The storehouse road narrows into blackness, damp earth underfoot and rotting timber close on both sides. Ahead, a lone silhouette waits by stacked crates, still as a marker stone. The bell tolls again, slow and distant.
Reina
That one is no mere porter. He stands like a sentry, and he is watching the road, not the gate.
The figure shifts, one hand closing around a wrapped packet. A lantern glow leaks through a crack in the crates, revealing a glint of wet seal wax.
Arimari Tiarasan
The packet is fresh. He is waiting for someone to claim it.
The Hooded Courier
Too late to turn back. If you have the ledger, step out and show it.
At the far edge of the crates, a second shape stirs behind a rain-soaked post, half-hidden from the road. Whoever arranged this exchange wants witnesses split and confused, not a clean handoff. The Takeda trail has led straight to a trap, and the next answer may be written on the courier's seal.
Identify the man with the scarred throat
Claim the ledger