Many lights had already been lit in the distance.
After walking a few steps, he passed an alley and caught sight of a clothing shop at the far end.
He suddenly remembered the coarse cloth clothes Phoebe was wearing, and her shoes, which were so large they kept slipping off her feet.
Bringing her along to choose them might be too conspicuous. If anyone noticed them, it would inevitably invite trouble.
He sighed softly, but in the end, he turned into the alley anyway.
Reaching the end of the alley, he saw a few ready-made garments hanging at the shop entrance.
Inside, rolls of fabric and finished clothes were neatly stacked on the shelves.
Bai Xuan pushed the door open and stepped inside, only to see a middle-aged woman wearing an apron sitting behind the counter, stitching a shoe sole.
Seeing a customer enter, she began to force a smile, but when her gaze swept over Bai Xuan's dusty, coarse cloth clothes, most of that smile faded.
“Looking for something?” She sized Bai Xuan up, her tone lukewarm.
Bai Xuan walked up to the counter. Feeling a bit uncomfortable under her scrutiny, he said softly,
“I want to buy some clothes and shoes for my sister.”
Then he gave her a few estimated sizes, which should be fairly close to the mark.
After all, he had been carrying Phoebe and riding together with her the whole way, so he had a rough idea of her waist size and leg length.
The shopkeeper gave a brief reply, stepped out from behind the counter, and led him deeper into the shop.
She thought to herself that this kid looked like a poor peasant, and was probably just buying a single piece of clothing to make his sister happy.
But when Bai Xuan stepped closer to the shelves to inspect the clothes, the shopkeeper's gaze lingered on his face for a moment.
The boy was actually quite handsome; even with his face covered in grime, the dignity in his features could not be hidden.
Thinking this, her tone unconsciously softened a bit.
“This one is cotton, very comfortable to wear. That one is a durable fabric, suitable for daily chores.”
She pointed to several garments on the shelves, casually introducing them to Bai Xuan.
Bai Xuan flipped through the hanging garments and looked at the folded fabrics. Unable to tell the difference in quality, he simply pointed to a few items and said,
“These ones, give me two of each. The same goes for the shoes, two pairs of each style.”
He didn't know what style Phoebe liked, so buying a variety of them ensured she would find something that fit and pleased her.
The shopkeeper froze, looking at him in utter disbelief.
“All of them?”
Unhurriedly, Bai Xuan pulled two gold coins from his vest and placed them gently on the counter.
The shopkeeper's eyes lit up instantly, her face breaking into a wide, beaming smile as her voice rose an octave.
“Yes, yes, of course! Please wait a moment, I'll wrap them up for you right away!”
She nimbly folded the clothes neatly, wrapped them tightly in a bundle cloth, and fished out several pairs of shoes to stuff inside as well.
At the end, she even slipped in a few extra undergarments, saying with a smile,
“These are on the house.”
Bai Xuan didn't look closely, casually taking the bundle.
Carrying the bundle out of the shop, Bai Xuan finally let out a soft sigh of relief.
He secretly felt that buying clothes for a girl was actually more exhausting than getting into a physical fight.
As Bai Xuan walked through the alley carrying the bundle, he casually stored it into his Space Ring. By now, the sky had turned completely pitch-black.
Most of the shops on the street had already closed, leaving only a few streetlamps swaying gently in the wind.
He turned down two streets and headed straight in the direction of the Grimy Hand Gang.
Carson should still be hiding in that basement.
Security had been tight these past few days, making it impossible for him to escape on his own.
With the elites of the Grimy Hand Gang deployed tonight, it was the perfect opportunity to get him out.
The alley was extremely narrow, bordered on both sides by pitch-black walls without a single speck of light.
Bai Xuan walked slowly. As he neared the exit of the alley, footsteps suddenly sounded ahead.
Bai Xuan paused in his tracks, quickly leaning against the wall. He lowered his head slightly, doing his best to conceal his aura.
Two people walked over from the opposite direction.
The one leading wore a mage robe and gold-rimmed glasses. The firelight from the alley entrance reflected off his lenses, making it impossible to see his eyes.
When Bai Xuan recognized that face, his heart couldn't help but sink.
It was Ronid, the Mage of the Silver Heart Adventure Team. They had met once before in the dungeon.
At that time, the jumble of incomprehensible status tags on Ronid's status panel had been far too twisted.
Bai Xuan lowered his head even further, slightly hunched his shoulders, and slowed his pace, pretending to be an ordinary civilian traveling at night.
When the two passed each other, Ronid's pace didn't falter in the slightest.
Just as Bai Xuan let out half a sigh of relief, the footsteps behind him suddenly stopped.
Immediately after, a cold gaze locked onto him.
He didn't look back, maintaining a steady pace as he walked forward, neither too fast nor too slow, fearing he might show even the slightest flaw.
The gaze from behind felt like a nail driven into his spine, making him feel entirely uneasy.
Only after a few seconds did the footsteps behind him resume, gradually fading into the distance.
Bai Xuan took the opportunity to slip into a nearby side alley, leaning against the cold wall for a good while.
Only after confirming that no one was following him did he let out a long, heavy sigh of relief.
He looked down at his coarse clothes, then touched the dried mud on his face, feeling secretly relieved.
Dressed like this, even Mora and Lorrain would have to look closely to recognize him. Ronid shouldn't have recognized him either.
Yet, the lingering chill of being watched still left him with a sense of dread.
Right now in Blackcreek Town, he couldn't trust anyone besides Mora and Lorrain.
Any extra attention from anyone could expose him, and once exposed in the heart of enemy territory, the consequences would be disastrous.
Composing himself, Bai Xuan turned and plunged deeper into the alleys, continuing toward his destination.
...
The night had grown completely dark. In the alleys of the slums, only a scattering of oil lamps flickered stubbornly.
The firelight flickered in the wind, stretching the shadows of the dilapidated shacks long and distorted, casting mottled, bizarre shapes across the ground.
At the stronghold of the Grimy Hand Gang at the end of the alley, several thug leaders were gathered around a broken table, arguing endlessly.
The table was missing a leg, propped up precariously with half a brick.
Sprawled across it were a few dirty sheets of paper with blurry handwriting that no one could decipher.
“The boss is dead! By seniority, I should be the one to take over!”
A burly man with a fleshy face slammed his hand onto the table, spraying spit onto the paper, his tone completely overbearing.
A hideous scar over his left eye split his eyebrow in two, and his wide, furious eyes made him look even more ferocious.
“You? Worthy?”
The tall, thin man opposite him sneered, tapping his fingers lazily against the edge of the table with a tone full of mockery.
“Last time we collected protection fees, you hid at the very back of the line. Now that it's time to snatch the boss's seat, you run faster than anyone else?”
“Stop arguing!”
The third to speak was a short, fat man. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an inexplicable authority.
The argument at the table instantly fell quiet for a moment.
He squinted his small eyes and spoke slowly.
“The rules of our streets are simple: whoever has the hardest fist calls the shots. The old way—we fight, and the winner becomes the boss.”
“Then let's fight! Who's afraid of who!”
Scarface rolled up his sleeves, revealing a fierce tattoo on his arm, looking eager to go.
The tall, thin man took half a step back, a fleeting look of wariness crossing his eyes.
His expression shifted slightly, but he still maintained his tough front.
“Let's do it then. You think I'm scared of a coward like you?”
Just as the short, fat man was about to set the rules for the match, a noisy commotion suddenly echoed from outside the stronghold.
Cries, pleas, and the sounds of shoving drifted in sporadically.
Carson stood at the back of the crowd, quietly leaning closer to the base of the wall.
He had been mingling with the Grimy Hand Gang for some time now, and knew their nature all too well.
Bullying the weak while fearing the strong, always looking to stir up trouble out of nothing.
Hearing the commotion outside, he knew it was just civilians coming to beg for help, and his heart didn't waiver in the slightest.
Sure enough, the door was violently kicked open the next second, and several ragged, gaunt civilians were shoved inside by the thugs.
Leading them was a skeletal, middle-aged man.
He clutched a tattered bundle tightly in his arms, followed by two women whose eyes were red from crying, their faces filled with despair.
“Masters, please, I beg of you...”
The middle-aged man fell to his knees with a thud. He didn't even bother to pick up the bundle that fell from his arms as his voice choked up.
“My child is gone. It's been three whole days, and I've searched the entire slums but couldn't find him.”
“And old Sean's girl, and Kaxiu's little girl... Over the past few days, several children have gone missing.”
He repeatedly kowtowed, his forehead quickly turning bright red from the impact.
“Please help us find them. You have so much influence in the slums, you can definitely find the children...”
Scarface was already pent up with anger from the fight over the boss's seat.
Seeing this, he immediately kicked the middle-aged man to the ground and barked,
“Get lost! This isn't a charity! You lost your kid and you come to us? Don't you have your own legs to go look?”
The tall, thin man also stepped forward, adding in a sarcastic tone,
“When we collect protection fees, you lot drag your feet. Now that you've paid a few coins, you think you're some kind of royalty?”
“What do you think our Grimy Hand Gang is? A babysitting service to find your lost kids?”
One of the kneeling women couldn't help but burst into tears, her voice trembling as she pleaded,
“Masters, we didn't mean that... We really have nowhere else to turn.”
“The children are disappearing one after another. We've been searching for days... Right now, only you can help us...”
The short, fat man frowned, but remained silent throughout.
Scarface cursed impatiently again, gesturing to his men to drag them out.
The middle-aged man struggled to climb up and roared,
“You can't do this! When you took our money, you promised us that we could come to you if anything happened!”
“Now that we're in trouble, you just turn a blind eye? Where is the justice in this!”
“Justice?”
The tall, thin man sneered, drawing a short club from behind his waist and slamming it onto the table.
“In these slums, the word of the Grimy Hand Gang is justice! Keep babbling, and we'll throw you all out to feed the dogs!”
Several thugs immediately stepped forward, grabbing the civilians off the ground and dragging them outside.
The women's crying grew more distant, gradually swallowed by the wind in the depths of the alley until it vanished completely.
Carson leaned against the base of the wall, preparing to turn back to his spot, when footsteps sounded from outside the stronghold once more.
Scarface had just sat down when he suddenly stood up again, grumbling and complaining.
“Again? Are these peasants never going to end?”
The door was pushed open slightly, and a lackey poked half his body inside. With a look of panic on his face, he swallowed hard and said,
“Bosses, another peasant has come outside. He looks... looks a bit strange.”
The tall, thin man sneered, his tone dismissive.
“What else could he be here for? Probably looking for a kid too. Drive him away quickly.”
“Don't bring just any random stray here. You're wasting our time.”
The short, fat man waved his hand, gesturing for the lackey to handle it outside, but the lackey remained frozen in place, his face turning even more frantic.
“He refuses to leave, and... and he's heading straight this way.”
Scarface frowned, looking utterly impatient.
“He's just a peasant. What's there to be afraid of?”
“Come on, let's go out and see. Might as well use this chance to warm up, so we don't lack energy for the duel later.”
A crowd of thugs filed out, surrounding the three leaders.
Carson quietly followed at the very back, leaning against the doorframe and looking out along with everyone's gaze.
Standing in the clearing was a person wearing dusty, coarse clothes.
His face was covered in grime, obscuring his exact age, but his posture was exceptionally straight.
Even standing on the muddy ground, he remained calm and unyielding, exuding an indescribable presence.
Carson squinted his eyes and watched him for a couple of seconds, instinctively feeling that this man was hiding something, though he couldn't put his finger on it.
Scarface stepped forward, sizing up the man from head to toe as profanity spilled from his mouth.
“Hey, beggar! This isn't a place for the likes of you!”
“Go look for your kid somewhere else. We aren't a charity. Beat it before you make me angry!”
The man stood in place, completely motionless and silent.
He simply looked quietly at the surrounding thugs one by one, his gaze calm without a single ripple of emotion.
The tall, thin man followed behind, and seeing the man ignore them, he added in a sarcastic tone,
“Did you hear that? Are you deaf or mute? Our boss told you to get lost, didn't you hear him?”
Carson felt a faint sense of unease in his heart, but didn't dwell on it.
These thugs were already hot-headed today; this ignorant peasant was probably about to suffer.
He quietly took half a step back, planning to leave.
Yet the peasant remained completely still, his eyes still devoid of any emotion.
It was as if the crowd of thugs before him were nothing but thin air.
Scarface's pride was instantly wounded, and a wave of fury rushed to his head.
He took a large stride forward, reaching out to shove the man's shoulder as he cursed,
“Dammit, how dare you ignore me when I'm talking to you—”
Before his hand could even touch the corner of the man's clothes, the man finally moved.
His movement was lightning-fast; no one could see how he struck.
There was only a dull, heavy thud as Scarface's body doubled over and flew backward.
He slammed hard against the wall, slid down to the ground, and lay there completely motionless, silent.
The noise in the clearing ground to a sudden halt.
The tall, thin man froze on the spot, his mouth hanging slightly open as disbelief filled his eyes.
The short, fat man also took a step back, his face instantly twisting in suspicion and deep fear.
“Take him down! Kill him!”
Someone shouted.
The remaining crowd of thugs finally snapped out of it, howling as they brandished their fists and charged forward.
Rate on N.U.
