Daylight was blocked by concrete and scrap metal.
Stolen disco balls and screens from a dance hall flickered in the center of the dim clearing.
Syringes, liquor bottles, and pills were scattered messily on a table, but no one was near them.
With a dull thud, a thug’s head was shoved straight into a speaker like a punctured drum, and the noisy accompaniment and the lead singer’s shouting in the venue became hoarse and weak.
Soon, the main melody of the venue became the groans of the thugs lying scattered on the ground.
They writhed like earthworms on concrete under the scorching sun.
The clubs and knives that had been in their hands had fallen aside.
“…”
Laird was curled up on his throne—an old sofa decorated with various posters and weird metal ornaments—at the deepest part of the small kingdom under the viaduct, staring in terror at the three people in front of him.
In just five short minutes, Laird’s “right-hand men” had been beaten to a pulp by these three people.
Let alone the annoyed-looking man and the girl beside him, what terrified him most was the nun, who swung the coffin on her back—taller than her—with such force that it whistled through the air, as if wielding a cardboard box instead of a steel coffin.
That notion shattered when she sent three of his men flying with one blow from the iron coffin.
“What are you here for—”
Laird had intended to shout at them in an imposing tone, but for some reason, what came out was something else.
“What business do you three have with this humble one?”
he asked, forcing a smile.
Better to put aside any thoughts of joining a real gang for now.
The nun was about to speak when the man stopped her with a gesture.
“We want to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Was it you who sent people to trash and riot at the Troken Faith church?”
“Well…”
Laird saw the nun with superhuman strength glaring fiercely at him, and in an instant, his whole body was drenched in sweat.
“I… I was directed by someone. No, I was threatened! That person said if I didn’t do it, he’d make me pay! I had to do it for my brothers…”
Although he always regarded them as “underlings” and “minions,” relationships could be cultivated over time.
Besides, saying he was threatened wasn’t a lie—if he hadn’t agreed to that bald man at the time, he might have been in real danger.
“Oh? Then who directed you?”
The man crossed his arms and asked with interest.
“…If I tell you, can you guarantee they won’t retaliate against me?”
The man looked hesitant.
The nun quickly interjected.
“We can! As long as you sincerely repent and convert…”
“Don’t talk yet.”
The girl covered the nun’s mouth, making a “mmph” sound.
The man sighed.
“Anyway, we’ll take care of this and teach them a lesson. Does that work for you?”
Laird nodded like a bobblehead.
“That day, I was… hanging out at that bar outside.”
He omitted details like taking stimulants and drinking heavily.
Seeing that they didn’t react, he continued boldly.
“I had a few drinks with a girl. She convinced me to buy a bottle, saying it was a cheap special offer. But when the bill came, there were two extra zeros at the end…”
Qiao Anni shook her head.
This kind of scam worked in any era.
“When they saw I couldn’t pay, they surrounded me, saying they’d beat me up and sell me to the Hyena Gang… At that time, I really thought I was done for. But then a bald man came and saved me.”
Laird swallowed.
“That man paid for me and took me to a private room for drinks. He said his name was Adrian King, the boss of Golden Phoenix in the First District.”
“I envied his power and asked if I could work under him. At first he wasn’t too keen, but after hearing I had a group of brothers, he changed his mind.”
“He gave me a chance: do a few jobs for him, and after that, he’d introduce me to his boss.”
“It was a rare opportunity, and he was generous, and the jobs weren’t hard, so I agreed… I didn’t expect it would cause you trouble. I’m very sorry!”
After explaining everything, Laird’s head was almost buried in the concrete floor.
“Golden Phoenix… I think I’ve heard of it.”
The man pondered for a moment, then asked Laird.
“Besides this lady’s church, what else did the bald guy make you do?”
“Well… just trashing shops, dismantling street signs, that kind of thing.”
“What was that for?”
Bres muttered to himself.
“Do you remember the locations where he made you do those things… ah.”
The girl beside him put her hand on the back of her neck, suddenly as if remembering something.
She took a portable terminal from Bres’s pocket and skillfully opened an electronic map.
“Yes.”
“Then mark them on here.”
Laird shakily named the shops, and Qiao Anni marked several red circles on the map.
“Th-that’s all.”
“Good.”
The girl was about to put the terminal back.
“Let’s go… right?”
Laird followed her gaze and saw the man staring at the items on the table.
His expression was much darker than before.
He picked up a syringe from the table as if handling a contaminant.
“What’s this? Ecstasy? The color doesn’t seem right.”
“Ah, that’s the second-generation upgrade, Ecstasy 2.0.”
He quickly explained.
“I specially got it for my brothers. It’s not on the market yet—a trial version. It’s way stronger than the original! I have other sources. Want me to introduce them to you?”
Unfortunately, his flattery backfired.
The man threw the syringe to the ground and crushed it underfoot.
“Huh?”
Laird was at a loss.
“Is that so?”
His voice was ice-cold, without any warmth.
“Then why don’t you explain it to me properly?”
“Huh? Huh???”
Bam!
“AAAAARGH!!!”
A few hours later, a bruised and swollen young man, tied up tightly, appeared at the entrance of the Nightless City police station.
The police found a new type of drug on him and a letter of repentance, roughly saying he had a change of heart and was turning himself in.
The police following up on this lead was a story for later.