still need someone to manage the Order’s affairs."

Lincoln pursed his lips, muttering softly: "Look at how you’ve handled this... What can I say?"

He held the wooden box tightly in his arms, and the other Embers Knights seemed to understand what the items were. Immediately, many fiery gazes turned towards Lincoln.

Maria and Adeline were led to recognize their arranged rooms, while Lann and the others followed the gradually forming routine.

After being away for such a long time, the Master of the Knight Order invariably had to visit the castle’s office, to understand the recent developments and make decisions on the accumulated important matters.

"Your armor... wow." Lincoln, like a follower, extended his hand to help Lann remove [Smaug] in the castle’s office.

This was the Embers Knights’ first time seeing their commander’s new armor.

"Speaking of which, where’s your previous Grandmaster Level Bear School Armor?"

Lincoln suddenly asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"The previous one?" Lann thought for a moment, "I think Belengar has it?"

"Then, Grandmaster Belengar, we’ll visit the workshop later to retrieve the previous armor of the commander."

Lincoln kept working, speaking to the old demon hunter who had just entered the room.

The old demon hunter hadn’t reacted to what was happening, he could only say: "Huh?"

The young secretary spoke seriously: "An armor set is not a big deal, the key is that it’s the commander’s old armor, which is of representational significance. We are considering building an honor exhibition room or something similar."

"..." Belengar’s face showed bitterness, "I’ve almost disassembled that set for recycling materials."

"Then reassemble it." Lincoln spoke seriously, "The Knight Order can cover the labor costs, but it’s crucial to have the original version, with battle marks, wear... In short, it must come in its original form."

"Wow..." The old demon hunter marveled while raising his hands in surrender, "Actually, I still have his original two swords, do you want them?"

Lann had no idea that Belengar kept his original steel and silver swords, but before he could express his surprise, Lincoln’s voice immediately rose.

"We want them!"

When Lann glanced over, he noticed Lincoln’s eyes seemed to be shining.

He hasn’t yet become a demon hunter, has he?!

"I’m back meow!"

By the time Lann removed the arm plates and chest plate from his upper body, sitting in the wide and sturdy office chair in his silk-embroidered undershirt, Rong Buqiu had happily finished helping outside and trotted in on four limbs.

It cheerfully greeted everyone, while Lincoln yielded and bowed, then moved beside Belengar to add another sentence.

"What Rong Buqiu takes off, we want too."

"You want that too?"

"To establish an honor exhibition room," Lincoln solemnly explained, "That’s an important part of the Order’s culture, of course we want it!"

Belengar felt a bit numb, while Gerry looked at Lincoln, this young boy he once cared for, his stiff and tensely old face struggling to maintain composure.

They looked towards Lann, buried in files behind the desk, only to notice that the usually efficient and composed young demon hunter was now deeply immersed in his work.

In truth, Lann felt that Lincoln, now probably seventeen or eighteen years old, seemed to have a tendency for idolizing and collecting hobbies?

Having a hobby isn’t wrong, it can even relieve stress. As long as the hobby isn’t harmful, that’s all he asks for.

Lincoln handles things quite steadily... the obsession shouldn’t be too problematic... right?

Casually thinking about it, Lann continued to sort through the documents and ledgers in his hands.

"The income from Valerian Commerce Association... my properties in Novigrad, and the Dark Alley Gang..."

The ledger pages flipped quickly, the information on them remembered by Lann in a glance as Mentos effortlessly summarized and deduced whether the current operations of these assets were running smoothly.

Rong Buqiu was next to Lann, perched on the small chair Lincoln had set up for it.

Geralt and Belengar also each found a guest chair against the wall and sat down.

"Communication and supervision with the Dark Alley Gang," the pages kept flipping, Lann’s eyes already moving to the next ledger, yet he raised the one he had just finished, "Which line is the communication channel using?"

The Dark Alley Gang, when Lann went to Novigrad, was a rare black market gang that caught his interest.

The gang itself wasn’t special, just a bunch of trash.

But the key is within that trash, there’s a talent, Francis Bealan.

He keenly realized the importance of information and intelligence in Novigrad, this free port city, as a low-level mob boss and started profiting from it.

Lann discovered him, helped him resolve troubles, meanwhile, this talent and the gang were secretly harbored under his name.

Novigrad, known as ’The Pearl of the North,’ if the messages flowing daily in the city can be utilized appropriately, the power contained within this information would be tremendous and crucial.

However, this kind of power is best kept from surfacing.

So Lann forbids the Dark Alley Gang from using this as their primary profit avenue, the baseline is to occasionally sell some unimportant business information. More intelligence must not leak.

The main funding for the gang comes directly from the finances he allocates.

Only by gripping the finances and personnel appointments tightly can one have absolute control over an organization.

Lann wasn’t worried about his other assets, because those managing assets were friends Lann connected and recognized.

The Dark Alley Gang was different, he admired Francis Bealan but lacked trust in the gang’s organizational form and most of the personnel within.

"We’re using Giancardi Bank’s couriers," Lincoln smoothly responded to Lann’s inquiry.

He opened a large notebook slung like a satchel over his body, flipping a few pages, speaking reasonably.

"Not only couriers, but Mr. Dudu Bieberwitt also reached a cooperation with some idle mages in Novigrad, using magic means to relay information to Sandy Island, then we retrieve it."

"The content of the exchanges is mixed with cryptic code to prevent leaks."

"Sounds good." Lann nodded, evaluating.

"But it’s still not good enough." Lincoln, however, remained neither happy nor sad, "Currently, the pilferage of magical information during transmission is increasingly rampant. No one can trace where so many thieves are or their identities."

The young Demon Hunter nodded, "It’s normal, when tensions rise, that’s when messages and means flood everywhere."

"So compared to convenient, fast but potentially leaky magical information, now we can only rely more on traditional methods."

Lincoln closed the large notebook with a snap, hanging it by his side again.

"Mr. Bieberwitt is currently seeking to acquire a carrier pigeon company, but I worry this might be too conspicuous? So no response has been given yet."

"His move to acquire a company is indeed conspicuous," Lann had already flipped through several ledgers, his empty eyes now waterfall-like streaming with data over his retinas. "After all, many know that he’s managing my properties."

Mentos was trying to deeply analyze the financial data, digging deeper information from its surface.

"Let the Dark Alley Gang handle it, no need to acquire a company, just find some craftsmen who tame carrier pigeons."

Mentions of the Dark Alley Gang again, Lincoln hesitated slightly.

This subtle change in expression, however, felt glaring to Lann, who already entered the zone, analyzing matters with a manager’s mindset, as he sensed this slight hesitation from his secretary.

"..." In just a moment, many possibilities turned in Lann’s mind, and with Mentos’s timely computational support, only one remained. "Something’s wrong with them?"

Questioning in tone but expressed as a statement.

Lincoln immediately felt again, the sense of being seen through everything by his superior as if on a battlefield.

"Mr. Dudu Bieberwitt, according to your instructions, stationed a finance person within the Dark Alley Gang to manage and supervise cash flow."

Thus, the last hint of hesitation from the young secretary vanished.

"But three months ago, when the finance was supposed to submit the ledger routinely, a gang conflict affected the office, that employee was beaten bedridden, reportedly with fractures. The office’s items suffered losses as well."

"Are you sure it’s an accident?"

"Uncertain, sir. They are, after all, far away."

Lincoln answered straightforwardly.

Hearing this, Lann raised an eyebrow and lifted his face.