In this part of town, the days belonged to the authorities, and the nights belonged to the Butcher.
It had become an established rule.
What did the underworld do? Extort protection money, bully the weak, traffic in people, and commit every kind of crime. But as long as no one found out, those things would never come to light, and they could carry on as if they were legitimate.
Dole sat in a corner, drinking the awful liquor without much interest as he watched his surroundings, ears perked to catch whatever he could.
Bars were indeed good places to gather information. With sharp hearing, he could easily pick up all sorts of things: what some noble had done that day, who had beaten or killed whom and where the body had been dumped, or who had gone out and done what. The place was noisy, but with his keen senses, Dole could still focus and hear what he wanted.
After drinking for a while, he saw Carmen walk in. Carmen was extremely cautious as he entered. After exchanging a few greetings with the local ruffians, he found a seat.
Not long after Carmen sat down, a dark-skinned man took the seat opposite him, and the two began talking in low voices.
Dole had been coming here for several days, and he knew the man was an important figure in the Butcher's organization. The two were trading intelligence: Carmen gave the Butcher some information, and the Butcher gave Carmen some in return, helping Carmen solve more cases. Carmen, in turn, offered the Butcher protection.
That was how officials and bandits ended up in cahoots.
Seeing this gave Dole an idea. He had originally planned to poison Carmen right there, but Carmen didn't use drugs, so there was no opportunity. Getting close