Labor Mutual Aid Society

Taking the Public Carriage, Angel arrived in the Docklands.

Though it was called a "district," much of it actually lay on the outskirts of Tingen City. The Tussock River and Khoy River met outside the city before flowing toward Backlund. Large numbers of passenger and cargo ships traveled downstream, allowing the docks on Tingen City's outskirts to develop rapidly, with signs of merging into the urban area.

Just before she boarded, Klein was still making one last attempt.

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

Angel had been standing at the Public Carriage stop on Zouteland Street, waiting for the tram to arrive. Beside her stood Klein, holding his gentleman's cane. He planned to walk back to Iron Cross Street after seeing Angel onto the carriage and complete his daily afternoon task: searching along the way for the lost 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. Too many people would only make things inconvenient."

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

Tingen City Police Department could only be blamed for being lazy and incompetent. Even the citizens did not trust them, instead turning to private detectives and security companies for such matters.

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

"What if the ring isn't in a safe, or there isn't even a safe there?" Klein still seemed hesitant. "If I went to the scene and performed divination too, we'd have a better chance of finding it."

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

Angel decisively rejected the Seer with no combat ability joining her. The odds of being discovered were low if she acted alone, but bringing along a clumsy Seer would make things far more difficult.

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

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

Sailing ships and steamships were moored along the river. Crude cranes loaded and unloaded crates without pause, while porters carrying heavy loads or pushing wheelbarrows swarmed through the narrow yet interconnected roads like ants. The roads, haphazardly paved with wooden planks, had been trampled full of potholes. Stagnant water mixed with garbage, and the foul stench made breathing difficult even in the open air.

This was where Tingen City's poor gathered, with jobs that paid so long as one was willing to work hard and cheap housing. Countless people who could no longer survive in the city center came here to make a living.

It was also the area Tingen City Police Department least wanted to visit. They would rather dispatch an entire squad to protect a ball hosted by the mayor, standing in long lines before the wealthy and powerful, than patrol the muddy paths by the docks for fifteen minutes.

Where light could not reach, darkness existed. It was only natural for gangs to arise in such places.

In fact, the original purpose of the "Docklands Labor Mutual Aid Society" had been to resist the exploitation of workers by other gangs. A group of dockworkers seeking to escape 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 degeneration, until they became the next exploiters...

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

It was not because they had suddenly found their conscience, but because there was simply nothing to squeeze from the laborers at the bottom... Dockworkers generally earned only 10 soli a week, and their employment was unstable. After rent and daily expenses, almost nothing remained. Though living costs would fall slightly after the repeal of the Corn Laws, more farming populations would flood into the cities to compete for the already scarce jobs. Their wages would only fall further due to vicious competition.

From that perspective, the Labor Mutual Aid Society's monopoly over most dock work actually benefited the workers in their bargaining, preventing labor from being devalued by limitless undercutting.

At least, Angel could not see much evidence of "rampant gang activity" in the bustling scene before her.

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

This area had originally been filled with wooden buildings. After a fire reduced it to ashes several years ago, the new structures had all been built from brick and concrete, forming a stark contrast with the low wooden buildings elsewhere on the outskirts.

Angel's target this time was a three-story warehouse whose interior had been divided into only two levels. A row of double arched doors lined the front. Behind them were separate compartments divided by brick walls, with goods stored on the first floor and offices on the second.

According to Cole's memories, he had visited this warehouse twice and still retained some impression of its internal layout.

Most of the workers should have gone to the docks to move cargo by now. They would not bring back items that needed to be stored overnight until nightfall. Yet the warehouse entrance was currently packed with people. More than a hundred men in various workers' uniforms crowded before the doors, surrounding a crude speaking platform made of crates.

"Quiet, everyone, quiet!"

A middle-aged man in a worker's uniform stood on the platform, shouting through a tin loudspeaker.

"I have received everyone's demands, but the Chairman will not be back for another two days. Until then, please continue working with peace of mind. Don't delay our progress. Once the Chairman returns to Tingen City, a representative assembly will be convened immediately."

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

"Get down here, you lackey!"

"We want to see the Chairman!"

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

Seeing the man on the platform drenched in sweat as he tried to placate the workers, while several burly men beside the platform repeatedly shoved back workers who rushed forward, apparently protecting the shouting man, Angel had an idea.

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

Avoiding the noisy front entrance, Angel came around to the back of the warehouse.

The surface of the building, only a few years old, was already covered in patches of peeling paint that exposed the brickwork beneath. Its owner clearly did not care about such superficial appearances. Looking up along the wall, there was only a row of narrow windows five meters above the ground. The only usable foothold was a row of beams protruding from the wall slightly below the windows.

No matter how nimble an Assassin was, she could not scale a vertical five-meter wall without tools. Fortunately, the warehouse's second floor was the office area, and several gas and water pipes ran vertically up the corners of the wall before entering it 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.

Seeing no one around, Angel stopped hesitating. She walked to the corner, tested the strength of the pipes, and found that they could easily support a person's weight. She immediately began climbing.

Using both hands and feet, the physical abilities and exceptional agility granted by the Assassin Potion allowed her to reach the second-floor height quickly. Then, using the horizontal pipe that entered the wall, she sprang upward and landed on 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, she was now high up. If anyone looked over from afar, they could easily spot the figure clinging to the outer wall. Angel did not dare linger. She tugged on 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 sill, and climbed through the window.

This was a small records room. 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 had been arranged neatly.

Near the Door Opening stood a desk and chair. An open register lay on the desk, with a cup of coffee beside it, steam rising from its rim.

Perhaps out of concern for fire safety, the room had no gas lamps and relied on its two windows for natural light.

After swiftly sweeping her gaze around the room, Angel found nothing resembling a safe. She casually pulled out a stack of documents from the shelves and found that it was a warehouse inventory record, so she shoved it back.

Gently pushing open the Door Opening, she found a long corridor outside. Judging by its position, it ran through the center of the second floor. Several gas lamps hung on the walls. It was daytime, but because the corridor had windows only at either end, the gas lamps still provided the main source of light. Identical doors stood every few meters along both sides, some open and some closed. The Door Opening she had just exited bore a sign reading "Records Room."

The entire second floor was silent at the moment, save for the faint sounds of voices coming from the emotional crowd at the warehouse entrance. The workers were arguing with the warehouse manager and his bodyguards.

It seemed she needed to hurry. No matter which side won the conflict, 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 signs on the doors. Whenever she encountered an unlocked Door Opening, she opened it and poked her head inside for a glance. For locked ones, she lightly knocked twice to test whether anyone was inside.

She passed rooms labeled "Pantry," "Lounge," and "Assistant office." Other than a burly man snoring on a sofa in the lounge, Angel encountered no one else.

After passing the stairwell in the middle of the corridor and reaching the other end, she searched several more rooms before finally finding a sign that read "Chairman's office."

She gently pressed the brass handle and felt resistance. The handle did not move at all.

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