Outside the walls of Border Town, the fleeing refugees were being guided by First Army soldiers to undergo an unprecedented identity check.

Barov naturally knew that population was the wealth that Lord Roland valued most. To bring these people back to Border Town, His Highness had spent a great deal of gold royals, even going so far as to send the First Army on an expedition to the royal capital. When the Margaret Chamber of Commerce's bill was placed in front of Barov, he almost dropped his jaw.

Over half a month, the transport fees, shipping costs, grain supply fees, and so on provided by the trading company had added up to more than two thousand gold royals, equivalent to the price of four steam engines. If it hadn't been for the deposit he'd received last month for the remodeling of two sailing ships, this time the financial statement would likely have shown a deficit.

After the refugees were brought back, the tedious and massive task of statistics fell on his shoulders. Almost all the municipal officials and apprentices were dispatched, setting up wooden sheds and passages at the foot of the city wall to classify, count, and record these people. Looking at the refugees slowly passing through the checkpoints in more than a dozen lines, Barov seemed to see a group of moving coins.

Compared to the ordinary civilians' registration area with its long lines, the specialized talent channel he was personally responsible for was much quieter. So far, only fifty or sixty people had passed through.

"I am... a carpenter," a middle-aged man said cautiously as he approached. "I heard that any craftsman can get a residence?"

"That's right," Seni Dali asked. "What's your name? Are you literate?"

This former Knight of the Wolves family was doing well in the Agriculture Department, and at least so far he hadn't made any mistakes. Barov was very satisfied with his ability to judge people. Although this was a population census, there were only so many literate people in the town hall, so he had to pull people from other departments as well.

"Uh... my lord, my name is Maser." The man paused. "I can't read."

"Not even write?"

"No." The middle-aged man lowered his head.

"Okay, a carpenter..." Seni rummaged through a stack of inquiry forms marked with the word "carpenter." "Ah, found it. Let me ask you a few questions."

This preliminary review method was devised by Prince Roland. He gathered craftsmen from various industries together, asking them some professional knowledge and corresponding solutions, and recorded the answers, forming a set of inquiry forms. In this way, as long as you compare the form and ask a few questions during the audit, you can immediately tell whether the other person is lying. The first time he saw this lie detection method, Barov couldn't help but applaud the devil's little tricks. If you don't work in the industry, most civilians won't bother to learn about these things. If someone wants to pretend, just two or three questions will leave them speechless.

"What tool is used to smooth the surface of wood?"

"A... smoothing plane, my lord."

"What are the commonly used saws?"

"Frame saws and rip saws. Hand saws are occasionally used when cutting small pieces."

After a few questions, Maser was able to answer them almost all, and the tone of his speech gradually became smoother.

"Well, it seems you are indeed a carpenter," Seni said, preparing to write down the man's name on the identity registration form when Barov stopped him.

"My lord?"

"Don't be so quick to judge. Take a look at his hands first." He looked at Maser. "Hold out your hands."

Maser was stunned when he heard this, and spread his hands out in confusion—the skin on his palms was extremely rough, the cracked lines were mixed with a lot of dirt, and there were thick calluses under each finger, looking weathered.

"If he were a carpenter, his palms shouldn't be so rough, especially the two pads below the palm, which would become smooth and hard from frequent friction with wood. Also, carpenters often need to use black paint to draw outlines, so their palms would be stained with a lot of hard-to-wash black ink and become dark, not yellow," Barov said calmly. "One more thing, he always looks away first when answering—many people unconsciously show similar expressions when recalling previously unused memories. If he were a carpenter, he should answer very naturally."

"Is... is that so?" Seni widened his eyes.

Barov looked at Maser, who had a surprised expression, and said in a deep voice, "You should have heard the warnings from the First Army soldiers when they gathered you. Any pretense, deception, or refusal to register will be severely punished. You will either be sent to the mines or expelled from the Western Territory. Now, do you still think you are a carpenter?"

"No, my lord, I was wrong!" Maser couldn't help but kneel on the ground. "The carpenter is my neighbor. I just often watch him work from the side!"

"Go line up over there."

Seeing the other party flee in despair, Seni clicked his tongue. "My lord, how do you know these things?"

"During the Months of Demons, I did a population census for His Highness, and I dealt with every carpenter in the town. I just remembered it then," Barov replied, pretending to be casual. Seeing the look of shock and admiration on the knight's face, he felt a surge of pride in his heart.

The devil's methods are clever, but some people will eventually be deceived by them. Only people like himself can fill in the gaps for His Highness.

Moreover, influenced by His Highness, his way of dealing with problems has recently become different from the past... Barov couldn't help but sigh secretly. Such civilians would definitely have been punished with thunderous means in the past to deter those who were eager to make trouble. Now, letting him go directly is probably to save some gold royals for Prince Roland—after all, every refugee is worth a lot. If they don't work for Border Town for more than ten years, it won't be enough to cover the cost of transporting them from thousands of miles away.

When the next refugee passed the professional inquiry, Seni did not register immediately, but turned his gaze to Barov.

He looked the examinee up and down and nodded. "Record it. I'll take him to His Highness."

Passing through the city wall opening, on the other side was the shed set up by Roland Wimbledon, which was also the final review checkpoint.

Here, they would receive His Highness's personal inquiry. If they were proved to be no problem, they could obtain a "Resident ID Card" and become an official resident of Border Town. Currently, housing in the town was tight, and priority could only be given to craftsmen. As for refugees without a skill, they would have to wait another two or three months outside the city walls.

Barov also had an ID card—it was a colored piece of stiff paper, about the size of a palm, with a portrait of him in the upper left corner, looking just like the real thing. His name, address, and number were written in the middle. The back of the paper was printed with the emblem of the Graycastle double guns and His Highness's signature seal. Both the paper itself and the film covering the outside were made of very strange materials. Whether soaked in water or roasted on fire, the ID card could not be damaged in the slightest.

There was no doubt that this thing must have been made by the witch named Soraya. Lord Roland seemed to plan to promote the ID card throughout the town. In the future, whether purchasing food or issuing salaries, it would be necessary to collect it with a certificate.

Since awarding medals to the young lady of the Pine family at the award ceremony, His Highness obviously no longer intended to hide the existence of witches, and Barov no longer wanted to care about who was right and who was wrong between the demons and the church. He even... he secretly began to hope that Lord Roland could defeat the church and completely unify Graycastle.

There was no doubt that the higher the position Lord Roland stood in, the more rewards he would receive.

Of course, there was still a long way to go to this step, which could be considered later. Now that the town's population had exceeded Longsong Stronghold, His Highness had also revealed his city-building plan for next year—once connected to the stronghold, turning most of the Western Territory into a whole, its scale would undoubtedly surpass the royal capital and become the most magnificent city in Graycastle. And as the chief of the Town Hall, what kind of promotion would he receive at that time?

Barov was full of expectations for the future.