Late at night, all was still. Especially since Black Flame City had imposed a curfew, once midnight passed, Black Flame City would sink into deep slumber like a giant who had worked hard all day.
Just as birds sang by day and snakes and rats came out at night, Black Flame City's nights seemed far more appealing than its days to certain people. This was especially true in the area near the train station, where all kinds of people mixed together. Plenty still came out after midnight to make their rounds. Of course, if they were unlucky enough to be caught by the patrolling City Guard or the constables, they could only blame their bad luck. What were the consequences of getting caught after curfew? A beating, a spell of hard labor at Gransburg Prison outside Black Flame City, and becoming the butt of jokes around the local toughs' drinking tables for a while. What else? Nothing. To the toughs who had weathered their share of storms, those consequences were nothing much.
There were plenty of people who thought that way, and as a result, after midnight, the bar tucked away in a nearby alley, called "Treasure of the Viper" and steeped in the style of the frontier, was especially lively. A decent, down-on-his-luck young man like Zhang Tie naturally had no idea how vibrant Black Flame City's nightlife could be.
It was only after spending half the night feeling their way around the train station that Hark and Sneider, newcomers to the area, found this bar called "Treasure of the Viper." They pushed through its two outer doors only after curfew had begun.
"Treasure of the Viper" wasn't a large bar. After midnight was when it got busy. There were more than thirty people inside, most dressed like Prospectors. Some talked and laughed loudly, groping the breasts of the faded prostitutes beside them as they laughed. Others spoke quietly in the shadows cast by the bar's lights. Now and then, two men seated at a table would hide their hands beneath their wide sleeves and gesture to each other where no one else could see. One might give a slight nod if satisfied, or shake his head if not. If they couldn't reach a deal, he would pull his hand back. This was the Prospector's way of doing business: no words, just hands hidden beneath sleeves. It was an exceptionally discreet way to trade. Only the two parties involved knew what they were trading or how much it cost. Even if someone right in front of you discussed killing you and how much your death was worth, you'd never know. Prospectors had their own sign language and way of communicating.
When Hark and Sneider entered the bar, many people merely glanced at them before going back to what they were doing. Some of the Prospectors, with their sharper instincts, seemed to sense that Hark and Sneider were dangerous. Without drawing attention to themselves, they edged the weapons on the tables and beside them closer, putting them within easier reach.
Hark and Sneider had barely sat down at a table when a barmaid with a hint of charm sauntered over, swaying her hips. She bent forward, deliberately letting the pair of full breasts beneath her low-cut dress catch their eyes. "What can I get you gentlemen?"
"Two Black Pine Wines. What do you have to eat?" Sneider asked.
"Toast, peas, beef stew, and crispy sausages!"
"Bring us one serving of each."
"Coming right up!"
The barmaid walked away. When the customers saw the food the two strangers had ordered, many of the glances secretly trained on them shifted elsewhere. The sort who came to cause trouble rarely felt like eating a meal first.
The barmaid soon brought Hark and Sneider their food. Sneider didn't eat right away. Instead, he took a dry twig-like object wrapped in silver wire from inside his clothes and dipped it into each dish and drink. Then he checked the color of the root and silver wire before finally eating. After everything they'd been through that night, they were truly hungry.
Testing for poison with a Soul-Eater Thorn root wrapped in silver wire was a skill all Prospectors knew. The ingenious combination of silver wire and Soul-Eater Thorn root could detect a considerable range of toxins, including the dreaded "Powerful Rat Poison," of which even the tiniest amount could kill. It was practically a pre-meal ritual for every Prospector. So nobody thought twice when the two men tested their food. The bar owner and barmaid were used to it, too. In a bar frequented by Prospectors, many newcomers did the same. It wasn't deliberate posturing; it had simply become part of their lives.
The customers talking loudly in the bar were discussing how Black Flame City Hall had once again raised the reward for exploring and mapping the black regions to the north and west of Black Flame City. The price for drawing a rough map of those regions had now risen to 46 gold coins per square kilometer, with an additional five percent for every kilometer farther out. Over the past few days, several groups of Prospectors who thought themselves stronger than most had set out to strike it rich. How many would make it back alive was anyone's guess.
After finishing their food, Hark and Sneider pretended to listen to the bar's gossip for a while, then acted as though they were about to leave and called the barmaid over to settle the bill. As Hark took out his money, he fumbled and dropped his purse. Two gold coins rolled out. Hark quickly snatched up the purse, paid, and left with Sneider.
As soon as the two men stepped out of the bar, a man sitting in a corner stood up and followed. He drained the drink in his hand in one gulp, deliberately spilling some of it down himself, then went out after them.
No one in the bar thought anything of it.
"Grey Rat Pound finally found his prey for tonight, huh? Heh... heh..." someone in the bar snickered maliciously. Everyone promptly forgot the three men who had just left. In this world, everyone had their own rules for survival. As long as other people didn't affect them, most chose to turn a blind eye to what was happening around them. That, too, was one of the rules of survival in this age.
The moment Grey Rat Pound left the bar, he looked left and right and spotted Hark and Sneider heading down the alley to the left. His eyes narrowed, and he staggered after them like a drunk. The two men looked back when Pound drew near, but seeing him act drunk, they didn't seem to pay him any mind. Pound edged closer to Hark, then stumbled and reached for the man's pocket. The moment his fingers touched Hark's clothes, Pound heard a cold laugh.
"Too slow!"
Grey Rat Pound hadn't even figured out what was happening when someone's hand clamped around his wrist like an iron vice. He was about to play his old trick—pretending to be drunk and yelling—when a cold dagger pressed against his neck. Its blade just nicked his flesh, opening a thin cut. Pound broke out in a cold sweat. Hark grabbed him like a chicken by the beak, clapped a hand over his mouth, and dragged him into the dark shadows beside the alley, out of sight.
"Take me to your boss. We have business with him!" The burly man who had grabbed him didn't seem to have much patience. He tossed Pound to the ground and got straight to the point.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just—ah..." Grey Rat Pound, gagged and unable even to cry out, stared in disbelief at his right hand. Just moments ago, his wrist had gone cold. Now he looked down and saw blood spurting from the severed artery. The cut looked like the bloody maw of a monster, and Pound nearly fainted from fright.
"Before you bleed out, you've got less than ten minutes to waste," Sneider said with a smile, flipping his dagger.
"Our boss is Bries, a level-six Black Spider. We've got more than ten brothers. Cross the Black Hand Gang, and you'll regret it..." By now, Grey Rat Pound was snarling fiercely, unaware of the contempt flickering across Hark's face as he listened.
"Maybe. But you've only got two choices now: wait here to die, or take us to your boss and let him save you," Sneider said indifferently.
Half an hour later, at the den of Bries, the pickpocket boss near Black Flame City's train station, Hark and Sneider were surrounded by more than a dozen Black Hand Gang members. They glared menacingly and held weapons ready. Battle Qi churned around Bries, the Black Hand Gang's boss. It gradually gathered behind him into the hazy, towering shadow of a black spider, more than two meters tall. The gang members, along with Grey Rat Pound—pinned to the ground beneath Hark's foot, one hand gripping the blood vessels in his right wrist—watched Bries with envy and excitement. A Warrior who had entered the ranks of the sixth level, a level-six Warrior who had condensed Battle Qi, was more than enough to help Bries lead the Black Hand Gang to thrive around Black Flame City's train station and tear apart anyone who dared challenge them.
"What do we do?" Hark asked Sneider.
"You two have asked everything you needed to ask. Our Black Hand Gang doesn't have the black-haired kid you're looking for. None of the pickpockets around the train station fit your description, either. Now you've hurt one of my men. Don't you think it's time to answer to the Black Hand Gang? Too late to regret it now!" Bries snarled. With a wave of his hand, the Black Hand Gang's thugs and ruffians advanced on Hark and Sneider, weapons in hand and murder in their eyes.
"Kill them all. They've seen us. If even one gets away, it'll be a huge problem," Sneider said.
Bries's expression changed. He roared and swung a fist at Hark's head. As soon as Bries made his move, every Black Hand Gang member attacked Hark and Sneider with the weapons in their hands.
Hark stepped forward and crushed Grey Rat Pound's head beneath his foot like a watermelon. Then he swung a fist at Bries's. Just before their fists collided, Bries's expression changed. For the briefest instant, a huge figure appeared behind Hark, too—but unlike Bries's Black Spider, the figure behind Hark was a giant Centipede with countless legs.
"Thousand-Legged Centipede, a seventh-level Warrior? Impossible..." Bries cried out in terror. Their fists collided, and Hark's crushed Bries's entire arm like rotten wood before punching through his chest and bursting out his back.
In a single move, the pillar of the Black Hand Gang came crashing down. Those at the front had no time to react. Those behind them who did were first to drop their weapons and turn to flee.
Sneider's body twisted and writhed like a snake. He slipped through the gaps between the weapons about to strike him and appeared behind two Black Hand Gang members who were turning to run. His dagger flicked across their throats, as gentle as a snake's tongue. Before the two had even fallen, he appeared beside several more gang members, his dagger slicing across their throats almost simultaneously. After vanishing and reappearing several times, Sneider cut down the last man before he could take seven steps. Then everyone stood frozen, including those who had attacked Sneider first. Blood sprayed from the throats and windpipes of every Black Hand Gang member, and almost as one, they fell.
From the beginning of the fight to its end, less than five breaths had passed. In the Black Hand Gang's house, only two people remained standing. The thick stench of blood began to fill the room.
"What do we do?" Hark asked Sneider again, as though killing a bunch of people were nothing more than a trivial chore.
Sneider was just then savoring the moment, licking the blood from his dagger. "Let's deal with the bodies first. We need to make sure nobody finds them for at least two days!"
"Wouldn't burning them be better?"
"Those people at the bar saw us tonight. Unless we can kill everyone there, if something happens to the Black Hand Gang tonight, people will definitely connect it to us. Once two days have passed, we can set this place on fire, and no one will think of us," Sneider said, cautious and shrewd. "These guys operate around the train station, and this is their den. They must have plenty of things they've stolen hidden here. Let's search; we might find something good. That black-haired kid dared to wander the streets near the train station at night, so he must know the area well and come here often. We'll wait around the train station for the next few days. As soon as we see him, we'll find a chance to capture him."
"What if we can't find him?"
"If we still haven't found him after a week, we run. We leave the Andaman Alliance, leave the Blakerson Human Corridor, and get as far away as possible. We can't let the bosses find us, or we'll die horribly," Sneider said gloomily.
"Fine!"
An hour later, Hark and Sneider left the Black Hand Gang's den. Before leaving, they locked the front door from the outside, making it look as though the place had been abandoned. They were sure no one would dare enter in the near future, given the Black Hand Gang's reputation. A fire two days later would wipe out the gang completely without leaving a shred of evidence. By ordinary reasoning, who would imagine the Black Hand Gang had been destroyed two full days before the fire?
Black Hand Gang, what was that supposed to be? As he left the den, Hark spat contemptuously toward it.
Just as the Black Hand Gang was wiped out, Zhang Tie ignited the Divine Palace Bright Point. He himself didn't realize that, because of one insignificant little wooden token, he had already been drawn into a tremendous crisis.
At that moment, Zhang Tie felt as if his life brimmed with hope, and his youth no longer seemed so bleak...
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Black Iron is featured in the Three Rivers ranking. Thanks to everyone for your tremendous support!