Lord: My Shop Connects to Modern Times

Lynn looked up at him.

"It's about the winds blowing in the capital," Sieg said. "As you know, merchants travel all over the country and hear all sorts of things. Some are rumors, some are the truth, and some are deliberately spread rumors."

He paused, his fingers rubbing together as if he were organizing his thoughts.

Lynn didn't urge him. He picked up his wooden cup, took a sip of kvass, and gestured for the other person to continue.

Sieg took another big gulp of his drink, seemingly trying to numb himself like he was drinking alcohol.

Setting down the wooden cup, Sieg leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice: "Recently, the rumors about you in the capital have become increasingly rampant."

Lynn's brow twitched almost imperceptibly.

"How rampant are they?"

Sieg pondered for a moment, then began to recount the whole story.

This wasn't the first time he'd recounted something like this at the dinner table; he'd witnessed far too many power struggles and intrigues among nobles.

Some are fighting over territory, some are vying for family property, and some are simply grudges from their ancestors that have continued to this generation.

But it's rare for something to require such a long deliberation, given that Lynn's situation is indeed quite complicated.

"The rumors about you..." Sig began, "Initially, they were only circulating in a small circle."

Sieg unconsciously traced the rim of the wooden cup with his fingers: "They say you defeated Viscount Gavin using some kind of forbidden weapon. That's nothing new. Those who lose a battle always have to find an excuse, especially nobles. They can't just say they were too stupid."

Lynn did not respond.

"The rumors gradually changed later." Sieg raised his eyes.

"Some people have started saying that Viscount Gavin wasn't just making excuses; you really do possess forbidden weapons."

He paused, then continued, "Those weapons weren't ordinary swords, bows, or crossbows; they were fire-breathing iron pipes capable of killing people from hundreds of paces away. Some people even said you had an explosive iron can that, if thrown, could kill a whole bunch of people."

"The weapons are true; I do possess some weapons that are beyond reality," Lynn nodded in acknowledgment.

"The problem is..." Sig was about to continue.

"The problem is that they portrayed 'fire-breathing' and 'explosion' as the power of the devil," Lynn interjected.

Sieg nodded, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

He hadn't expected Lynn to know so much about these rumors.

"Eight out of ten noble lords in the capital have never seen a real battlefield. After hearing those descriptions, the first word that pops into their minds is magic."

Sieg said slowly, "But you don't have any mages here. The people who sent you here know best who you brought with you. It's impossible that some of the refugees were mages who joined your territory."

Even Sieg himself didn't believe it when he said that.

The scarcity of human mages is a well-known fact across the entire continent.

Aside from royalty and high nobility.

In most territories, there are no formal mages, at most one or two novice mage apprentices.

Sieg continued, "So the rumors just kept going. Some even said that after you conquered Ironstone Castle, you massacred many of your people and spent your days indulging in debauchery in the castle, changing virgins every day just to taste their blood... In short, all sorts of things were said."

Everything was fine until this part, and Lynn almost had a black line on his forehead.

Holy crap, these people have no sportsmanship!

"And then?" Lynn suppressed his emotions and continued to ask.

"And then..." Sieg gave a wry smile, "and then people started linking you to the devil. Some said the Cole family ancestors made deals with evil gods, some said you took in refugees in the Southern Reach to collect human sacrifices, and others said..."

He paused, seemingly hesitant about whether or not to speak.

"explain."

"You're saying those potatoes, cement, and instant noodles are gifts from the devil. Can normal crops grow that well? Can normal materials solidify on their own? Can normal food last that long without spoiling?" Sig shrugged.

"Fools might believe these words, but smart people won't. The most troublesome ones are those who are neither foolish nor clever; they believe half of it and don't believe the other half. I was even slandered by my competitors when I was doing business with you because of this. But your product is too good; such business tactics are useless."

Lynn understood.

Those who are neither too smart nor too stupid are the main force behind public opinion.

They won't accept rumors in their entirety, but they will pick out the most sensational parts of the rumors and spread them as "some kind of truth."

"Several families in the Royal Academy of the Capital have been making connections lately," Sieg said. "Ostensibly, they're monitoring the unrest in the Southern Territory, but in reality..."

He stopped and looked at Lynn.

Lynn finished for him: "Actually, you want to convict me?"

"I'm trying to cause you trouble," Sieg said. "It's not enough to convict you. Your Ironstone Castle transfer documents are complete, and the Canadian side signed them. If they really investigate, they won't find anything serious."

He paused for a moment: "But rumors don't need to be investigated. As long as they circulate for a long enough time and many people believe them, your reputation will be ruined. Once your reputation is ruined, you'll face obstacles everywhere you go in your interactions with others."

Linn was silent.

Sieg is right. In this era, reputation is not just a title—it is real political capital.

If one's reputation is ruined, nobles will be unwilling to associate with them, merchants will dare not do much business with them, and even the common people will become suspicious.

Everything he did in Grayrock Town was based on the trust of his people. If that trust were to waver…

"There's one more thing," Sig's voice lowered, "His Majesty's illness... has worsened."

Lynn's gaze froze.

"Before I left the capital, I used my connections to inquire about the situation at court," Sieg said. "King Charles VI hasn't made a public appearance for two whole months. The prime minister is presiding over all the royal council meetings, and His Majesty's edicts are still being delivered on time, but the handwriting... is increasingly unlike his own."

Has anyone seen His Majesty?

"It's still just that physician Maurice," Sieg said. "There are a few princes too, who I heard met once through a curtain, but didn't get to speak to."

Lynn recalled the scene described in the letter—sitting in a wheelchair, her eyes unfocused, being pushed around in circles in the garden by Morris.

That's definitely not an illness!

"This matter..." Lynn asked cautiously, "How many people have noticed something's amiss?"

“All the smart people have figured it out,” Sieg said, “but no one dares to say it. You know why.”

Lynn certainly knew.

The king is seriously ill, and the throne is in jeopardy, with several princes each wielding their own power. At this critical moment, whoever is the first to stand up and say, "His Majesty may be under control," will be seen as an ambitious usurper and will be attacked by the other princes.

Silence is a lifesaver.

Seeing that he didn't speak, Sieg added, "However, the attitude of Grand Duke Rhodes of the Eastern Territory has been a bit strange lately. He has sent people to the capital several times to urge for troops and supplies, each time bypassing the Ministry of War and going directly to the Prime Minister. This would have been impossible before—Rhodes is the most law-abiding man."

Bypassing the rules means that you've realized there's something wrong with the rules.

Lynn memorized this information.

……

The plates were removed and replaced with fresh tea and snacks.

Lynn and Sieg moved to the reception room. Martha brought in two cups of hot tea and then left, gently closing the door behind her.

Sieg held his teacup and remained silent for a long while, as if he still had something to say.

"On my way to Grayrock Town, I deliberately took a detour," Sig finally spoke, "taking the route from Frostfire City."

Lynn raised an eyebrow slightly.

Frostfire City – Count Karl’s territory.

"As you know, caravans travel all over the country and always have to deal with various lords," Sieg said. "I've been through Earl Karl's territory seven or eight times. I know which roads are easy to travel and how much tax each checkpoint collects."

He paused. "But this time is different."

"Why is it different?"

"There are more checkpoints now," Sieg said. "Before, there were only two tax checkpoints when entering from the west of Frostfire City. This time I counted, there are five."

Lynn's fingers stopped.

"It's not just the checkpoints," Sieg continued, "the villages along the way are much less populated."

Some villages are completely empty—not the kind of empty that's been destroyed, but the kind where people pack up their belongings and move out.

I asked an old farmer who was resting by the roadside, and he said that since the spring of this year, Count Karl has levied temporary taxes several times, and those who cannot pay have to perform labor. The tax collection has not stopped yet.

Many people couldn't hold on and ran away.

"They ran away?"

"Run north, or run east," Sieg said. "Anyway, don't stay in Frostfire."

Lynn remained silent for a moment.

The tax collection that started in the spring—wasn't that some time before Gavin started taking action against himself?

Gavin has already lost, and the other side hasn't made any move to attack. Why is the tax collection still going on?

"You just said there are more checkpoints," Lynn asked. "What are they checking?"

"Investigate people," Sieg said. "Especially those who came from the south. Ask where they came from, where they are going, and what goods they are carrying."

He paused for a moment, then added, "Oh, right, they also hand out flyers."

"Flyers?"

"Yes." Sieg pulled a neatly folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Lynn: "I had someone secretly make one."

Lynn unfolds.

The paper was ordinary, but the words printed on it made his pupils contract slightly.

It was a handwritten flyer, the handwriting was messy, but the content was clear.

The gist is that Lord Lynn Cole of Grayrock Town is using evil magic to wreak havoc in the Southern Territory, colluding with demons, and persecuting loyal subjects. Anyone with information about his whereabouts is to report to the Lord's Mansion in Frostfire City, and a reward of one gold coin will be given.

Below is a rough portrait, which bears a seven-tenths resemblance to Lynn.

Strange things!

Lynn is in Greyrock Town, a fact known to most of the Southern Nobles. Anyone who knows his whereabouts will be rewarded with a gold coin.

Isn't this just giving money away?

No, things aren't that simple.

After reading it, Lynn folded the flyer and placed it on the table.

"Is there a lot of this?"

"Many," Sieg said. "During my two-day stay in Frostfire, I saw them posted in at least five or six places. Along the city walls, at the market entrance, and in front of the taverns."

He took a sip of tea to moisten his throat: "And it's not just Frostfire City. I heard that Earl Karl sent people to deliver these leaflets to the lords of seven or eight surrounding territories, saying that they were going to fight against evil magic and uphold the righteous path."

"Has any lord responded?"

"Not openly," Sieg said, "but behind the scenes... it's hard to say. After all, your weapons have certainly alarmed quite a few people."

Lynn didn't say anything.

He probably knew what Carl was up to.

"What do you plan to do?" Sieg asked.

"Stay calm first," Lynn said.

The sunlight slanted in through the window, drawing a bright band of light on the floor.

In the distance, the clear, orderly voices of children reading aloud could be heard, full of life.

"Rumors stop with the wise, but there aren't many wise people. So I need to let more people see for themselves what Grayrock Town is like."

He looked at Sieg: "When you go back, bring more merchants with you. Not one at a time, but a whole group. Let them see for themselves, hear for themselves, and go back and tell them what they've heard."

Sieg's eyes lit up: "You don't mind?"

"What do you mind?"

"You mind others seeing your things," Sieg said. "Lords usually keep things to themselves, afraid others will learn them."

Lynn smiled.

The smile was faint, but Sieg could see the confidence in it.

"Some things you can't learn just by looking at them," Lynn said. "Even if you learn them, you can't make them. And even if you do make them, you can't sell them."

Sieg pondered those words for a moment, then smiled.

"You're right." He stood up. "Then I'll bring more people next time. Let them see the potatoes, cement, soap, and that strange school in Grayrock Town."

He paused for a moment: "Let them see what kind of person this so-called devil really is."