Before Ryan could offer a diplomatic counter-argument regarding the provincial rice tariffs, a nervous magistrate's clerk pushed through the gathering crowd, clutching a thick stack of bamboo slips and an inked tally-board. With an officious flourish, the junior official thrust an unsealed requisition notice into Ryan's field of vision, demanding an immediate, itemized inventory reconciliation for the uncertified silk imports currently clogging the nearby Edo checkpoint corridor. To the clerk's inflamed imagination, the bolts of pale, imported fabric stacked haphazardly against the weathered timber posts carried the grave liability of an unauthorized, off-the-books supply chain violation.
Ryan let out a soft, low sigh, his fingers instinctively adjusting the heavy canvas strap of his messenger bag as if steadying a sliding stack of budget spreadsheets. Treating the sweeping historical indictment with the tired, mild-mannered patience of an events coordinator dealing with a delinquent delivery vendor right before a major product launch, he offered the agitated clerk a placid, apologetic nod. "I can pull the freight manifests from the regional transit folder," Ryan murmured smoothly, his tone entirely level as he tapped the side pouch of his bag where his worn notebook rested, fully prepared to treat the feudal customs seizure like a routine logistics discrepancy that could be cleared with a simple administrative sign-off before midday.