Chapter 589: Gang Trouble

Chapter 589 -588: Gang Trouble

「The next morning.」

“Yikes!”

Colin, fast asleep, was jolted awake by a piercing shriek.

He opened his eyes to find a plump, grey rat standing beside his pillow.

The rat’s tiny chest heaved rapidly. Its beady black eyes were fixed on something across from it, and it looked terrified.

Colin glanced over his shoulder. The creature was staring at the little owl perched on the headboard. The owl, however, paid it no mind, remaining perfectly calm.

“Don’t worry, it’s my familiar,” Colin said, sitting up. He looked at the rat. “Is there a task?”

“A fa-familiar? Human contraptions…” the rat muttered, before hurriedly squeaking, “Hundred Eyes Gang, Hundred Eyes Gang! Go to the Hundred Eyes Gang, yes, yes!”

With that, the rat scurried into the washroom and vanished without a sound, disappearing to who-knows-where.

Colin reached out and scratched the owl’s head.

The little creature closed its eyes and silently leaned its head into Colin’s touch.

‘Who knew having a familiar would also scare away the messenger rats? Now I won’t have to break off pieces of bread for them every time.’ Colin mused as he sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Since the message is from the Hundred Eyes Gang, it must be about gang business…’

‘I just hope this task is simple and doesn’t involve too much trouble.’

To Colin, Thousand Masts City was a place he could actually relax. He had no desire to be constantly on edge within the city walls, watching out for sneak attacks from gang members.

It wasn’t that the gang posed any real threat to him anymore; it was just a hassle.

After washing up and donning his Armor, Colin pushed open his apartment door.

As he pushed the door open, he called out, “Ale, I have to make a trip to the Hundred Eyes Gang.”

“Is it a task?”

Just as he expected, Ale’s voice came from across the hall.

“Yeah, probably gang-related,” Colin sighed. “Want to come with me?”

“Of course. Are we still getting wraps, then?”

“If you’re tired of them, we could get some sailor’s hash instead,” Colin said, heading downstairs with Ale right behind him.

The two of them walked along the main road toward the Dock District.

Thousand Masts City had no curfew, so the Halfling restaurants were often busy late into the night. As a result, mornings in the Trade District were much quieter than in the Dock District.

Only the Dwarves who lived there stuck to their old habits, waking up at the same time each day to either start clanging away at their anvils or loudly hawk their wares.

Supposedly, this was why the Halflings and Dwarves in Thousand Masts City never got along very well—each ruined the other’s sleep schedule.

Colin wasn’t one to judge.

After all, jokes about Dwarves were popular far beyond Thousand Masts City; it was hard to say who the real culprits were.

As they walked, Colin stole a glance at Ale’s profile.

He remembered how he used to get nervous when they went out alone together. That feeling was completely gone now.

After living together for so long, they had both fully adapted to each other’s pace and routines.

Following the main road into the Dock District, Colin led Ale to a food cart near one of the piers.

The cart was clearly popular. A dozen or so dockworkers in short-sleeved shirts were already lined up in front of it.

The workers were rather fair-skinned, suggesting they were from the North. They all looked exhausted, likely from the strenuous labor.

As the two of them got in line, the worker at the very end silently stepped aside. “You, uh… after you, Mr. Big.”

Colin waved him off. “We’re fine waiting our turn.”

A short while later, they reached the front of the cart.

“Two sailor’s hashes,” Colin said, handing over eight Copper Coins.

The owner behind the cart nodded, taking the coins and wiping his hands on his greasy apron.

The owner deftly cracked two eggs onto his griddle, then tossed on two pats of butter, each about the size of a pinky nail.

Once the butter melted, he added two large spoonfuls of mashed potatoes and two scoops of corned beef to the griddle. He mixed them together, fried them for a moment, then used a spatula to transfer the potato and beef mixture onto a sheet of wax paper, topping it with a fried egg.

He finished it off with some shredded pickled cucumbers, shredded beets, and a piece of black bread before handing the food to them.

Food in hand, Colin led Ale toward the city outskirts. They both took out their personal Small Knives and ate as they walked.

He first broke the runny yolk of his fried egg, letting it ooze into the beef and potato hash below. After eating the egg white in one bite, he alternated between mouthfuls of hash and bites of pickled cucumber.

The high-calorie beef and potatoes were perfectly balanced by the sharp, refreshing cucumber. They finished their meal in no time.

After they finished eating, Ale cleaned her hands with a bit of Casting, then took four Copper Coins from her pouch and handed them to Colin.

“You know, I could have treated you,” Colin said.

“I have money, Colin,” Ale replied bluntly.

Seeing her insistence, Colin didn’t press the issue and silently took the Copper Coins.

The two then made their way to the barbershop in the slums outside the city.

The barbershop was occupied by the same owner and a few burly men. When they saw Colin and Ale arrive, the men rose, moved to a small door on the far side of the room, and said respectfully, “Please, come in, Mr. Colin.”

“Do you still need to escort me?” Colin asked.

The owner shook his head. “You’re an important partner now. We trust you completely.”

Colin gave a noncommittal nod and led Ale down the secret passage to the room at the end, moving with a practiced familiarity.

The room’s furnishings were identical to his last visit. Even the bodyguards seemed to be standing in the exact same spots, as if they were motionless statues.

The master of the Hundred Eyes Gang, Don Vincenzo Greco, was seated in the chair at the head of the long table. He was leaning back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

When he saw Colin enter, the old man turned his head. He wore a friendly smile, no different from that of any other old man on the street.

“Ah, Colin, my friend!” he said cheerfully. “I knew it would be you.”

“You helped me out with that missing person case last time,” Colin said. “So, what’s the trouble?”

“It’s not trouble, precisely,” the Don said, his expression calm. “There’s a banquet I must attend soon, and I need a bodyguard who can guarantee I’ll come back alive. I can think of no one more suitable for the job than you.”