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This way, there's no need to worry too much.
"Tewin, where are Weidingled and the others?"
"They... they're receiving goods in the warehouse..."
The tone of this young Native American man became somewhat unnatural when talking about receiving goods.
"What goods? Tell them to come see me immediately!"
The National Tax Bureau's armed forces had made a fully-armed appearance here, clearly aimed at Dieter. He needed to gather the tribe's leadership to figure out how to deal with the situation.
About 1 kilometer away from the Chieftain's Manor, in a warehouse.
Two trucks were parked there, while a dozen or so young Native Americans continuously moved crates of sealed items from the trucks and into the warehouse.
In the warehouse's rest area, a man with a slicked-back hairdo and sunglasses sat leisurely with his legs crossed, drinking a type of tea unique to Native Americans.
Opposite him sat Tewin and a square-faced Native American man.