Gilan quickly found the place based on the information provided by the boy.
It is located in a secluded alley.
The main entrance is a shop selling soda and drinks. It is impossible to enter the back room because a wall is built in the middle. There is a side door in the alley, and you can only enter through this thick iron door.
Gilan is not in a hurry.
He first found an opportunity at the alley when no one was passing by, took off his leather jacket, and then tucked the cheap shirt inside into his trousers, pretending to be a common look among local workers.
Gilan smashed the leather boots and hat with his fingers again, adjusted his eyes, and eliminated the trace of ferocity, leaving only tiredness and dullness.
Wait until noon.
Not far away "Tate Toy Factory" rings the bell.
Soon, some workers slipped out during lunch time and entered the alley in small groups. They knocked on the iron gate in the alley and whispered a few words to the people inside before being let in.
Gilan has been hiding in the dark, observing and eavesdropping.
He waited a few more minutes.
Then he took a step towards the iron door, raised his hand and knocked.
Dong Dong.
"Which one?"
A vigilant voice of inquiry came from behind the door.
"Don't do this, Brunson."
Gilan imitated the worker just now and said with a slight smile with a slight eastern accent.
Through observation, he discovered that most of the workers in the toy factory seemed to have Eastern accents, and their tone of voice was joking, as if they were familiar with them.
"I ask you, which one?"
But the guard behind the door was still worried and asked again.
"Vic·Natemei." Gilan casually made up a name with a slightly impatient tone. "Hurry up, the factory bell will ring in a moment. I came to you without even eating lunch. If you waste more time, I will go next door to buy syrup."
"Vic..."
There was some muttering inside, and he looked at it with peep eyes for a few seconds.
"Okay, okay, keep pushing, you guys."
The iron door opened, revealing the head of a young man.
He looked at Gilan twice, and then stepped away without noticing.
Gilan chuckled, touched the other person's cheek, and strode inside. The young man dodged with a look of disgust, and then cursed a few times.
Everything is so natural.
When Gilan walked in, he found that although the space inside was small, it looked like a bar layout.
A long table is placed across the center, with benches on both sides.
Behind the bar, a young man who looked like a bartender was wiping glasses. There was no bottle of wine on the wall cabinet behind him. Instead, there were soda bottles and syrup bottles.
Four fierce-looking men in leather jackets stood in the corner of the room, whispering to each other.
At this time, there were already a dozen workers sitting at the table, talking and laughing while drinking cheap beer from their glasses.
Gilan strode to the bar and knocked on the table with two silver coins.
Dong Dong.
"Bring me a drink."
"There is no wine, only wheat sugar water. 5 Melang cup."
The bartender glanced at him, took out a glass, fiddled with it under the counter, and served a glass of inferior beer.
Gilan took a sip and looked disgusted.
"Have a drink with something stronger. This stuff is only suitable for little brats like you."
His tone was contemptuous, with a thick accent.
The bartender chuckled, looked Gilan up and down, and said:
"Then your salary these days will be gone."
"If it's gone, it's gone!" Gilan stared. "If the money is gone, you can still make it again. If you don't drink this thing for a day, you will feel uncomfortable!"
"Okay." The bartender smiled and winked at a man in the corner.
The thug watching the scene nodded, opened the curtain, and went to a utility room to get a dark glass bottle.
The bartender took it, carefully uncorked the bottle, poured half a glass of brown wine, and threw in a few ice cubes.
"Barley syrup,3 Pfennig."
The bartender pushed the wine glass in front of Gilan, stared at the two silver coins in his hand, and played with the taste:
"The money in your hand doesn't seem to be enough?"
"What's the rush?"
Gilan chuckled, picked up the wine glass, and drank it all.
The bartender didn't seem worried that he would run away without giving him the money, and looked at him with his arms crossed and a smile on his face.
Duh.
"It's really strong enough! Good!"
Gilan put the empty wine glass on the bar and let out a laugh. It immediately attracted the attention of many workers.
These men looked at him with envy and contempt.
What a drunkard!
"Give me another cup." Gilan pointed to the empty cup.
"Let's settle this cup first."
The bartender was indifferent.
"Bang." Gilan cursed dissatisfiedly in the eastern dialect.
Then he took something out of his pocket and threw something on the bar.
The bartender was about to get it when he suddenly froze.
His expression changed drastically, his eyes widened, and he looked straight at the brown pickup truck on the table. In the center of the surface was a circular metal badge with an "X" on a black background and white stripes.
Gulu.
The bartender swallowed.
He glanced at the rough man in front of him and saw that he didn't show any sign, so he plucked up the courage to pick up the card and opened it to take a look.
Suddenly, the bartender's pupils shrank sharply, and he almost screamed:
"Advanced Prohibition Agent!!"
Bang!!
Gilan took out the revolver with an expressionless face and fired a shot at the ceiling.
Suddenly, everyone present was stunned.
There was silence in the room.
The four strong thugs looked at each other and were about to draw their guns when they found that there was another person in front of them. Before they could see clearly, they felt a pain in their necks and their consciousness fell into silence.
With a few crackles, the four thugs fell to the ground.
Gilan turned around, walked up to the dull bartender, took away the card from his hand, and then returned to his original voice:
"Imperial Advanced Prohibition Agent, Gilan·Iros."
He grinned.
"Congratulations, you were arrested."
*
*
*
Gilan felt a power, inexplicably surging in his heart.
It was as if an invisible big hand was dragging his consciousness in a certain direction. He knew that this was the so-called "guiding force", guiding him in the direction of finding the original substance.
However, this power seemed to be limited, and after a while, it gradually faded away.
'The role of "agent" needs to be more immersive and the impact must be greater, so that the feedback I get can be stronger.'
Gilan opened his eyes, thoughtfully.
He was sitting on a large public carriage.
The two rows of sixteen-seater metal benches were all full. Not only that, but there were four or five people lying on the cramped aisle steps. These guys were all tied up, with rags or smelly socks stuffed in their mouths, and they were looking at Gilan in horror.
They are all members of "Tate Gang" and are involved in all aspects of the wine-making and wine-selling business. By interrogating the bartender, Gilan got more clues and quickly eliminated this group of people.
With the dual power of detective certificates and banknotes, he easily commandeered a public carriage and then pulled these guys to the police headquarters of South Muse.
Just do the whole thing.
Since you want to play the role of a "senior Prohibition Agent" in depth, you have to go through the entire process, and Gilan is unambiguous.