Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 320 Lunch Box
Camille Thorin, an Imperial court official and former member of the Censorate, is currently the "Special Envoy of the Northern Territory".

It's nominally a respectable job, but in reality it's a miserable one. Which official in the capital would want to come to the northern border now?

But many years ago, he didn't think that way.

At that time, Camille was just a bright-eyed young man in the Oversight Council, busy day and night copying documents, checking accounts, and writing reports.

He believed in the system, and that through loyalty to the emperor and his own efforts, he could correct the course of power.

When his first promotion was about to arrive, Camille saw a crack in the door, and what glittered through it was not loyalty to the emperor, but gold.

“Without this money, you wouldn’t even make the shortlist.” His boss patted him on the shoulder.

Camille hesitated for three days before finally pushing open the door to that inconspicuous little shop in the East Alley of the capital, where he had drunk with the owner a few times.

He later learned that the small trading company was an organization of the Jade Federation's Silver Plate Guild in the capital.

The loan was a small amount, enough to buy a few decent pieces of jewelry as a gift for the boss, which led to a smooth promotion.

From then on, the cracks in the door to power were completely pried open.

Spices, jewels, and the sensual pleasures of the couch, like an effortless wave, pushed him from the shore into the warm depths.

“It’s nothing, everyone does it,” he told himself.

Later, the Silver Plate Guild started asking him to deliver a letter or leave a page of accounts along the way...

He himself became the first link in the chain of the Silver Disc Guild in the empire.

The power of money transformed him from an "unnoticed minor civil servant" into a "highly sought-after honorary viscount in the capital."

The higher he climbed, the tighter the Silver Plate Guild gripped him.

Copies of ledgers, lists of receipts, details of secret meetings, and a list of the songstresses from that night.

Any random page could drag him from splendor to an endless abyss.

Just a few months ago, news came that former Northern Inspector Mace had been removed from the Dragon Throne Council for being "not tough enough on the native nobles."

The Silver Plate Guild's upline smiled at Camille and said, "The opportunity has arrived. We'll provide the money and the connections for you to become the resident inspector in the North."

Want to leave the comforts of the capital and go to that frozen land with only desolation and ruins?

Camille's mind was filled with nightmare images of blizzards, roaming wild beasts, and howling barbarians.

That's not a world where decent people can live.

But he knew very well that refusing the guild was never an option for him.

The Silver Plate Guild held a tight grip on his weaknesses, so he could only swallow his reluctance and put on a smile that said he was "willing to serve the guild."

Camille regretted it, deeply regretted it, but there was no turning back on this path, and he could only continue down this dark road.

Before parting, his superior on the street still offered him a glimmer of hope: "If you do a good job this time, you'll be free, and you might even get a high-ranking councilor position in the Emerald Federation."

A high-ranking councilor of the Jade Federation...

That was a position that was comparable to, or even more secure than, his current position as a special envoy.

More importantly, with that status, he could openly live a life of luxury, instead of having to sneak around like he does now.

Camille clung to the promise as if he were a drowning man grasping at his last straw.

He mentally painted that beautiful future over and over again, hoping to prevent himself from completely collapsing on this icy and snowy journey.

Before he set off, his superiors specifically explained the details of the rendezvous to him.

"The person in charge of the Northern Territory will meet with you in Red Tide City."

He then handed over a quick sketch of a person. The person in the drawing was thin with cold eyes, like a venomous snake that had been buried in a cellar for years and could not see the light of day.

Camille stared at the portrait for a long time, silently memorizing it.

…………

The carriage wheels rolled along the official road, accompanied by the heavy clatter of hooves, and the outline of Red Tide City finally emerged from the distant morning mist.

Camille lifted the carriage curtain, his eyes haughty and a cold smile playing on his lips.

Is this what is known as the "Miracle in the North"?
It's just a newly built city. How can it compare to the splendor of the capital? How can it be ranked alongside those prosperous port cities in the south?
But as the convoy drew closer, his sneer gradually froze.

The city walls were thick and heavy, towers stood tall, and crimson flags fluttered in the wind.

The streets were straight, the stalls were orderly, and the citizens had smiling faces, everything was well-organized.

Although it cannot compare to the capital, in this frozen land, this city is indeed... unique.

It's impossible to tell that it was built in just a few years.

Camille was secretly surprised, but immediately raised his chin, concealing that slight emotion under arrogance.

"Hmph, nothing special." He snorted lightly, as if talking to himself.

Bradley personally greeted him at the city gate.

The old butler stood ramrod straight, and his manners were impeccable.

Camille simply nodded slightly, without even lifting her eyelids.

How dare a mere servant put on such an attitude?
In his eyes, no matter how well-behaved the people of the North were, they were still nothing more than barbarians.

But the next moment, a group of children rushed out, skipping and jumping, holding flowers in their hands, and shouted in unison: "Welcome, Your Excellency!"

Camille felt a slight warmth in his heart; this sense of ritual suited him quite well.

Although Louis did not appear in person, such a grand display made him look good.

Upon arriving in Red Tide City, Camille enjoyed a period of attentive hospitality.

The city streets had already been swept clean, and the stone slabs gleamed softly in the morning light.

In the hotel room, the charcoal heater was burning brightly, the bed was covered with silk bedding, and even the curtains were made of newly woven fabric with such neat stitches that not a single flaw could be found.

The dining table was laden with a sumptuous feast of Warcraft-themed roasted meat, accompanied by fine wines specially transported from the south.

All of this greatly satisfied Camille's vanity.

But his expression remained indifferent, and he deliberately maintained an arrogant demeanor.

This is his way of being an official.

Only by adopting an attitude of superiority can one avoid being looked down upon by local lords.

Only by making the other party believe that you are always superior can he have room to demand more benefits in negotiations.

So he watched all of this with a cold gaze, but didn't even bother to utter a word of praise.

However, deep down, he had to admit that Red Tide City had indeed done a good job.

Although it cannot compare to the prosperity of the capital or the grandeur of a major southern town, the fact that such a city could be built in this northern region, which should only have ruins and snowfields, is itself a miracle.

Strangely, the contact person assigned by the Silver Plate Merchant Guild has not shown up in the past few days.

At first, Camille didn't pay much attention, but as time went by, an inexplicable unease gradually welled up in his heart.

…………

A few days later.

Louis finally hosted a banquet in the city hall to receive the imperial inspector who had come from afar.

The hall was filled with candlelight, and the glass chandeliers reflected a golden glow in the firelight. Red flags of the Red Tide hung on the walls, making the entire hall feel warm and solemn.

At the center of the long table, the aroma of Warcraft roasted meat filled the air, silver platters held delicious mushroom soup and stewed beef, and fine Southern wines shimmered with an amber light in crystal glasses.

Camille entered slowly, draped in a heavy fox fur cloak, her eyes cold and arrogant, her steps deliberately slow.

Bradley bowed in welcome, and Louis rose to greet him, behaving with impeccable manners.

Camille entered slowly, draped in a heavy fox fur cloak, his eyes cold and arrogant. He deliberately slowed his pace, as if the entire hall had been prepared solely for him.

Bradley bowed in welcome, and Louis rose to greet him, behaving with impeccable manners.

"Your Excellency, the Red Tide has been waiting for many days and has finally welcomed your presence."

Louis's tone was neither humble nor arrogant, displaying the demeanor of a host without the slightest hint of obsequiousness.

Camille nodded slightly, raised his hand in acknowledgment, and calmly sat down in the seat to the side of the head of the table: "Hmph, at least you know your manners."

After a few rounds of drinks, Camille slowly put down his glass and cleared his throat.

"I have come here on the orders of the Regent and the Dragon Throne Council to announce three things."

He held up one finger, his tone one of superior certainty: "First, acknowledge Louis Calvin and elevate him to the rank of Earl."

He then raised a second finger, his gaze sweeping across the room as if in silent warning: "Secondly, the territories under Earl Calvin's command have an obligation to cooperate with the oversight of the Censorate and accept the supervision of the Empire."

Finally, he paused deliberately, a meaningful smile playing on his lips: "Thirdly, His Highness the Prince will become the Special Envoy for the Reconstruction of the Northern Territory, and will be fully responsible for the reconstruction of the Northern Territory."

As soon as he finished speaking, the candlelight in the entire hall seemed to fall silent for a moment.

Camille lowered his hand, squinted, and stared intently at the young Crimson Tide Lord.

This is what he really wants to see: what kind of expression this young man, who rose to prominence through post-disaster miracles and barbarian victories, will show at this moment.
Is it anger? Resentment? Or a look of utter fear?

Unfortunately, he didn't get to see the scene he wanted.

Louis simply smiled faintly, raised his glass, and casually remarked as if it were just a casual greeting at a banquet: "I will certainly keep in mind His Majesty's and the Regent's decrees."

There was not a trace of panic in his demeanor; the candlelight reflected in his eyes, making them appear as deep and unfathomable as water.

Camille tapped his fingertips lightly on his wine glass, a slight unease settling in his heart; this was not the reaction he had expected.

On the contrary, this calmness made Camille feel a strange unease.

However, this unease didn't last long. After finishing their business, the two naturally started chatting about lighter topics.

Surprisingly, this young Red Tide lord also had a keen interest in fine wines, gems, and luxury goods. He could speak eloquently about the vintages of fine southern wines or the cutting techniques of certain gemstones.

Camille, who was initially arrogant, had to admit in her heart that the conversation was unexpectedly pleasant amidst the clinking of glasses and the lively atmosphere.

As expected of someone from the Calvin family, the other party was different from these local barbarians and followed certain noble rules.

Louis, on the other hand, remained neither humble nor arrogant, and his compliments were perfectly measured.

The way the two raised their glasses truly resembled that of "high society elites," even exuding an air of commanding authority.

Camille felt a growing appreciation for the young man.

These children may not understand the rules; they actually have to actively "hint" at what they should have.

Camille put down her knife and fork, looked at the plate of glittering desserts on the table, and said casually, "Hmm, these northern pastries... are in high demand in the capital. If someone could send them over often, it would be a token of their appreciation."

As soon as he finished speaking, he downed the wine in his glass in one gulp, his expression seemingly casual but actually carrying a hidden meaning.

Sure enough, his plan was not in vain.

Louis simply smiled faintly and waved.

Bradley understood immediately, bowed, and ordered someone to bring out an exquisite lunchbox, which was then gently placed in front of Camille.

The lunchbox was exquisitely carved from ebony, with gold lines inlaid on the surface. The box was divided into two layers, making it appear quite heavy.

Camille looked at the lunchbox and smiled to himself.

As expected, they know the rules.

His slender fingers gently rested on the brass clasp, and with a slight press of his fingertips, a crisp "click" sounded, and the top of the lunchbox slowly popped open.

As the lid was lifted, a dazzling light burst forth.

The entire floor was covered with gemstones of various colors, which shimmered and sparkled under the candlelight, making the whole table appear colorful.

Camille gently picked up a ruby ​​the size of a fingernail, twirled it in the candlelight, and then put it back in the box, as if savoring it slowly.

"Hmm..." he murmured, his tone filled with undisguised admiration.

Excellent, very good. This young count certainly has good taste.

He closed the lid of the box and then slowly unfastened the lower copper clasp.

Her movements remained elegant and composed, as if everything was under her control.

Since the first layer is so good, the second layer must be just as good as these gems. He was really looking forward to it.

With a crisp "click," the second layer was slowly pushed open.

However, what greeted them was not the brilliance of gemstones, but a cold, pungent smell of blood.

Camille froze abruptly, the arrogance in his eyes instantly turning to ice.

In the candlelight, a human head was clearly visible inside the box.

The bloodstains had been wiped clean, but the eyes that remained open in death were still wide open, filled with indelible fear.

Camille's heart sank, and his breathing became erratic. He recognized the face.

Before setting off, he handed over a quick sketch of himself.

The person in charge of the Silver Disc Guild's affairs in the North.

Camille could no longer maintain her elegance; her fingertips trembled slightly, and even her breathing became flustered.

The smugness and self-satisfaction of just moments before crumbled in an instant, leaving only a chilling fear.

My heart felt like it was being clenched tightly, and my blood was surging in my ears.

Why here?
Why would you die?
How did he get exposed?
Cold sweat trickled down Camille's back as he suddenly realized a fact more terrifying than the human head itself.

Since the other party was able to present his head to him, then... his relationship with the silver plate had probably already been completely taken into account.

His identity as a spy was exposed.

This thought pierced his heart like an ice pick, almost suffocating him.

Camille dared not look at the severed head any longer; his throat bobbed, but no sound came out.

After a long while, he finally mustered up his courage and slowly raised his head.

My gaze pierced through the candlelight and landed on the young count across the table.

Louis remained composed, a polite, aristocratic smile playing on his lips.

It was as if the lunchbox contained not a bloody human head, but just ordinary dessert.

The next moment, he raised his glass and gently gestured to Camille, his movements elegant and composed.

(End of this chapter)