Oak

The original owner had little interaction with the neighbors, and since they knew he was a gang thug, they had no desire to get close to him.

So who would come looking for him this early? Police reinforcements?

Gilan's gaze sharpened as he slowly walked to the door.

He turned sideways, hiding behind the wall, raised the hand holding his gun toward the ceiling, and asked in a low voice,

"Who is it?"

"Iros, it's me, Momir." A young voice came from outside. He added, "Two other brothers from the gang are here too. Even Brother Randolph came. The boss heard you'd been caught by those 'Bobbies' and was worried, so he sent us to help you."

Gilan narrowed his eyes.

Momir was the Oak Gang member closest to him. He was only seventeen, three years younger than Gilan, simple-minded and fiercely loyal.

As for Randolph, he was a trusted subordinate of Lucas, the Oak Gang's boss, and was usually responsible for managing the lower-ranking members.

After giving it some thought, Gilan opened the iron door a crack.

Momir was delighted when he saw the door open, but his face changed dramatically the next second.

A black gun barrel was aimed directly at his face through the gap!

"Brother Gilan! Don't shoot!" Momir hurriedly raised both hands and said fearfully, "It's me! Your best friend!"

Even the three burly men beside him were startled. The Empire tightly controlled firearms, and only the gang's management had the right to carry a Borchardt Pistol. They had no idea where Gilan had gotten a Luger Pistol.

The two pistols looked very similar, and both held eight rounds, but the Borchardt was bulkier and prone to jamming. The Luger was a newer firearm improved from the Borchardt.

Most rank-and-file law enforcement officers in the Bremen Empire were equipped with Lugers. For a criminal gang like the Oak Gang, getting their hands on obsolete models was already quite difficult.

"How did you know I escaped from the police station?"

Gilan asked coldly.

If their answer failed to satisfy him, he would kill them without hesitation. It would mean his whereabouts had been exposed, and there was a strong chance he would soon be hunted down.

"Last night, I saw you get surrounded and arrested by the 'Prohibition Agents' behind Nurr Grocery Store. I was worried, so I hid across from the police station and kept watch. I didn't expect you to escape so early this morning... I figured those 'Bobbies' definitely wouldn't let you go, so I went back and asked the boss for help."

Momir stammered, sounding somewhat aggrieved.

After listening, Gilan scrutinized him for several seconds. Only after confirming that he was not lying did he slowly lower his pistol and open the door.

He said nothing more, merely patting Momir on the shoulder to show his gratitude.

Only then did the latter's expression ease.

"Don't worry, Gilan. Our Oak Gang won't abandon any brother." A burly long-haired man behind Momir walked forward with a smile. "The boss ordered us to escort you back to our base and hide you for a while."

Gilan glanced at him and recognized him as Randolph, one of the boss's most capable men.

"I was already sentenced to death at the police station. I was supposed to be shot this morning..."

Before he could finish, the others burst out laughing.

Another bald, dark-skinned man spoke up.

"Come on, brother. Under the current Prohibition, our Oak Gang brews bootleg liquor and sells bootleg liquor. Which of us wouldn't get the death sentence if caught?"

"But I also killed a police officer."

Gilan deliberately pretended to hesitate.

The four of them froze.

Murder was also a capital crime, but the police would certainly pursue it more aggressively than bootlegging, especially when the victim was an officer. They would never let it go.

They glanced at the gun in Gilan's hand, finally understanding where the Luger had come from.

"So what? You only killed one 'Bobby,' didn't you?"

Randolph grinned dismissively.

"During that clash with the Kuka Gang two years ago, plenty of police came. To cover the boss's retreat, I shot two 'Bobbies' dead on the spot. That's why the boss values me... Don't worry, Gilan. Serve the boss well from now on, and you'll be fine."

I killed more than one.

Gilan thought to himself, but he did not correct him and simply chose to go along with it.

His knowledge of the outside world was too limited. If he fled rashly, he would probably be caught easily.

This is an opportunity.

Since the Oak Gang was so lawless, he could use them as cover and buy himself more time. Once he had gathered enough intelligence and the time was right, he could leave.

As for staying with the Oak Gang and serving the boss, Gilan had no such intention.

"Come on. Before it gets fully light, we need to get back to the base. It won't be good if the 'Bobbies' patrolling the streets spot us."

Randolph looked around and urged them on.

Gilan nodded and followed them out of the slums.

They traveled along a narrow path at the end of Red Tree Street. After winding through several twists and turns, they entered the neighboring district of Haddonfield Street.

Haddonfield Street had the largest junkyard in the area, called Black Bottle Cap Brothers. However, that was merely a front. Several old residential buildings and warehouses lay deeper inside, forming the Oak Gang's core base.

This was not Gilan's first time here.

Following the four men into the familiar junkyard, he saw two men guarding the entrance discreetly nod at their group.

As they went farther in, heaps of bottles, jars, newspapers, and furniture appeared on both sides of the path. Many young, strong men had already started work, sorting and hauling goods.

Most wore sleeveless shirts and men's soft caps. They were all Oak Gang members. During the day, they worked in the junkyard as a cover; at night, they sold bottled bootleg liquor brewed by the gang's inner members.

Randolph and the others did not chat with these "workers." After exchanging nods in greeting, they led Gilan deeper into the junkyard.

Gilan soon arrived before a three-story building.

The defenses were clearly much tighter here. Four or five men sat in the courtyard drinking and playing cards, with weapons such as steel pipes and blades at their feet. Several hidden sentries on the second floor were equipped with Borchardt Pistols.

Gilan knew that Boss Lucas was usually in the office on the third floor. In the past, he had always gone there to report the accounts.

But this time, Randolph did not take him upstairs and instead continued farther in.

Are we going to the warehouse area?

Since joining the Oak Gang, Gilan had never once entered the warehouses. He only knew that they were the gang's most closely guarded secret area, because the bootleg liquor was brewed there. Ordinary gang members were not qualified to enter.

Inside the warehouse area, three warehouses formed a U-shape. A tall hornbeam grew in the open courtyard at the center, its serrated, oval-diamond leaves swaying in the wind.

An old well stood beneath the tree, guarded on both sides by two armed gang elites.

They stepped forward and checked Gilan's handbag. Once they confirmed it contained nothing flammable or explosive, they allowed him through.

"That's our Oak Gang's 'Fortune Well.'" Randolph pointed at the well and explained to Gilan, "The water for the bootleg liquor comes from that well. Boss Lucas discovered it many years ago. Liquor brewed with its water tastes exceptionally good. Just look at those regular customers who've bought our bootleg liquor—who wouldn't want a second drink?"

"This should be one of the gang's secrets. Why tell me?"

Gilan withdrew his gaze and asked with a frown.

"Of course it's because the boss values you. Escaping the police station alone was proof of your ability." Randolph grinned and patted Gilan on the shoulder. "Congratulations. You're considered one of the gang's core members now. Maybe the two of us will even work for the boss together someday."

As he spoke, he led Gilan to the entrance of the warehouse on the left.

"But before that, you'll need to stay here for a few days and lie low. The boss will cover for you. The 'Bobbies' from Redwood Street Police Station won't dare come here to search."

Randolph said.

Yet Gilan keenly sensed that something was wrong, because he could tell Randolph was not telling the truth.

"Thanks, Randolph."

He nodded with a deliberately dull expression, though his thoughts churned within him.

"We're brothers. No need to thank me." Randolph still wore a smile as he opened the warehouse door, but before Gilan could enter, he stopped him. "Oh, right. According to the boss's rules, we have to take your gun once you enter the warehouse area."

"Don't worry. We're only holding it for now. We'll return it when you come out."

Randolph extended his hand.

A chill flashed through Gilan's eyes. Just as he was about to refuse, he caught sight of something inside the warehouse through the open door.

His heart stirred.

"Here."

Gilan feigned reluctance as he pulled the Luger from his waist and handed it over.

Randolph lovingly handled the Luger, delight showing on his face as he secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

What a fool.

"Try not to come out these next few days. Brothers will bring you food and water." Randolph smiled, turned around, and led Momir and the other two away. "We'll be going now. If you need anything, call for the brothers in the courtyard."

Gilan nodded and watched the four men walk away.

After entering the warehouse, his expression immediately turned cold.

Randolph had clearly lied to him. Perhaps Boss Lucas was involved as well, though Gilan could not understand what they wanted from him.

Fine. If you want to harm me, don't blame me for being ruthless when the time comes.

Gilan shut the iron door himself and locked it from the inside.

Then he raised his eyes and stared fixedly into the corner of the warehouse—

A projector sat there.

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