The Emperor Has Changed (4): The Missing Sealing String
“It’s from the Imperial Capital.”
The moment Delk finished speaking, the warehouse fell silent. Verdin’s gaze naturally shifted to the sealing string, while Roman wiped all expression from his face.
Hwangdo. Those two syllables weren’t just the name of a city. It was the heart of the empire, the center of power, a place where every noble, bureaucrat, merchant, and swindler was crammed together. And the most troublesome part? The Emperor sat at the very top of it all.
Roman spoke in a low voice. “Young master. This is…”
“The Capital isn’t the Imperial Palace.”
When I spoke, Roman closed his mouth. Delk and Verdin both turned to look at me. I glanced down at the sealing string looped around my finger.
“Does only the Emperor live in the Capital?” I set the string on the table. “Merchants live there. Military suppliers live there. Nobles live there. Beggars live there. All kinds of bastards live there.”
“……That is correct.”
“So there’s only one thing we know for sure right now.” I flicked the sealing string with my finger. “This isn’t something from around Ramal.”
Delk immediately bowed his head. “Correct.”
“And it’s not from the northern merchant guild either.”
“Yes.”
“It reeks of the Capital.”
“Indeed.”
“That’s as far as we go.”
Delk pressed his lips together for a moment. “My apologies. I cannot determine exactly which merchant guild’s method this is…”
“No, there’s no need to apologize.” I waved a hand. “You’re an administrative officer, not an appraiser who evaluates street goods.”
“……”
“If you don’t know, just say you don’t know. If you pretend you do and get it wrong, we’ll all get screwed together.”
Delk made a strange face for a moment—the look of someone unsure whether he’d just been praised or insulted. I understood. Sometimes even I didn’t know what I was saying.
“Who can appraise it?”
“We have Aron, the logistics appraiser affiliated with the family.”
“Where is he now?”
“He should be in the western warehouse district. If we summon him, he can arrive before dawn tomorrow.”
“Good. Call him.”
“Understood.”
I scanned the confiscated goods again. Swords with mismatched serial numbers, high-quality leather armor, preserved rations that smelled like military supplies. And the sealing string.
Everything looks suspicious, but the most annoying one is the sealing string from the Capital.
“What do you plan to do with the confiscated items?”
“We will store them separately in the warehouse,” Roman answered.
“Lock the warehouse properly.”
“Yes.”
“Double lock it.”
“……Double lock, you say?”
“Yeah.” I pointed at the sealing string. “That thing’s small. We need to keep it safe.”
“Understood.”
Roman didn’t ask further questions.
“And keep a record of everyone who enters the warehouse—who goes in, when it’s opened, who checks it.”
“As you command.”
“What about the bandit boss?”
“He is in the underground prison.”
“Still hasn’t talked?”
“No, he has not.”
“Alright. Meeting’s over. See you tomorrow.”
Honestly, I wasn’t entirely against dragging him out right now and forcing his mouth open. But I was tired. My body was tired, and my head was tired. The Emperor suddenly shouting about Normalization, my former fiancée showing up, catching bandits only for suspicious traces to appear… wasn’t that enough for one day?
“Let’s stop here for today.”
At my words, everyone bowed their heads.
“Organize the Ramal report separately, and pull out the list of confiscated goods. Don’t mix them.”
“May I ask the reason?” Delk asked carefully.
“Mixing them would make it dirty.”
“Pardon?”
“Ramal is about us protecting the village. This is something that smells like someone pulling strings from behind. Putting them in the same document would taint it.”
“……Understood.”
The Ramal report was a record of merit. The confiscated goods list was suspicion. Don’t mix the two. Even in this chaotic situation, the young master knew exactly what needed to be done.
As expected… Delk thought with a brief flash of admiration.
Cian turned toward the warehouse door. “I’m going to report to Father.”
“I will accompany you,” Roman said.
“Fine.”
I stopped mid-step and glanced over the confiscated goods once more. They still looked like trouble.
**
Father was in his office. Albern Kaindel, Count of Kaindel—the only person in this territory higher than me. He had been sitting before a mountain of documents, but the moment I entered, he lifted his gaze.
“Ramal?”
“It’s been handled.”
“Casualties?”
“No deaths among the territorial soldiers. No injuries either. On the bandit side, nineteen dead, fifteen captured. No escapees.”
“Not bad.”
The praise was dry, but that was just how Father was. The type who rarely said “well done.”
“I saw the imperial edict,” I said.
Father’s eyes darkened slightly. “I’m organizing the records right away.”
“How?”
“I decided to remove the word ‘subjugation.’ Instead: protecting the affected residents and securing prisoners from an illegal armed group.”
Father looked at me for a moment. “Who ordered that?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“If His Majesty is going to see the subjugation records, writing ‘we subjugated them’ would be disrespectful.”
Count Kaindel’s eyebrow twitched ever so slightly. “Disrespectful, you say.”
“It’s the proper thing to do, isn’t it?”
“I didn’t expect to hear that from you.”
“I suppose this is what happens in front of His Imperial Majesty.”
“……”
Albern Kaindel did not reply. He might have smiled. Or maybe not. He studied Cian for a moment. Disrespectful. For such a casually spoken word, it was remarkably precise. In this era of the Emperor’s Normalization policy, what was needed wasn’t simple innocence.
It was the attitude of understanding the Emperor’s will—and putting that on record first. Cian—his son—already knew this. He had thought the boy changed three years ago, but he always exceeded expectations. This time was no different. And that pleased him.
Count Kaindel quietly tapped his fingers on the desk. “You were right about Ramal.”
“But doing the right thing and doing the safe thing are different,” Father continued.
“I know.”
“If you didn’t, you’d be getting a much longer lecture right now.”
“So because I know, the lecture is short?”
“I haven’t even started lecturing you yet.”
“Ah.”
I shouldn’t have said anything.
“I heard something from the Capital turned up.”
I glanced briefly at Roman. He bowed his head in silence. Fast. As expected of a butler—reporting was his lifeblood.
“According to Delk, yes. But it’s not confirmed.”
“Don’t speak of it carelessly.”
“Understood.”
“The word ‘Capital’ is broad. Broad enough to be convenient, and broad enough to be dangerous. A finger that points at no one in particular will only end up breaking your own.”
His words were difficult, but I understood the meaning. If I carelessly threw around words like Imperial Palace, Capital, military suppliers, or nobles, I could get screwed.
“Cian.”
“Yes.”
“You restored Ramal.”
“I believe so.”
“But there will be those who don’t see it that way.”
“……”
“Whether it’s the Imperial Palace, the nobility, or the merchant guilds—there are many in this world who care more about the process than the result.”
Hearing that, I briefly recalled the contents of the edict.
“Be careful.”
“Understood.”
I bowed my head. “I’ll take my leave now.”
“Go rest.”
Rest? If possible, I’d like that. Really.
**
The walk back to my room was quiet. The late-night scent unique to the mansion corridors lingered—dying candle wax, old wood, the smell of the floor the servants had just finished cleaning. On any other day, I would have passed by without a second thought. But today… my steps kept slowing.
“Young master?” Roman asked beside me. “Is something wrong?”
“I feel uneasy.”
“About what?”
“The string.”
Roman’s eyes moved slightly. “You mean the sealing string?”
“Yeah.”
The swords were big, the food sacks were big, the map stood out. But the string was small. Easy to lose, easy to hide, and even if it disappeared, it would take a long time before anyone noticed.
“Let’s check the warehouse one more time before we go.”
Roman didn’t answer immediately. “Right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Is there a problem?”
“I hope not.”
Roman looked at me for a moment, then bowed. “…I will guide you.”
I turned around. Honestly, I hoped this was just me being paranoid. That I was only feeling uneasy because I was tired, and when we got to the warehouse the seal would be intact and everything would be exactly where it should be. Roman would give me that “Did you see?” look, I’d say “Yeah, I was being oversensitive,” and we’d go back to my room. That would be perfect. I really wished it would turn out that way.
But if life were that kind, I wouldn’t have ended up in this world in the first place.
**
Two guards stood in front of the confiscated goods warehouse. They looked no different from usual. Their spears were held straight, their postures steady. On the surface, there was no problem at all.
“Has anyone gone inside?” Roman asked.
“No, sir.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes. We’ve been guarding it since the shift change.”
“Before that?”
The guard hesitated. “The warehouse custodian came to check the lock.”
“When?”
“Right after sunset.”
“Alone?”
“……We did not confirm that part.”
Shit.
I looked at the warehouse door. It was locked.
“It looks fine from here.”
“Yes,” Roman answered quietly.
“Open it.”
“Yes.”
Roman took out the key. The sound of metal engaging echoed down the corridor. Click—
The door opened.
Inside were the same confiscated goods I had seen earlier. Swords, daggers, spears, leather armor, food sacks, an old map, saddles—everything appeared to be in its place at first glance.
I stepped inside slowly. “Light a lamp.”
Roman held up a lantern. Light swept across the warehouse.
“Swords.”
“Present.”
“Food sacks.”
“Present.”
“Coins.”
“Intact.”
I checked each item one by one. And finally—
I approached the food sacks. Dried meat, hard bread, salt. Beside them was a small cloth pouch set aside separately. The pouch where I had placed the sealing string earlier.
I picked it up.
“……”
I slowly opened the pouch.
It was empty. Completely, neatly empty.
“Roman.”
“Yes.”
“Did you put the confiscated goods away earlier today?”
“Yes. I placed them myself.”
“Did you store the sealing string separately?”
Roman’s face hardened. “….No. I placed it inside the pouch.”
I turned the empty pouch inside out.
The swords were there. The food sacks were there. The map was there.
But the sealing string was gone.
“……”
The warehouse lock was intact. The guards said no one had entered. Everything else remained in place. Only the sealing string had vanished.
Calling this the work of a thief from outside felt wrong—the thief was far too polite.
A thief who doesn’t take the money, doesn’t take the swords, and only takes the string?
This wasn’t a thief. This was someone with a purpose.
I looked down at the empty pouch. Then I let out a small laugh.
“Pfft…”
Sometimes, when things were too damn annoying, laughter just came out without warning.
“Young master.” Roman’s voice had dropped.
I slowly looked around the warehouse. The confiscated goods, the frozen guards, the rigid Roman, and the empty pouch.
Damn it.
The thief hadn’t come from outside.
“Roman.”
“Yes.”
“Where is the warehouse custodian right now? We need to catch him. Immediately.”