Chapter 39
The Gangs of the East District
Chapter 39 The Gangs of the East District
Hugh forced a smile: "Maybe, maybe it's a mole from the mob."
"You may not know this, but the gang's informants are always watching strangers who come to the East District."
Hobart, however, said, "It's better to be careful. Hmm, we'll turn into the next intersection, find a place to hide, catch the follower, and interrogate him about whose men he is."
"There's absolutely no need for that," Hugh said with a chuckle. "Don't worry, most of the gangsters in the East District know me. Nobody dares to do anything to us!"
Hobart, however, cautioned, "But we were just blackmailed yesterday."
"Hehehe." Hugh was almost sweating with anxiety: "That's because Darkholm has just become the boss and hasn't dealt with me yet."
Hobart, noticing Hugh's unnatural expression, nodded thoughtfully. "I think I understand."
Last night, when dividing the spoils with Hugh, Hobart trusted Hugh quite a lot because he knew Hugh's character from the original books and had a fairly good understanding of him.
But he overlooked one thing: Hugh might not trust him.
In Hugh's eyes, for safety's sake, it was necessary to guard against Hobart doing something illegal and immoral for the sake of £1600.
Hobart offered no explanation, believing that Hugh would know his credibility in a few days, and that only after this incident could the two build sufficient trust.
We soon arrived at 56 Gaspin Avenue, an ordinary East End residential building. It looked dilapidated and dirty, with peeling paint in many places.
The two arrived at room 303. Everyone had gone to work by then, so Hobert and Hugh simply broke down the door again.
Just as Hobart had predicted last night, there were only a few somewhat dirty work clothes here, and it looked like no one had lived here for a long time.
This might be one of Hyman's small outposts, where he could change clothes and carry out his operations in the East District at his leisure.
After realizing they hadn't found anything, the two went to the Cuckoo Bar. Darkholm wasn't there, but his men immediately recognized Hobert and Hugh.
In an instant, the seven or eight thugs were like rats whose nests had been discovered, using every means possible to scatter and escape from the various exits of the bar.
Hugh kicked one of the fleeing thugs to the ground, threatened him a couple of times, and the thug immediately agreed to take them to their boss.
Darkholm's lodgings were much better than Weir's; at least they were clean, tidy, and odorless.
Upon seeing Hobert and Hugh, Darkholm, leaning on his crutches, tried to run away.
Hugh said coldly, "Should I break your other leg too?"
Darkholm stopped immediately, his face beaming with a friendly smile: "How can I help you two?"
Seeing that Darkholm was at least sensible, Hobart gestured towards the door without any regard for gentlemanly decorum: "Aren't you going to invite us in for a cup of tea?"
Darkholm: "It is my honor."
He led the way while directing his subordinates to boil water and make tea.
Clearly, Darkholm is someone who knows how to enjoy life. His house has a living room and a bedroom, and the decor is quite nice; it doesn't look like it's in the East End.
Hobert plopped down on the sofa and tossed the letter from his arms to Darkholm: "Read it yourself."
Darkholm immediately had a bad feeling. He skipped over to the letter on the table, glanced at it a few times, and his face changed drastically: "This, this is a letter from Boss Zachary!"
Hobart said casually, "Sorry, I made a mistake, this is the one."
He threw the letter Darkholm had written to Hyman onto the table, and Darkholm only glanced at the envelope before collapsing onto the sofa.
Darkholm's smile vanished, and he asked with a mournful expression, "Mr. Hyman has been captured?"
Hobart mumbled, "I think you'll be the real boss of Azalea Bar from now on."
Instead of being happy, Darkholm was somewhat worried: "Then, that Zachary..."
This time, Hobart spoke with certainty: "You'll never see him again."
Darkholm leaned back on the sofa, and after a long pause, asked, "What do you two want from me?"
"I want you to tell me how you met Hyman, and why you obey Hyman's orders?"
"Sir, I have no choice," Darkholm said with a wry smile. "As far as I know, every bar in the East End has some mysterious backers behind it."
"They have ambassadors from various countries, noble lords, people from the highlands, and even landlords from the southern continent."
The "highland people" he referred to were the arid highlands at the beginning of the Hornachis Mountains, where the people were brave and skilled in battle, and for a long time they had been one of the most troublesome problems for the Kingdom of Rune.
With the improvement of gunpowder weapons over the past century or two, these highland talents were completely subdued. Some of them joined Backlund, and because of their ruthlessness and violence, they quickly became a distinctive gang in the East End.
Darkholm shrugged. "Too many people in the East End have lost hope in life. They're perfect as spies or assassins. Who could refuse such cheap, fearless warriors?"
He said, "Nobody knows who owns the Azalea Bar, but Zachary has been the bar's boss for a long time."
"Before Boss Zachry left, he took me to meet Mr. Hyman, and that's when I learned that Mr. Hyman was the real boss behind the bar."
"I was more like working for Mr. Hyman, gathering intelligence for him, running the bar's black market, and handing over most of the bar's profits to Mr. Hyman."
"I once tried to falsify the accounts and pocket a portion of the profits, but Mr. Hyman immediately discovered my trick and almost broke my right leg."
Of course he'd be seen through; Hyman is a master of deception!
Hobart nodded; no wonder he'd noticed Darkholm's right leg looked injured yesterday. "I'd also like to know more about Hyman's hiding place."
He said, half-jokingly, "We destroyed several places, but we didn't find what we were looking for."
Darkholm immediately replied, "56 Gaspin Street! I go there every week to hand in the bar's books and revenue."
Hobart shook his head: "We just came from there."
Hugh, who had been yawning since she entered, immediately perked up when she saw Hobart's bad tone. Finally, it was time for her favorite part: the interrogation.
Darkholm panicked slightly: "I... I only know that one place."
Hobart calmly took out materials such as "Holy Night Powder" and "Amanda" hydrosol from his pocket: "I know a potion that can make your mind as muddled as paste. If I take the opportunity to throw out a question at that time, you will definitely answer it honestly."
"But unfortunately, from now on your thinking will remain chaotic, and you'll become a madman!"
Hugh kept Hobart's words in mind. It must be said that Hobart's method of interrogation was very innovative and greatly enhanced Hugh's violent aesthetics when facing criminals.
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The author lives in one of the "Porcelain Capitals" in the north. Today, a friend came to me to buy a ceramic vase, so I took him to the market. This was the first time I visited a ceramic market this year, and I was surprised to find so many shops closed. I wonder how long this slump will last.
(End of this chapter)