Labor Mutual Aid Society

Angel took the Public Carriage to the Docklands.

Though it was called a "district," much of it actually lay in Tingen City's outskirts. The Tassok River and Hoi River converged outside the city before flowing toward Backlund. Vast numbers of passenger and cargo ships traveled downstream, rapidly developing the docks on Tingen City's outskirts until they showed signs of merging with the urban area.

Before she boarded, Klein was still making one last effort.

"Do you really not need me to come with you?"

At the time, Angel had been standing at the Public Carriage stop on Zoteland Street, waiting for the tram to arrive. Beside her stood Klein, holding a gentlemen's cane. He planned to walk back to Iron Cross Street after Angel boarded and complete his daily afternoon task: searching along the way for the missing notebook.

"Didn't we already discuss this?"

Seeing that Klein was still eager to try, Angel shook her head.

"I'm only going to steal—cough—retrieve Mrs. Green's lost ring. Having more people would just make it inconvenient."

Even though the two had spent a long time discussing how to "steal back the ring," saying the word in public still made Angel feel somewhat ashamed.

Tingen City Police Department could only be blamed for being lazy and complacent. Even the citizens did not trust them, instead seeking out Private Detectives and Security Companies to deal with such matters.

Angel had found herself an excellent excuse for what she was doing.

"What if the ring isn't in the safe, or there isn't a safe there at all?" Klein still seemed hesitant. "If I go too and conduct a divination on-site, we'll have a better chance of finding the ring."

"Even if we don't find it, we can come back next time. This time can just be reconnaissance. But if both of us are discovered, there might not be a next time."

Angel decisively rejected the Diviner without any combat ability joining her. The odds of being discovered were low if she acted alone, but bringing along a clumsy Diviner would make things far more difficult.

Returning her thoughts to the present, Angel headed toward the Docklands warehouse district in the direction she remembered.

It was around three in the afternoon, the busiest time in the Docklands.

Sailing ships and steamships were moored by the river. Crude cranes loaded and unloaded cargo crates without pause, while laborers carrying heavy loads or pushing wheelbarrows moved through the narrow yet interconnected roads like a swarm of ants. The roughly planked roads had been trampled into potholes, and pooled water mixed with rubbish, producing a stench that made breathing difficult even in the open air.

This was where Tingen City's poor gathered. There was work for anyone willing to sell their strength, along with cheap housing. Countless people who could no longer survive in the city center scraped out a living here.

It was also the area Tingen City Police Department least wanted to enter. They would rather deploy an entire squad to protect a ball hosted by the mayor, lining up before the wealthy and powerful, than patrol the muddy paths by the docks for fifteen minutes.

Where light could not reach, darkness naturally took root. It was only natural for gangs to emerge in places like this.

In fact, the Docklands Labor Mutual Aid Society had originally been founded to resist the exploitation of workers by other gangs. A group of Dockworkers escaping protection fees and forced labor had banded together, fighting violence with violence and driving the other gangs that exploited workers out of the area.

Then came the inevitable corruption and decay, until they became the next exploiters...

Of course, what they did was merely the same old routine as the previous gangs: monopolizing work, collecting protection fees, and selling contraband. They did not actually treat their "members" too badly.

It was not because they had suddenly found a conscience, but because there was simply no profit to squeeze from the lowest laborers... Dockworkers generally earned only 10 Soule a week, and their work was unstable. After rent and daily expenses, almost nothing remained. After the Corn Laws were repealed, living costs might decrease slightly, but more rural workers would flood into the cities to compete for the already scarce job opportunities. Their wages would only fall further due to vicious competition.

From this perspective, the Labor Mutual Aid Society's monopoly over most dock work actually helped workers bargain and prevented labor from being devalued by endless undercutting.

At least, from the bustling scene before her, Angel could not see many signs of gangs running rampant.

Following the road beside the river, avoiding the crowded masses and turning several corners, she arrived at a cluster of warehouses.

This had originally been an area of wooden buildings. After a fire had reduced it to ashes a few years ago, the new buildings had all been constructed from brick and concrete, forming a stark contrast to the low wooden structures in the other outlying areas.

Angel's target this time was a three-story warehouse, though its interior had only been divided into two floors. A row of double arched doors stood at the front, with separate small rooms behind them divided by Brick Walls. Goods were stored on the first floor, while the second floor served as office space.

In Cole's memories, he had visited this warehouse twice and still had some impression of its layout.

Most of the workers should have been at the docks moving goods at this time. They would not carry the items that needed storing back into the warehouse until nightfall. Yet the warehouse's front entrance was currently packed with voices. More than a hundred men in various workers' uniforms crowded at the doors, surrounding a crude speaking platform made from crates.

"Quiet, everyone, quiet!"

A middle-aged man in a worker's uniform shouted through a tin megaphone from the platform.

"I've received everyone's demands, but the Chairman won't be back for two days. Until then, please continue working peacefully and don't delay our progress. Once the Chairman returns to Tingen City, a representative assembly will be called immediately."

"Don't even think about it! You said the same thing last time—two days after two days!"

"Get down from there, you lackey!"

"We want to see the Chairman!"

Several workers who were clearly taking the lead stirred up the surrounding crowd, with excellent results. The clamor of more than a hundred people immediately drowned out the calls to maintain order.

Seeing the man on the platform drenched in sweat as he tried to soothe the workers around him, while several burly men beside the platform repeatedly shoved back those who rushed forward, seemingly protecting the speaker, Angel had an idea.

This farce probably would not end anytime soon. Everyone in the warehouse had been drawn to the front entrance. Perhaps this was the best chance to retrieve the ring?

Avoiding the noisy front entrance, Angel made her way to the back of the warehouse.

The surface of the building, which had only been completed a few years ago, was already covered in peeling paint, exposing the brickwork beneath. Clearly, the owner did not care about such superficial appearances. There was a row of narrow windows only five meters up the wall, while the only usable footholds were a row of beams protruding from the wall slightly below the windows.

No matter how agile an Assassin was, she could not climb a five-meter vertical wall without tools. Fortunately, the second floor of the warehouse was office space, and several gas and water pipes ran vertically up the corner of the wall, entering the building at a point slightly below the windows.

Thanks to the man on the platform at the warehouse entrance shouting himself hoarse, along with the workers' varied curses, everyone nearby had gathered toward the front entrance.

Seeing no one around, Angel hesitated no longer. She walked to the corner, reached out to test the pipes' strength, and found that they could easily bear a person's weight. She climbed up directly.

Using both hands and feet, the physical abilities and extraordinary agility granted by the Assassin Potion let her quickly climb to the second-floor level. Then, using the horizontal pipe that entered the wall, she leaped up onto the beam beneath the second-floor window. As she jumped, the fastening screws where the pipe connected to the wall creaked under the strain, making Angel's heart tighten. After steadying herself, she looked around. There was no one behind the warehouse, and the workers farther away would not notice such a small disturbance.

However, now that she was high up, anyone looking over from a distance could easily spot the figure clinging to the outer wall. Angel did not dare linger. She pulled at the nearest window and found that it was not locked from the inside. She gently opened one side, quickly glanced into the room, pressed both hands against the windowsill, and climbed through.

This was a small records room. The wooden Shelves against the walls were piled with document folders, from newer kraft-paper folders to paper bags with damaged corners. Stacks of paper documents were neatly arranged.

Near the door was a desk and chair. An open register lay on the desk, beside a cup of coffee still steaming at the rim.

Perhaps out of concern for fire safety, the room had no Gas Lamps and relied instead on the natural light provided by its two windows.

After swiftly sweeping her gaze across the room, Angel found nothing resembling a safe. She casually pulled a stack of documents from the Shelves and found it was a record of warehouse imports and exports, so she stuffed it back.

Gently pushing open the door, she found a long corridor outside, which according to its position should run through the center of the second floor. Several Gas Lamps hung on the walls. It was daytime, but since the corridor only had windows at both ends, the Gas Lamps still had to provide most of the light. Every few meters, identical doors lined both sides of the corridor, some open and some closed. The door she had just exited bore a sign reading "Records Room."

The entire second floor was quiet at the moment, with only faint voices drifting over from the emotionally charged crowd at the warehouse's front entrance. The workers were arguing with the warehouse manager and his bodyguards.

It seemed she needed to hurry. No matter which side won the dispute, they might come to the warehouse's second floor. She had to find the safe and "take" the ring before then.

Angel quickly crossed the corridor, checking the door signs. Whenever she encountered an unlocked door, she opened it and poked her head in for a quick look. If it was locked, she lightly knocked twice to test whether anyone was inside.

She passed rooms marked "Tea Room," "Lounge," and "Assistant's Office." Other than a burly man snoring on a sofa in the lounge, Angel did not encounter anyone else.

After passing the Stairs in the middle of the corridor and reaching the other end, she searched several more rooms before finally finding a door marked "Chairman's Office."

She gently pressed the brass doorknob, but felt resistance. The handle did not move at all.

Angel's heart leaped with joy. It looked like this was the room.