The metallic smell of blood and the pungent odor of salt were the first things Arthur noticed.
In his previous life—that of a high-level logistics consultant in 2026—Arthur was a numbers man. He moved in the world of bills of lading, Incoterms, and tax optimization. He knew how to move millions across borders without losing a single penny.
Then, a high-speed collision on a rain-slicked highway had wiped it all out. Or so he thought.
"Master Arthur? Please, the merchant is getting impatient. The sun is setting."
Arthur opened his eyes abruptly. He wasn't in a hospital. He was sitting in a cramped, dimly lit office made of gray stone. Through a small, barred window, he could hear the rhythmic crashing of the waves and the distant cries of sailors.
A violent headache overwhelmed him, accompanied by a flood of foreign memories.
Arthur Penhaligon. Junior Customs Agent of Oakhaven. Third-class noble family. Dishonored. Exiled to this ruined port.
The Solis Empire was a giant on the verge of collapse. Its trade routes were leaking gold like a breached hull, and Oakhaven was the biggest breach of them all.
[Ding! Initializing the Logistics Sovereignty System...] A translucent blue interface blinked before his eyes, invisible to the trembling assistant standing before him.
Host: Arthur Penhaligon
Current Rank: Junior Customs Officer (Level 1)
Strength: [Economic Acumen - Passive] - Identifies true market value and hidden tax liabilities.
Current Assignment: Conduct your first honest audit.
Reward: [Supply Chain Intuition] Skill.
Arthur rubbed his temples. He was no longer a consultant in a silk suit; he was a bureaucrat in a world of swords and sails. But the principles remained the same. Whether in 2026 or some fantasy era, trade was the lifeblood of an empire.
"The merchant", Arthur said, his voice surprisingly calm. "Who is he?"
"This is the merchant Kaelen, sir. He's bringing three crates of 'medicinal herbs' from the Southern Isles. He... he usually pays the 'standard exemption fees' to your predecessor."
Exemption fees. A euphemism for bribe.
Arthur stood, adjusting the silver-braided jacket in his office. He felt the weight of the silver seal at his belt. The system's Economic Eye suddenly pulsed, highlighting a ledger on his desk. To any other officer, this seemed perfectly normal. To him, the figures screamed fraud.
"Let's go meet Mr. Kaelen," said Arthur, a cold smile playing on his lips. "I want to see these 'medicinal herbs' with my own eyes."
The assistant paled. "Sir, Kaelen is backed by the local viscount. It's best to take the documents and…"
Arthur didn't wait. He stepped onto the docks, the wind whipping his dark hair. A modest merchant brig was moored before him, its crew unloading three heavy wooden crates. A stout man, dressed in fine silks, stood there, tapping the ground with a gold cane.
As Arthur approached, he stared at the crates. The blue screen flickered again.
Target: Crate of Goods #1
Declared: Dried Lavender (Value: 10 silver pieces)
Actual Contents: Refined Lunar Silver Ore (Value: 450 gold pieces)
Tax Fraud Detected: 4,400%
Arthur's pulse quickened. This wasn't just a bribe; this was high-level smuggling. In the Solis Empire, such fraud was punishable by the confiscation of the entire ship.
The merchant Kaelen smirked as Arthur stopped in front of him. "Ah, the newbie. Here's your fee, Officer Arthur. Let's not complicate things." He slipped a small velvet purse toward Arthur's chest.
Arthur didn't take it. Instead, he grabbed a crowbar from a nearby rack and jammed it into the seam of the first crate.
CRACK.
"What are you doing?!" Kaelen yelled, his face ashen.
The lid flew open, revealing a thin layer of dried lavender. Arthur plunged his hand into the heart of the flowers and pulled out a heavy, gleaming bar of raw silver ore.
A heavy silence fell. The dockworkers stopped. The sailors froze.
"In my office, Mr. Kaelen," Arthur said, his voice echoing through the harbor, "we do not charge fees. We conduct inventories. In accordance with the Imperial Decree of Commerce, Article 14, Section 3… your vessel now belongs to the Crown."
Arthur stared at the blue screen. The mission was nearly complete. He wasn't just going to survive in this world; he was going to dominate it, one audit at a time.