Less than an hour after the new notice was posted, Descenders began appearing outside the North Gate warehouse.
At first, there were only five or six of them.
They stood before the notice for a long time. Some copied down the contents in their entirety, while others stared intently at the words “first batch of Pioneer Assistants” and “permanently retained contributions,” reading them over and over to confirm.
Once the news spread to the taverns and squares where the Descenders gathered, the front of the warehouse quickly became bustling with activity.
By noon, the crowd of people trying to sign up was blocking half of the courtyard gate.
“Can the warehouse clearing task be claimed repeatedly?”
“Is the Pioneer Badge only available to the first batch of people?”
“What kind of northern materials can we redeem with our contributions?”
“If the first trial run fails, will our contributions still count?”
Alvan got a headache from all the questions. He had no choice but to set up three long tables at the warehouse entrance with a few temporarily reassigned servants to register names and hand out tasks one by one.
Celine did not step forward to explain.
The contents of the notice were already clear enough.
The parts left unsaid only made it easier for the players to let their imaginations run wild.
In less than half a day, most of the clutter that had accumulated in the warehouse for years was cleared out.
The originally dusty courtyard walls were scrubbed clean, and several collapsed sections of the fence were repaired as people continuously brought over timber.
Some even took the initiative to divide the warehouse into several zones, sorting out usable old furniture, repair materials, and waste meant to be thrown away.
Their efficiency was several times faster than the ordinary workers Alvan had temporarily hired.
Of course, there were plenty of issues too.
To farm extra contributions, some tried moving the same pile of timber from the east side to the west side, only to carry it right back to the east.
Two other Descenders nearly came to blows on the spot over who got to repair a specific wall.
The courtyard only quieted down after Celine publicly revoked their contributions for the day and left a warning next to their names in the register.
In the afternoon, a Descender carrying a longsword brought over a gray-haired old driver.
In his youth, the old driver had traveled the Northern Route with the Rosalind caravan. After the trade route was cut off, he had spent his time transporting goods within the city for small shops.
Alvan personally asked him a few questions about how to handle heavy rain along the way, startled pack beasts, and broken axles.
The old man answered slowly, but he didn't make any obvious mistakes.
Once he passed the preliminary assessment, the Descender who had recommended him immediately received a hefty sum of contribution points.
When word of this spread, nearly half of the people who were still carrying boxes in the warehouse suddenly vanished.
They began running to various parts of the city in groups.
Taverns, cargo yards, repair shops, and even long-abandoned carriage rental agencies—there were people knocking on doors everywhere to ask around.
In just a single afternoon, Alvan ended up with more than a dozen lists of drivers and carriage repairers.
While most of them might not be reliable, it was still far more effective than sitting in the warehouse and waiting for people to show up on their own.
“These Descenders... are truly remarkable.”
Alvan sighed in amazement as he watched another batch of people dash out of the warehouse.
Celine stood by the second-floor window, her gaze sweeping over the busy crowd below, and said softly, “Yes. As long as the rewards are clear enough, they will be more proactive than anyone else.”
She didn't need these players to have any loyalty to the Rosalinds.
As long as they were willing to run errands for her in exchange for contribution points, that was more than enough.
As for the wagons that would ultimately determine whether the caravan could set off, she couldn't rely on them to solve that problem.
Celine already had a destination in mind, and she had also secured some temporary funding.
Leora had agreed to use the North Gate warehouse and the newly signed cooperation contract as collateral to apply for a short-term revolving loan.
The amount wasn't huge, and the interest wasn't cheap, but it should be enough if she only needed to buy a few old, repossessed wagons and pay for basic repairs and supplies.
Once the first trial run was successfully completed, Crow Candle Castle could purchase the goods brought by the Rosalinds under the guise of a northern buyer. This way, the money would quickly circulate back.
Celine said to Alvan, who was currently cross-referencing the lists, “I'll leave the warehouse in your hands for now.”
Alvan looked up. “Are you going out?”
“Just to look around elsewhere,” Celine said naturally as she picked up her cloak. “Continue assessing the drivers and repairers by the previous standards, and settle the Descenders' work daily. If we run out of coins, convert their wages into double the contribution points.”
Alvan nodded in agreement without asking where she planned to go.
The cooperation contract had already handed the authority to dispatch Northern Route matters over to Celine.
If there were things she wanted to share, she would naturally say so.
If she didn't, there was no point in prying.
Once darkness had completely fallen, Celine threw on her dark cloak and left the North Gate warehouse alone.
Celine navigated through several streets and soon entered an area filled with warehouses and old storage yards.
She searched along the numbers painted on the outsides of the buildings, eventually stopping in front of House No. 7.
This was precisely the place she had passed through when she and Nolani left the Secret Alley last time.
Celine stepped forward and knocked three times. There was no response from inside.
She waited patiently for a moment, then knocked again with the same rhythm.
This time, shuffling footsteps finally sounded from behind the door.
The wooden door opened only a crack, revealing a wrinkled face. It was the same old man who had been sitting by the door repairing wooden boxes last time.
He sized Celine up through the crack, his eyes filled with wariness. “The warehouse is closed. Come back tomorrow.”
With that, he prepared to shut the door.
Celine spoke quickly before the door could fully close, “A black feather falls upon white paper.”
The old man's hand froze. He raised his eyes again, his gaze far more alert than before.
“Go to the White Feather Registry if you need to reissue your documents.”
“My documents are already in order.”
Celine pulled the seven-day merchant travel permit out from beneath her cloak, allowing him to clearly see the white feather mark on it.
The gaze behind the crack shifted from her face to the permit, then scanned the dim, empty street around them.
“Then you've come to the wrong place. There's nothing you're looking for here.”
Celine whispered, “I came out of this very place last time. The one who brought me out was a red-haired elf. You checked her wooden pass and even warned us that the patrol had just passed by outside.”
The old man's expression shifted slightly. Soon, the sound of chair legs scraping against the floor echoed from inside the room.
A moment later, the old woman who had been organizing the ledgers also walked up behind the door.
She peered at Celine under the dim light, seemingly finally recalling something.
“Where is that elf?”
“She isn't with me tonight.”
“No entry without a guarantor.”
The old woman's tone left no room for negotiation.
Celine was not surprised by this. Nolani had already explained that every entrance to the Secret Alley was guarded, and anyone entering required a guarantor.
Her smooth passage last time had relied entirely on Nolani's established reputation in the black market.
Now that she was knocking on the door alone, she naturally couldn't expect them to let her in with just a simple passcode.
Celine took a gold coin from her pouch, slipped it under her permit, and slid them together through the crack in the door.
The old man hesitated. Noticing the old woman's displeased expression, he said, “This isn't a matter of money.”
“I know,” Celine said, looking at him. “So this money is merely to pay for the inspection, registration, and re-guarantee fees.”
“I've already been inside the Secret Alley, and I know not to reveal the entrance to outsiders. I'm only going in tonight to buy a few things. I won't bring anyone else, nor will I look into things I shouldn't know.”
The old woman behind him couldn't help but ask, “And if something goes wrong, who takes responsibility?”
“I will.”
“Dead people can't take responsibility.”
“Then verify beforehand that there are no issues with me.”
Celine raised her hands slightly, indicating she would not resist an inspection.
“Tracking, curses, localization marks—you can check for all of them.”
“If I don't pass, I'll leave immediately.”
The two elderly people exchanged a glance. Ultimately, the old woman nodded, accepting the gold coin and stepping aside from the door.
“Come in.”
Celine slipped sideways through the crack.
The old man quickly poked his head out to scan the street. Confirming no one was following, he immediately shut the warehouse door tight.
The layout of the interior was not much different from her memory.
The old woman led her through the outer room and into the innermost storage room.
“The permit only proves that your identity in the city is clean. Whether you can go down still requires another inspection.”
She pulled a palm-sized gray stone slab from beneath the ledger desk and signaled for Celine to place her hand on it.
The slab lit up with a faint gray glow.
The Fog Mirror Earrings at Celine's ears warmed up in response.
【Magic mark scan detected】
【Scan targets: Tracking, localization, curses】
【Core disguise untouched】
The gray light swept slowly along her palm and wrist before quickly dimming back to nothing.
The old woman confirmed that the slab showed no abnormalities, then handed the merchant travel permit back to her.
“You can only stay until midnight. Once inside, you are not allowed to bring anyone out through this path. Next time you come, either bring a guarantor or obtain a Secret Alley pass beforehand.”
Celine took back her permit. “Understood.”
The old man pushed aside several empty wooden boxes in the corner and lifted the old blanket spread underneath.
A square wooden trapdoor, its edges blending almost seamlessly with the floor, was revealed.
He squatted down, fumbling around the edges of the wooden board for a moment, and unlocked two hidden iron locks in succession.
The heavy trapdoor was slowly pulled open, and a wave of damp, chilly air immediately rushed up from below.
An iron ladder stretched all the way down the shaft wall, with only a few blurry lanterns visible at the very end.
This was indeed the path she had taken when leaving the Secret Alley last time.
The old man stood by the shaft opening, his voice low. “Once you go down, knock on the iron door three times. Someone will open it for you.”
Without hesitating, Celine stepped onto the iron ladder and slowly climbed down the shaft.
The wooden board overhead quickly closed back up.
With two soft clicks of the iron locks falling into place, the light from the warehouse was completely cut off.
Rate on N.U.
