No matter who it was, once night fell and they walked through Chinatown, they would be drawn in by its prosperity.
Of course, behind that prosperity lurked all kinds of filth. Every city had it; it was something that emerged wherever there were many people. Even back home was no different. After all, the human heart was impossible to predict.
The simplest and kindest thing in the world was the human heart. The most complicated and darkest thing was also the human heart!
Manchester's largest Chinese underworld organizations had mainly originated here. There were more than a dozen gangs of varying sizes in this area alone. Just think about it: a tiny Chinatown had more than ten organizations, and those were only the named, relatively powerful ones. There were likely even more small-time groups.
Several decades ago, more than eighty percent of the Chinese people here had ties to the underworld. If they were not gang members, then they were peripheral members, or waiting to join. Directly or indirectly, they all had various connections.
This was also related to the social conditions at the time. Those who came out to make a living could not rely on anyone else and could only huddle together for warmth. That was why so many such organizations came into being. These groups had continued into modern society; though they had become somewhat more restrained, many people still joined because of profit.
They had merely become more covert and slightly more civilized.
For Chen Mo, who looked like a Siamese man in his thirties, entering Chinatown did not make him stand out. He even looked perfectly ordinary. There were plenty of people walking around Chinatown now, and many local Siamese people also loved coming here to shop.
Of course, there were even more tourists, who