Chapter 593: Summit Talks

Chapter 593 -592: Summit Talks

“That’s why I find you so strange. To think a native of Thousand Masts City would keep a Half-Orc and a Half-Demon as companions, not to mention a Dwarf who looks an awful lot like one of the Gray Dwarves.”

Don smiled. “Well, let’s get back on topic. Back then, we southerners started banding together for warmth. One day, I stumbled upon the local gangs’ smuggling routes. I started using that information to threaten the locals so they wouldn’t dare bully us. It turned out to be a pretty effective trick, so I’ve been using it for a few decades.”

“So, is the Hundred Eyes Gang still mostly made up of southerners now?”

“Now it’s mostly the poor.” Don swirled the wine in his glass. “Besides, ‘Don’ actually means ‘sir’ or ‘lord’ in the south. Most locals don’t know that. When they saw other Moran People calling me that, they just assumed it was part of my name.”

“So you just started calling yourself Don?”

“There aren’t many other famous Moran People in this city besides me,” Don said with a smile. “If a rising star comes along later, I’d be more than happy to give up the name.”

They chatted for a little while longer before the bumpy carriage suddenly came to a halt.

There were two soft knocks on the front wall of the carriage, followed by a voice. “We’re here, boss.”

“I know, Nico.”

With that, Don opened the door and stepped out of the carriage.

Colin followed close behind.

Stepping out, he saw they were in a small alley in the Dock District.

But even though Colin had once worked as a docker, he didn’t think he’d ever been to this place.

At the end of the alley was a small, dark door with a tavern sign hanging above it.

The building itself was Ordinary; if not for the sign, it would have been indistinguishable from its surroundings.

The entire alley was empty, but Colin could still feel someone’s eyes on him. ‘Still, if I can feel them, it means the ones watching in secret aren’t very skilled,’ he thought.

Don strode toward the tavern at the end of the alley, with Colin still following him.

After the two got out, the coachman called Nico immediately drove the carriage away.

They quickly entered the tavern.

The first floor of this tavern was much like any other in the world. It was filled with tables and chairs, with a counter at the back of the room. Behind the counter was a rack holding a large number of barrels.

A few patrons were scattered about the main hall in small groups. Judging by their attire, they didn’t seem to be gang members.

Colin followed Don, taking in his surroundings as he went.

They came to a staircase in the corner of the hall and walked up. At the top of the stairs stood two fully-armed Half-Orcs, each about half a head shorter than Kase.

After they reached the top, a one-eyed Gnome came over. He said in a shrill voice, “You know the rules. Only a Dagger is allowed inside, respected Don.”

Don glanced back, and Colin unstrapped Burning Blood from his waist and handed it to one of the Half-Orcs.

Once that was done, the two walked between the Half-Orcs into the entryway behind them, then passed through it to reach the innermost room.

The room was quite large. In the middle stood a long, dark brown table. On it were several plates of fruit and bread, as well as a number of brown glass bottles filled with wine.

At this moment, eight people in various kinds of attire were already seated on one side of the long table.

A veiled elderly woman, a gaunt man in a black robe, a Halfling with a crooked jaw…

‘These bizarre characters must be the gang leaders of Thousand Masts City.’

Colin noticed a human man in his fifties among them. The man had bronze skin and was wearing a cotton jacket.

He was the boss of the Sea Otter Gang. Most of its members were dockers, and Colin used to have to pay them protection money when he worked at the docks.

There was also a middle-aged man in a woolen overcoat. He had a round face, a shaved head, and a fleshy, menacing mug full of pockmarks.

Colin glanced at the red trim on the man’s coat cuffs.

‘This man is the leader of the Blood Hand Gang,’ he thought. ‘Back when I lived in the slums, I had a bit of an unpleasant run-in with them.’

At the same time, the gang leaders each had their own bodyguards standing behind them. These bodyguards certainly looked like hardened veterans who had seen their share of bloodshed.

Upon seeing Don, the leader of the Blood Hand Gang pulled out the chair next to him and said with a smile, “Have a seat, my dear Don. You didn’t run into any City Guards on the way, did you?”

“No.” Don sat in the chair the man had pulled out. “Thank you, Rom.”

“Looks like we’re finally on the same side today, Don,” shouted the leader of the Sea Otter Gang from the other side of the table.

Don turned his body to face the man and gave a slight nod. “It’s my honor,” he said politely.

The others also gave Don slight nods as a form of greeting. After that, the gang leaders started chatting about odd trivialities. Most of it was just recent news from the papers; no one mentioned anything related to gang territory.

Meanwhile, none of them touched the food or drink on the table.

Colin stood silently behind Don, not saying a word, just like the other bodyguards.

About ten minutes passed.

A set of footsteps sounded from outside the door, and the chattering gang leaders instantly fell silent.

Then, several fair-skinned people from the North walked in.

The one in the lead was nearly as tall as Kase. He had to duck his head to get through the door, and one look was enough to tell he had the blood of the Northern Barbarians.

His face was weathered by wind and snow, and a vicious scar ran across his left cheek. He wore a gray-black fur vest over a Chain Armor Shirt.

Following behind him was a woman with a buzz cut wearing a cotton jacket, and also the Northern Faction’s strategist whom Colin had met before, Karen Sote.

Colin had a strong impression of the man, who had once invited him for a chat in a restaurant and shown an interest in recruiting him.

The three of them walked to the opposite side of the long table, pulled out chairs, and sat down.

The other three must have been their bodyguards. Like Colin and the others, they stood behind their respective charges, carefully surveying their surroundings.

The lighting in the room wasn’t very good.

The light from the candelabra chandelier flickered constantly, hiding everyone’s eyes in shadow. One could only vaguely make out dark pupils shifting in their sockets.

After a short while, someone else walked in from outside… a Drow?

When he first saw the person, Colin thought his eyes were deceiving him.

But it was indeed a male Drow with medium-short hair who entered.

This Drow was powerfully built. He wore a suit of Leather Armor, and at his waist hung two Scimitars and a Flintlock Pistol. His movements were remarkably sharp and efficient.