Chapter 1202: The Stick Insect of the Sacred Night Capital (8)

"Are you actually interested in resting at Moxie's place?"

A moment later, out on the neon-lit street, Yuan Shan gave Fu Qian a strange look.

"Why wouldn't I be? I could tell Miss Moxie's invitation was genuine."

He looked as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Her bartending is pretty good, too!"

Just like last time, they had visited her friend Moxie's bar, had a drink, and obtained an identical list.

Fu Qian naturally didn't need the list, but since he was currently operating with Yuan Shan's "help," he needed it to maintain appearances.

"She's just an ordinary person, raising two children on her own."

Faced with his answer, Yuan Shan hesitated for a few seconds before sighing.

"Saying things like that will easily lead to misunderstandings."

Fu Qian blinked, his smile mysterious.

"Would you misunderstand?"

Yuan Shan showed no trace of worry. "I wouldn't."

Fu Qian gave her an appreciative look.

Her previous comment could easily be misconstrued as her simply not wanting Moxie to get too close to him out of personal dislike.

But to believe that would be severely underestimating a regional Chief of the Night Watchers.

What seemed like petty gossip about a friend was actually a warning: Moxie was just someone trying hard to make a living, and a dangerous element like him needed to keep his distance.

He could mess around all he wanted, but the slightest collateral damage would instantly vaporize the life she had worked so hard to build.

So, the true meaning behind her words was a plea for him to stay away from Moxie.

A difference in priorities meant a completely different intention.

Even though she had worn a look of disdain the entire time, she was actually a very good friend.

Knowing her words might be misunderstood, she was still willing to risk it to give him that warning.

"I can see you really don't hold any prejudice against her. So why did you refuse her hat?"

Over drinks, Moxie had once again shared her regret that her good friend refused to accept her handmade gift.

"It doesn't go with my outfits!"

Chief Yuan answered the question without a second thought.

An unexpected, yet entirely convincing answer.

Fu Qian marveled inwardly. Considering Chief Yuan's usual demeanor, he didn't doubt it for a second.

"So we start at the biggest casino? Surely those gamblers can't all be missing."

After answering, Yuan Shan clearly felt they had strayed off topic and immediately proposed their next move.

A reasonable inference, but theoretically, Alan should have already gone to The Club by now.

Fu Qian thought to himself.

Finding Alan directly and then using Sharman to draw out Ross was clearly a more efficient way to transition from the losers' bracket to the main event, and the logic wasn't too forced.

After all, a full belly bred lustful thoughts; looking for a newly wealthy gambler at a strip club made perfect sense.

The only problem was that he hadn't yet delivered Brother Moglin's thank-you gift to Midas. Making a lady pay for his strip club expenses would be a bit too improper, so—

"Agreed."

Fu Qian nodded.

From the Church to the casino, the two of them once again walked the gamblers' path to redemption.

"Moglin?"

A moment later, in a resplendent corner of the casino, Yuan Shan sat down with a smile.

Unsurprisingly, thanks to Fu Qian's seamless deflection, she was once again taking the lead.

And the target of her greeting was naturally the triumphant Brother Moglin.

"Yeah."

He didn't disappoint. Catching a glimpse of the visitor out of the corner of his eye, his spirits immediately lifted and he turned to look.

"And how may I address you, miss?"

"If possible, could I ask you a question?"

Hmm?

To Chief Yuan, such scrutiny was naturally quite impolite.

However, just as the dedicated chief patiently prepared to introduce herself, Fu Qian stepped forward and asked his question with a smile.

"You've been having pretty good luck—"

This impolite interruption clearly displeased Moglin. He sneered and shot Fu Qian a glare, his attitude even worse than last time.

"I'm in a very good mood right now, so I'm not answering any ques—"

Unfortunately, before he could finish, a flash of silver-white in his peripheral vision forced a rapid change of heart.

"Sorry—how about I treat you both to a drink over there?"

Taking a second, disbelieving look to confirm his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, Moglin weighed his options for a few seconds before sitting up straight.

"Mr. Moglin is too kind!"

Although she found Fu Qian's overly aggressive approach a bit strange, Yuan Shan was quite satisfied with how decisively he had settled the matter, and offered an elegant pleasantry.

But despite her radiant smile, Moglin—who had just been asking for her name—now sat with a neck as stiff as poured concrete, not daring to spare her another glance.

"Are you two here to ask about Midas?"

After carefully taking a seat off to the side, Moglin took the initiative to ask, eager to demonstrate his cooperation.

"That's right. How did you know?"

Yuan Shan waited a few seconds. Realizing that Fu Qian had fallen silent after flashing his weapon, she embraced her role as the mouthpiece and asked the question.

"Because almost everyone looking for me recently is here for the exact same reason!"

Even so, facing the swaying muzzle of the gun in Fu Qian's hand, Moglin didn't dare breathe a sigh of relief.

Instead, he swiftly shared his information.

Including details about the ultimate lucky winner, Alan.

"Alan..."

Yuan Shan repeated the name, lost in thought.

Since this information perfectly matched what Moxie had given her, it held a certain degree of credibility.

She glanced at Fu Qian, wondering if he was interested in taking a trip to a certain strip club.

"Let me confirm something. Is this Alan around thirty years old, blond, and fond of eating while gambling?"

Fu Qian ignored her, instead looking squarely at Moglin to ask the question.

'That's completely wrong, isn't it?' Yuan Shan frowned inwardly. This obviously didn't match the information Moxie had provided.

'Is he deliberately giving a fake description to see if this guy is being honest?'

That was her immediate conclusion.

"No—Alan is a bit older, with messy brown hair and a rather sickly pale face."

It seemed Moglin had the exact same thought. He subtly wiped his sweat and carefully explained.

"I see."

Fu Qian let out a soft "oh" and said nothing more, continuing to stare absentmindedly at the gun in his hand.

"—The person you're describing sounds like a scoundrel named Ross. He hangs around this area a lot, too."

Seeing his silence, Moglin carefully reflected on his own answer, doing his best to provide more information.

"Ross, huh..."

Fu Qian nodded slightly, saying no more as the muzzle in his hand continued to sway.

"—I remember now! If you two are looking for Midas, I actually have a favor to ask." Moglin acted as if he had suddenly recalled something, slapped his forehead, and pushed forward half the chips resting by his hand.