The sight that greeted Mehmed in Alkhadra on the morning of the next day was perplexing, to say the least. Soldiers were dutifully mentoring the criminals, teaching them how to read and write. The Captain of the guards even regaled some tales where soldiers read stories to the criminals as they dutifully listened. Even Mehmed was a little shocked by the docility of the criminals in a manner of days, but the most important thing was his meeting with Taslim.

The man had more colour on his cheeks than the pale wreck he was a couple of days. Dressed in a simple tunic, he bowed as Mehmed entered his sight. “Have you completed what I have ordered you to do?” The boy swiftly asked as the rest of the soldiers let the contents of his words enter one of their ears and leave the next.

“Yes.” Taslim handed a piece of parchment. Grasping it from the housebreaker’s hands, he looked at the messy handwriting akin to a child. Scowling, he could make out some of the words on there.

“Captain! Give this man penmanship lessons!” Mehmed turned to face the Captain of the guards and pointed at Taslim. The criminal paled as the Captain met him and captured his facial details. “I supposed it’s not bad for someone who picked up reading and writing,” Mehmed mumbled as he flipped the parchment to see a longer list of names and crimes. Mehmed clasped Taslim’s shoulder and gave it a couple of pats, nodding his head in approval.

“Keep up the good work, and perhaps … you may obtain what you desire.” Mehmed encouraged before walking away as the housebreaker looked at the receding boy’s back. Indeed, dealing with nobility was much scarier than dealing with anyone else for this lowly peasant. He wiped the brow of his forehead as the Captain accosted him, preparing him for a quick penmanship lesson. As he was about to groan instinctively, the fierce gaze paired with the menacing grin on the Captain’s face shuttered all complaints.

“How relaxing,” Wasifi commented as he kicked back in his office. He was reading a foreign novel imported from a strange country called Burgundy situated in the far north. It was a simple tale about how a knight became a hero, filled with heart-pumping romances and lovable villains. There was even a particular arc where the hero and a villain fell in love, but they couldn’t get together. That arc always broke Wasifi’s heart; it severely enraged him every time he remembered that arc. If only he could find out where the author lived, he could give them a piece of his mind!

“Ah, Steward Wasifi, good to see that you’re free! I got something for you to do.” Mehmed suddenly barged into his office and grasped a certain piece of parchment in his hand. Wasifi quickly hid the book under a mountain of scattered papers, grabbed a piece of paper, and looked through it.

“I still have some paperwork, Mehmed. I’m a very busy person, unlike some people.” Wasifi glared at the boy, but the boy couldn’t see it due to the hood covering his face.

Stifling a giggle, Mehmed continued, “Yes, Wasifi, you may be very busy. Help me arrange some meetings with a couple of merchants.” The boy placed the parchment on his desk and slid it across the messy desk.

Groaning internally, Wasifi grasped the paper and looked at it. “Who wrote this? Looks like some child’s handwriting.” Mehmed whistled as the Steward continued grumbling about the work.

“I can arrange them. When do you need it?” Wasifi could barely suppress the annoyance in his tone as he wanted to rip the obstacle to his book to shreds.

“Now, immediately, as soon as possible. In fact, arrange them back to back, I don’t mind. I like to meet with all the merchants; I will take charge of this territory one day after all.” Mehmed explained as he gestured about with his hands.

Biting his lip, Wasifi got out of his desk and clenched his hands into a fist. He left the building, leaving to set up a couple of meetings. The sooner he gets it done, the sooner he can continue reading. The arc was hinting that his favourite pair might get back together again!

Mehmed went to his desk and scoured true the messy piles of papers. Some of them were outdated, dating back to a couple of years ago. The boy shook his head at the poor example his Steward was setting as he scoured Wasifi’s tabletop. Underneath a pile of papers, he found an expensive-looking book bonded with leather. The golden title said, “Don Don’s knightly adventures, volume 4”. He turned to the first page, which states, ‘translated by His majesty’s Book Council’. Mehmed put away the book, intending to look at it perhaps at Alwaleed’s library at another date.

Opening the drawers, papers that were orderly and organised were placed there. One thing stood out from the rest of the documents on the desk, the royal seal of approval by the Royal Court was stamped on the top of the papers. Mehmed could only admire how much care and attention Wasifi placed on these papers, unlike those adorning his desktop. Nothing was incriminating, which should not be a surprise. If he wanted to find something like that, he would have to search through their homes.

There was still an interesting place to search through, his bookshelf! The man always has weird and esoteric books from time to time; Mehmed always wondered whether some of them were banned due to the topics they discussed. So it was just like any other day when the boy began digging into the deeper ends of Wasifi’s library, looking for any interesting finds.

While digging out a book, Wasifi scampered over with a merchant in tow. “Stop, Mehmed!” Wasifi wailed as he watched the boy placing some illegal novels onto the ground. The boy jolted from the sudden shout and put back the book he was pulling out.

“I really should move the books out from my office.” Wasifi thought to himself as he scampered to his library and began shoving illegal novels back into the back of his library. Quickly organising his library in minutes, Mehmed could stand back and watch his actions’ incredible efficiency.

Breathing a sigh of relief as he finished organising everything, he stood back up and beckoned the merchant he brought over. “I have prepared a meeting room for the two of you. Wasifi ushered the two to a meeting room which he quickly set up before scampering away to his office.

“Mehmed Alkhadra, how can I help you today?” The merchant bowed as he took a seat across Mehmed.

“Lutfi Khalili, you’re a man that many in the county admire. The story of poor peasant climbing themselves into one of the richest merchants in this county.”

“No need for flattery. Get straight to the point, please.” Lufti urged and brushed away some dust from his silk tunic.

“Tax evasion, possession of unregistered firearms. Can you explain yourself, sir? Some of these could be capital offences if we decided to escalate it, of course.” Mehmed brusquely declared the listed crimes on the piece of parchment.

Lufti smirked and glared at the boy. “Little boy, you must understand what you are saying. These are not small crimes that you should accuse anybody.”

“I can bring a couple of guards and search your house. Do not worry about the false accusations; in fact, my men could pinpoint the exact location of the damaging items.” Mehmed calmly smiled. The table between them shook as Lufti clenched the table.

“What do you want from me?” The merchant sighed. “You’re not the type who believes in justice and all that nonsense.”

“We can discuss that later. Let me show you the number of people in our territory that have registered firearms.” Mehmed took out a piece of paper. He sent it across the table, and the merchant picked it up. Front and back, not a splotch of ink were written on the piece of paper.

“As you can see, nobody in our territory is legally allowed to own firearms. I want to know why you went ahead to procure these unregistered firearms?” The boy coldly asked as the Lufti sent the blank piece of paper back to Mehmed.

“The recent bandit attacks got people spooked. Even you were impacted by them, yes?” Lufti glanced at Mehmed, nodding before continuing.

“Considering how regular weaponry is no good against these foes, I have looked up for something else to protect myself and my caravans. There were some rumours of firearms stopping a bandit attack, and I decided to procure them for personal use. If you wondered why they are unregistered, his Majesty’s production of firearms is not enough for demand. All the merchants in the capital have or are procuring firearms.” Lufti explained his position before pausing to let Mehmed comprehend his words.

“Where did you get them?” Mehmed interjected within Lufti’s brief pause.

“The capital’s underworld. Some gang in the capital got their hands on the plans and began manufacturing them on mass. Considering how deadly these weapons are, I advise avoiding the gangsters from the capital.” Lufti shivered as he reminisced the time he fired one of those weapons. Mehmed nodded in understanding.

“Now, I’ll tell you what I want from you. From now on, you will be subordinate to me. And before you even complain, I won’t even be taking your money. I want information about the comings and goings of the marketplace and the underworld. Inform me about such matters, and I will look away from your crimes. In fact, if you do a good job, I will even personally vouch for you to help gather permits so you and your men could use firearms. A noble’s words should speed up the application by a lot.” Mehmed laid out his terms and watched the blank expression on the merchant’s face.

“Heh heh. Young master, who is your backer?” Lufti leaned forward as he chuckled.

“You were a typical son of a noble, with nothing noteworthy to mention. Has the expedition rattled you? Or…” The merchant listed out his theories. Mehmed just smiled.

“Keeping silent? Looks like I might have to revaluate my conduct of business here. And don’t worry, I will pay my taxes this time.”

Mehmed dismissed the merchant from the room. Lufti could heave a sigh of relief as the entire discussion ended swiftly. Any longer, and he worried that the boy, no, demon, might start listing out all of his crimes. Leaving the corridor, he observed another merchant walking past him into the meeting room. Lufti could shake his head and walk faster. He needed to head back to his office and prepare for the new shakeup that the boy was causing; things were going to change. Good or bad? The merchant didn’t know, but he rather stayed in the boy’s good graces.

“Whew!” Mehmed sighed as the last of the merchants scampered away from the room. Many concessions were extracted from them, but he could never touch their money. There was a saying around these parts, ‘You can get anything from a merchant, but you can never get their money. He tapped the armrest as he thought about his next move.

House breaker Taslim entered the meeting room and greeted his tired liege. “I heard that you wanted to see me.” The criminal bowed at a ninety-degree angle. Mehmed pointed at a chair, and Taslim rested his posterior upon it.

“Not all the merchants I circled came here today. Do you think that they conduct their business lawfully all the time? Surely there must be some slip-ups from time to time.” Mehmed rhetorically asked, and Taslim nodded.

“They’re a bunch of laws describing the banned items in the kingdom. I will ask the guards to prescribe a copy for you and your men. Do remember some of them. If you can’t, break your expeditions across multiple days for multiple categories of items.” Mehmed explained.

“I understand, sir.” The man acknowledged his words.

“I have some new targets to investigate. I want you all to investigate the homes of our Chancellor, Steward, Marshal, and the Captain of the Guards. Hmm… soon I will be heading to Khaled to procure some carriages, so investigate all the staff who works in the castle. That includes the guards and the soldiers.” Mehmed demanded, looking into Taslim’s eyes.

“We will do as ordered.” Taslim nodded and was soon dismissed by Mehmed.

Just as Mehmed luxuriously spent time sipping his tea, a guardsman ran into the room and announced, “Young master, there is a person in the prison who wish to see you!”

“What crime did they commit?” The boy asked, his eyes scrunching up.

“They stole something, and one of your men stopped them.”

“You mean the criminals?”

“Yes, the criminals… stopped them.” The guardsman sheepishly explained.

“Ho,” Mehmed exclaimed, and he followed after the guardsman.

“Hello, sir.” The grunt bowed respectfully as Mehmed approached the man.

“Do give an account of what happened. I want to hear it from your mouth.” The boy raised an eyebrow as he sized up the grunt in front of him.

“I was heading back home when I saw a merchant carrying some goods. A man suddenly ran to the merchant and took a bag of goods. I quickly rushed after the man and beat him to the ground.” The grunt grunted as he regaled his simple tale.

“Not bad. You should help stop crime from time to time.” The boy walked over to the grunt and patted him on his shoulder.

“Thank you for your kind words, sir. But I must thank you for allowing me to pay back for my crimes.”

Mehmed began heading over to the cell with the prisoner but could not help but see a blood trail leading up to the cell. He could not help but wonder how thorough his grunt was with beating the criminal. It firmed his resolve to be careful around his men, but how bad could they beat…

A man with black eyes and a bloodied nose stared at Mehmed and the prison warden with a joyful expression. “I’m seriously paid too little for this!” The man exclaimed.

“You’re paid to do this! Who paid you?” The prison warden yelled in a furious tone. The man shook his head.

“You will not comprehend my words, sir. Only the young boy over there will understand.” The man pointed towards Mehmed, who had an amused expression on his face.

“Big Sister says that she wants to see you. She has a task for you.” The man recalled.

“I see. But why did you steal?” Mehmed nodded his head and asked.

“She said it was a test of some kind. Bullshit! I didn’t expect to get beaten to a pulp!” The man railed on about his indignity.

“Let him go.” Mehmed caressed his forehead as he ordered the prison warden.