NEC Chapter 36: The Network of Connections in Qingze City

After spending some time together, Little Josie and Little John had noticed something: Chen Mo’s astonishing ignorance of basic Starry Continent knowledge.

When conversations touched on legendary figures, national customs, celestial signs, or magical beast behaviors, things everyone on the continent knew, Chen Mo’s eyes betrayed a blankness purer than a newborn foal’s.

Yet, upon entering a large city, he displayed an uncanny knack for navigating social intricacies.

This left the two young mercenaries in awe.

What kind of family could raise a young master so isolated from the world yet so adept at social finesse?

They served him with even greater diligence.

Following Chen Mo’s instructions, upon arriving in the city, Little John sought out an old mercenary he knew. After a few cups of cheap liquor, the man opened up.

The old mercenary’s situation looked grim. He couldn’t even afford the standard leather armor of a low-tier mercenary, wearing instead a frayed, plant-fiber vest woven from coarse vines, its edges worn and darkened. A rusty, thin iron chest plate was the only thing lending it a shred of dignity.

According to Little John, that gear was barely better than going shirtless. Without the iron plate, it might only fend off something as trivial as a toothpick.

Initially reserved, the old mercenary loosened up after three rounds of drinks. He leaned back, one grubby boot propped on the bench, and tugged open his chest plate’s straps, revealing an equally greasy undershirt. As he spoke, he occasionally tapped the mercenary badge pinned to it.

“The ones closest to the mage towers? That’s gotta be the [Skill Level Certification Office].”

Little John wasn’t unfamiliar with the Certification Office. He quietly explained to Chen Mo that it was the department responsible for grading mercenaries. For example, for him and Little Josie to advance from unranked to Copper Crest, they’d need to dutifully pay, test, and get certified there.

It was a standard branch of the Mercenary Guild, with considerable influence.

The old mercenary overheard and let out a hearty laugh.

“Little kids, what do you know? Don’t think the Certification Office is all that grand. I’ll let you in on something: our Crescent Moon’s Certification Office has long been a private enterprise!”

Gulping down more liquor, he belched loudly, turned back, and continued.

“The Mercenary Guild makes money, sure, that’s Crescent Moon Federation money. But the Federation can’t hog it all, right? Gotta leave some scraps for the big shots below.”

He counted off on his fingers. “Skill Level Certification Office, Equipment Repair Station, Mission Intelligence Office, Potion and Supply Specialty Store, Mercenary Training Grounds, Medical and Rehabilitation Center, Equipment Appraisal and Consignment Shop, Mercenary Relay Station, Mercenary Canteen, Long-Distance Transport Crew… which one isn’t a private business?”

“The juiciest ones are the Certification Office and Mission Intelligence Office—exclusive deals. Expensive potions? I can skip them. Bad food? I’ll find my own. But if you want to rank up or get a badge? Heh, sorry, one-stop shop, no alternatives! The silver coins pour in like water, raking in piles of shiny silver every year!”

Chen Mo quickened his questioning, managing to extract everything he needed before the old mercenary passed out drunk.

“Whose connections? Who knows? Some say it’s the garrison captain’s family, others say the city lord’s wife’s. Either way, it’s gotta be someone big!”

“The mage tower’s annual recruitment? They handle it all. Want to get in with the mage towers? They’re your best bet!”

“Go ask Old Blackhead at Big Foot’s Shop. He should have a way.”

“Yep, he’s an old pal of your grandpa’s. Mention Old John, and he won’t brush you off. Trust me!”

What followed was a whirlwind of maneuvering.

At dawn the next day, Little John knocked on the creaky wooden door of Big Foot’s Shop in the dock district, where a stale smell hung in the air. Old Blackhead, as expected, had some history with Old John. After hearing their purpose, the old man, squinting with bleary eyes and stroking his sparse beard, pointed them in a direction.

“Getting in with the Certification Office? That’s beyond my reach. But… ‘Longface’ Old Charlie should know. That guy’s nickname is ‘Six-Ears Charlie,’ the ultimate busybody!”

Following Chen Mo’s orders, Little John slid a silver coin across. “What should I bring to visit him? I’ll buy it here. You’ve got experience, so please recommend something.”

Old Blackhead thumped his chest. “Leave it to me! I’ll pick something respectable and affordable!”

With gifts in hand, Little John found the slightly sleazy-looking man in a small house in the back alley of the Three-Eyes Tavern in western Qingze City.

Old Charlie tapped ash from his glossy pipe onto his shoe, grinning as he accepted the gifts, revealing a mouthful of yellowed teeth. “The Skill Level Certification Office? That’s big-time folks. Small fry like us don’t get near them. But in this world, with enough money, you can always carve out a path—it just takes effort.”

“I’m not promising results for whatever you’re planning.”

“But a meeting? That I can arrange. Prepare this amount, and I’ll make sure they show up!”

Little John consulted Chen Mo, waiting in the carriage. Chen Mo clapped his hands. “Pay it!”

After pocketing his share, Old Charlie instructed Little John to buy two sets of four bottles of fine liquor. Early the next morning, they headed to Qingze City’s [Packhorse Management Office].

“Third Shed’s Shedmaster Fat Bu, that old drunk loves his liquor but is sharp as a tack. At this hour, he’s definitely in the shed counting inventory!”

“We’ll catch him for sure!”

Sure enough, when presented with the fine liquor, Shedmaster Bu’s ruddy, booze-soaked face broke into a wide grin. He patted his chest, promising, “Small matter! I’m tight with Captain Zhao of the city guard’s patrol team—life-and-death kind of tight! Wait for my good news!”

The good news took two days, costing another two jugs of fine liquor and a pack of premium pastries. Finally, Shedmaster Bu gleefully reported that a meeting was set for a specific time and place with Captain Segg, who’d graciously agreed to a casual meal.

At this level, Little John’s clout wasn’t enough. Chen Mo had to step in himself.

Captain Segg cut an imposing figure, his muscles bulging under the city guard’s standard leather armor. His full beard was neatly trimmed, but his eyes carried a shrewd, merchant-like glint.

Over dinner, he casually chatted with Chen Mo, subtly probing his identity. Chen Mo, with his meticulously crafted backstory, held his own, and the table’s atmosphere grew increasingly lively.

After three rounds of drinks and five dishes, Little John seized the moment, slipping a heavy cloth pouch into Captain Segg’s rough hands. The captain weighed it, his fleshy face breaking into a hearty smile, flashing his signature yellow teeth. The remnants of swallowed meat seemed almost visible in his throat. “Oh, what’s this? We’re friends, friends! This… isn’t necessary!”

Despite his words, the pouch vanished into his bulging belt pouch with startling speed.

“The Certification Office, right? Don’t worry! It’s on me! I’ll arrange it!”

Two more days passed.

Finally, in a discreet yet exquisitely decorated private dining hall in Qingze City, under soft crystal lighting, Chen Mo met the key figure of his mission: Vincent, an influential deputy director of the Skill Level Certification Office and an enchanter.

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