Kingdom’s Bloodline

Dragon Blood Project.

Thales frowned tightly, trying to forget the discomfort caused by that night.

He looked at Morat in a daze, but couldn't help but think of Crown Prince Midil who had never met before.

It's hard to imagine that the man who was also sitting in a wheelchair, the man who was full of praise from Gilbert, Jinny and even the Black Prophet, strategized while talking and laughing, completely changed the rules of the game in the dragon kingdom.

However, Thales remembered the stone urns in the tomb of the stars.

As a prince, heir to the kingdom, he failed to save himself.

At this moment, at the other end of the interrogation room, the door was slammed open.

Thales came back to his senses: a man in luxurious clothes but with a black cloth on his head and handcuffed hands was brutally escorted in by two burly men and came in front of Raphael.

"No matter who you are and what you want to do, we can talk about it..."

The man staggered all the way, embarrassed, but still trying to convince the other party.

It's a pity that the big men were unmoved. They rudely pushed the man onto a chair, pulled up the chains connecting the handcuffs, and locked him in a ring on the table, but they didn't take off his headgear.

"Who is that?" Thales wondered in a low voice.

But Morat just raised a finger to signal him to be calm.

The escort left the interrogation room without looking back, and the only sound left in the room was the man's nervous panting.

Until Raphael walked behind him coldly, and ripped off the black hood of the man in Chinese clothes.

Seeing the light at first glance, the interrogate squinted his eyes and turned his head in embarrassment. It took a long time to get used to it.

He looked at Raphael who was the only one left in the room.

"Where am I? Who are you?"

The man was middle-aged, with messy hair and a bruise on his face. It was obvious that he had not been treated well before.

"never mind……"

But seeing the light finally reassured the man, he observed his surroundings, cleared his throat:

"But I strongly recommend that you let me go—before the situation gets worse.

"

"My fish is too big for you to eat."

Raphael didn't answer, but just sat down on the opposite side on his own, staring at him coldly with a pair of red eyes.

The man chuckled and pulled the shackles on his hands, causing the chains to rattle

"Ha, it's kind of like that..."

"Tell me buddy, is it the Blood Bottle Gang or the Brotherhood?"

Thales looked at the Black Prophet suspiciously, but the latter seemed not interested in the interrogation because of the presence of an old god.

Although he described it as a mess, the person being interrogated seemed to have gradually regained his composure. He spoke confidently and confidently:

"As far as the Blood Bottle Gang is concerned, Catherine and I are old friends. We were old acquaintances when we were in the South Bank, not ordinary 'familiarity', hehe..."

Raphael remained silent.

The man's smile narrowed slightly.

"If it's a fraternity..."

The interrogate leaned back in his chair, shook his head and clicked his tongue:

"That would be even better."

"I know Cinza, he's a good guy who's been through a lot of battles. And Razanche the Wolf, I've known him since he was dumping goods on the street, and I almost partnered with him. Fatty Morris and I There is a business relationship..."

But the boneless man seemed determined not to speak, only staring at him with a pair of eyes.

"If neither..."

The man was thinking about it, and his face changed again.

"That was directed at me."

The interrogator left the back of the chair and looked at Raphael seriously:

"Who is your employer?"

"Let me guess: Fenxiang Chamber of Commerce? Carpenters United Guild? Or some nobleman who has misunderstood? Or some blind country boy?"

But the man thought of something, his eyes moved:

"I see."

"Is it my gang of mud legs who hired you?"

He leaned back in his chair and grinned.

"They think they can... well, listen, the people who hired you are so poor, no matter how much they pay, whether it's a hundred or two hundred, a thousand or two thousand, I'll double it. "

The man raised his hand freely, pulling the shackles and motioning to Raphael.

Raphael was unmoved.

The man frowned:

"If you didn't do this for money, for example, for human loyalty, or if you are their relatives, then listen to my advice: it's not worth it. You helped them, but you put yourself in it..."

Although the situation is bad, the man's words are habitually bossy.

"No." Raphael interrupted him, with a bad tone:

"We are not gangsters robbing, nor seeking revenge from other families, let alone using money to eliminate disasters."

The skeleton man pressed the table, leaned forward, and stared at the interrogated:

"We serve the kingdom."

When he got the unexpected answer, the interrogee froze for a moment.

"Serving the Kingdom..."

The man said it silently a few times, then he let out an aha and laughed heartily.

"People from the public house?"

"Very well, you may not know it, but I am the most law-abiding citizen of the kingdom and a big taxpayer."

"So where is this? Which police department? Are you a plainclothes police officer? What's your name? Where do you work?"

He relaxed, tilted his head and looked at Raphael, and smiled maliciously:

"Most importantly, who is your boss?"

Raphael is expressionless:

"You don't want to see my boss."

Beyond the glass, Thales couldn't help but glance at Morat.

The man narrowed his eyes, shrewdness appeared in the slits of his eyes:

"Oh, you can't tell."

Raphael twitched the corners of his mouth, and flipped through a stack of documents from the table:

"Your name?"

After knowing the background of the other party, the man became very comfortable, his attitude was a lot more lazy, and he didn't care about the question of the boneless man:

"And I have quite a few friends in the security hall, many big shots, the powerful director of the West City Police Hall, Lord Robic Dila..."

Raphael sighed.

The skeleton man silently closed the files, took them off the table in an orderly manner, and then raised the volume to repeat:

"Name?"

The man shook his head:

"I'm also an honorary director of the Central Liquor Merchants Association..."

In the next second, Raphael's left hand turned into an afterimage!

He grabbed the chains that bound the man to the table and yanked back.

boom!

The interrogatee had obviously been pampered and comfortable for a long time, he was pulled from his seat before he could react, first his waist hit the edge of the table, and then his nose hit the table hard.

The man whimpered in pain, his nose was bleeding.

He wanted to get up and raise his head, but Raphael held the back of his head with his hair, and pressed him firmly against the table.

"Name."

Raphael smiled calmly.

The man on the table struggled, his expression distorted and exasperated:

"You bloody little—"

Raphael picked up the man's head, pointed his nose at the table, and smashed it again.

boom!

The man trembled, gritted his teeth and grunted.

"Name."

Raphael still smiled.

The man's face was bright red, and tears flowed down his face, but his temper was beyond expectation:

"I know this process, start with simple questions, let the prisoners get used to answering..."

Before he could finish speaking, Rafael turned the man's head hard with his hands, and pressed the bleeding nose of the subject on the table firmly, rolling it back and forth.

The man let out a muffled howl like a pig being killed.

Thales, who was observing all this, frowned, while the Black Prophet on the side laughed lowly, causing the black veined vines on his knees to tremble.

Raphael's next sentence was understated, like a lover's raving:

"Name……"

But the other side is different.

"Ah fuck fuck fuck - Moss! Moss!"

Under the severe pain, while cursing, the man answered happily:

"Dagory Moss!"

He grunted and protested:

"Please! Seriously working so hard, why are you getting overtime pay!"

The corners of Raphael's mouth raised slightly, and the skeleton man at that moment looked evil and awe-inspiring.

He let go of his hand, and the interrogate named Dagoli was able to sit back in his seat, holding his nose and gasping for pain, indignantly:

"Fuck! Damn it!"

Raphael took back the document, but he frowned as he looked at the sticky substance on the table that was mixed with blood, tears and tears.

He moved the stool, and finally put down the file in the corner of the desktop:

"What do you do?"

Dagoli stared back viciously while covering his nose:

"What do you do again! New temp? Yah, wait—"

Dagori's expression changed, and he quickly stopped Raphael who was pulling the chain again.

"Answer me," the bone man smiled brightly, shaking the half-torn chain:

"Or answer it."

Dagoli looked at Raphael seriously, and finally confirmed the other's eyes.

"liquor."

The person being interrogated let out a breath of resignation and answered quickly.

"I'm a wine merchant. I make wine and sell wine—sell wine in the capital, and many of my customers are high-ranking officials and nobles..."

Dagoli swallowed his throat, and kept his eyes on the chain in Raphael's hand:

"You know, buddy, it's okay to overstep your authority and abuse lynching, but if someone wants to mess with you from the inside, it's a good reason to fire you..."

"Mr. Moss," Raphael ignored him at all, but opened the file:

"The orchards, wineries, warehouses and shops under your name, including other related industries, have recently closed down a lot?"

Dagoli rolled his eyes, wanting to look at the contents of the document, but Raphael raised his head, and the man quickly turned his gaze elsewhere.

"If you want to find trouble with taxes, you can give up now."

Dagoli cleared his throat and returned to the familiar field. He became more comfortable and capable again:

"City Hall, Police Department, Finance and Taxation Department, City Defense Team, Disciplinary Department, all departments in the capital can prove that I am a law-abiding citizen and a good person who repairs bridges and roads. If I go to the trial seat, I can hire the best As a defender, many dignitaries will be willing to vouch for me and even testify in court."

"In fact, I not only paid enough taxes, but also paid 'a lot' more, you know, 'a lot'."

He stared at Raphael with a sly and haughty smile—it was just that smashed bright red nose somewhat ruined his image.

The chain on Raphael's hand tightened again:

"So Mr. Moss, why have you closed so many wineries and shops and laid off a lot of workers in recent weeks?"

Dagoli stared at the chain, his face was a little ugly:

"Okay, let's be gentle—I'm a businessman, so there's no other reason for closing down. Of course, the market is bad."

Raphael raised his eyes:

"But you are the largest wine merchant in the central government, and the supplier of banquet drinks for many aristocratic families."

Dagoli frowned, and smiled confidently:

"Ha, so you know."

Raphael still ignored him:

"So, there are many people working under your winery industry, including farmers, workers, artisans, and fellows, including several investment partners, some upstream and downstream raw material suppliers, distributors, and bulk wine merchants. There are hundreds of people. "

Raphael looked at Dagoli:

"They intend to sue jointly and send you to the trial seat."

The wine merchant's expression changed, first with indignation, then with disdain.

"Ha, I knew it."

He let out a loud bah, his eyes were fierce:

"Those bastards, ungrateful mud-legged..."

On this side of the one-way glass, Thales frowned and looked at the Black Prophet:

"This guy is an old and cunning businessman, but I don't understand, why should I come to see this?"

"Relax, Your Highness," Morat raised his finger to his lips, and said softly:

"Some things are small, but they can be seen from the small, and some roles are small, but they can reach all directions."

Thales was taken aback.

On the other side of the room, Raphael smiled slightly:

"So, Mr. Morse, do you know why they're suing you?"

"Why?"

Dagoli seems to have regained his confidence:

"You know, the wine market is not booming recently, the sales are not good, and my capital turnover is a bit poor. Considering the cost, I have to transfer the industry and make a difficult choice-closing some wineries. This is just one of them."

Raphael narrowed his eyes:

"real?"

Dagoli didn't seem to hear Raphael's doubts, and he continued to talk eloquently:

"During this process, I and a very small number of employees may have some small differences on the issue of salary payment..."

Raphael smiled coldly:

"So, you have owed your subordinates wages on credit for a long time, and even owed money to your partners, including purchase money and security deposits for upstream and downstream. It's not considered the usual deduction, so let's forget it?"

Dagoli's expression turned cold.

While staring at the chain in Raphael's hand, he explained carefully and patiently:

"Arrears? Listen, I admit that I have made some small changes to the calculation method of money including the time limit..."

Raphael interrupted him:

"So you want to run away with money?"

Dagoli frowned, speaking with integrity:

"Run away? Hey, I'm just out of town for a vacation—I'll tell anyone who comes, you can't get a confession illegally."

Raphael sneered lightly:

"But the people you owe money to, especially the workers, don't think so."

Dagoli frowned and stared at Raphael for a while, and said seriously:

"Listen, I bear the costs, ideas and methods, and they provide labor, craftsmanship and time. The boss and employees work together to make the best wine and work towards a goal."

"So the business of the winery is not only mine, but also everyone's. We are like a family."

"When a family experiences setbacks and tribulations, everyone in the family should be considerate of each other and overcome difficulties together!"

He stared at his eyes and tapped his fingers on the table, as if he wanted to teach the person in front of him a good lesson:

"But some people just don't understand. They are narrow-minded and have no big picture. They can't bear a little bit of hardship. Just because their salary is a little less and their life is not going well, they turn their faces and deny people. They don't care about what I provide them. opportunities and conditions."

Raphael nodded, pouted:

"But you are the boss, and this is your winery."

"That's right!" Dagoli said sadly:

"So I can see the truth of this industry more than they do, I care more about the future of this industry than they do, and I am more saddened by the depression of the wine industry than they are, because I am like a father to them!"

Raphael glanced at the file:

"But you shut down the winery."

Dagori's expression froze for a moment, then he hummed softly:

"No way, no matter how warm the family is, no matter how hard the father works, if the children are rebellious, disobedient and ignorant, there will always be nothing they can do."

"And you know, some people, they're just..."

The wine merchant looked like he hated iron for being weak:

"When I shut down the winery, 90% of them were forced to raise wages by such lazy workers."

"This kind of person is simply a cancer in the industry. They are short-sighted. They don't know that the most important thing in a job is not salary and treatment, but room for advancement and development prospects, including the value of exercise!"

Dagoli looked very angry:

"They don't know how to look at the problem from a higher level of bullshit. You have to know when we bosses care about our own salary..."

"Trouble, they know it, but why don't they think about it when they make a fuss, what if the winery is shut down by them one day? What if the whole industry is collapsed by them? When the time comes, it will be unlucky and pay for it People, aren't they themselves?"

Tired of speaking, Dagoli paused.

He exhaled through his nose with regret on his face:

"Right now, I can only say that they have brought the blame on themselves, and they seek benevolence for benevolence."

"Enough," Raphael obviously got tired of listening to his speech:

"We don't care about your business."

The boneless man leaned forward and said indifferently:

"I don't even care if you are another shameless and unscrupulous boss."

"We only care about one thing."

Dagoli let out a breath, with a "finally here" expression on his face, and a sneer smile.

"Okay, let's talk straight," the wine merchant said contemptuously:

"How many indicators did your superiors give you?"

"How much, how much does it cost to let me go?"

Raphael stared at him with cold eyes.

He said coldly:

"I want to know the real reason why you closed the winery and quit the wine business."

Dagoli was puzzled for a while:

"What, what?"

Raphael sneered:

"Before closing, you said in a private meeting of the Wine Merchants Guild that there is no future for the wine industry in the future?"

"So you would rather divest early and run away?"

Dagoli's complexion changed first, and then he said unhappily:

"I didn't run away, I just went abroad for vacation..."

But Raphael repeated without emotion:

"answer me."

Dagoli was stunned for a long time, but he finally shook his head.

"I have given you all the answers you want...and to be honest, you are involved in illegal torture..."

Raphael smiled, and opened the next document without changing his face:

"In fact, I have a list of bad debts that you have accumulated over the years, borrowing money around the world."

Dagoli's expression changed.

While observing the other party's watch, Raphael continued:

"And a list of your property outside of the wine business: six real estate properties in the Central Territory, two long-voyage merchant ships anchored in Maiden Harbor, a large plantation in the South Shore Territory, a salt farm in the Cliff Territory, and a A large field, two foreign titles bought with a lot of money, your wife's private garden, the positions of your two sons, including the assets under the names of your three mistresses and eight other illegitimate children..."

Seeing Dagori's complexion change, Raphael narrowed his eyes:

"If I send them to the Excise Department and the Judgment Hall..."

Dagori swallowed his throat, but he still said firmly:

"Then go."

Raphael frowned.

Dagoli left the back of the chair, reached the table, gritted his teeth and said:

"I can guarantee that no matter where you are, you can only get one answer: that is my legal income, the formalities are complete, and the property rights are clear."

"If you dare to use the name of the king's official power to extort money, illegally embezzle private property, and do such vicious things to a powerless and powerless commoner businessman?"

"Wow, this is a big crime, and it goes against the Kingdom's policy of encouraging the market and supporting business for more than ten years."

The wine merchant stared at Raphael viciously, as if he wanted to pay back the revenge of the broken nose:

"It's not good to hear this news. In my capacity, I guarantee that many chambers of commerce will file a protest, including many righteous and enlightened bureaucrats and nobles, and powerful people from all over the world. They will speak out."

"At that point, it's your boss who doesn't want to see me."

Dagoli with threats:

"Because you are not touching me, but the cheese of many big people behind you."

"do you understand?"

"Now, whether it's labor disputes or tax issues, you have no reason to detain me."

Raphael closed the document in his hand and started to look at Dagoli again, as if he realized for the first time how difficult this character is.

The latter looked back at him coldly, shaking the shackles on his hands.

A few seconds later, Raphael smiled.

His appearance was already handsome, but this smile was warm and bright, which made him even more fond of him.

The skeleton man stood up, took out the key, and opened the shackles for Dagori almost fawningly:

"Please rest assured, Mr. Moss, these evidences will not be sent to the Tax Office or the Court of Justice, and we don't want to disturb the people behind you."

Seeing that the strategy worked, Dagoli, who was freed from the shackles, had a happy expression on his face, and said in a more eloquent tone:

"Very well. From my point of view, you are young and have a bright future. You are still a promising back wave—how do you call it?"

But Raphael didn't answer, he just continued the topic just now:

"I will only pack these materials and documents and send them to Emerald City."

Dagori was taken aback:

"What?"

Raphael's smile is like spring wind and rain:

"Yes, to Iris Castle, to the desk of the ruler of the South Coast Territory, Duke Jann Cavendir."

"how?"

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