Bodies and Rats!

The carriage stopped at the edge of the Shire District, beside the Dort District.

Opening his umbrella, Arthur stepped out of the carriage and immediately spotted the gray, crumbling spire in the distance. It belonged to the Dort District's most famous building, once the heart of South Los during the Sacred Empire's reign: the Holy Temple.

But with the collapse of the Sacred Empire, the heart of South Los had long since shifted from the Dort District to the Shire District.

All that remained was the Holy Temple, still seemingly towering over everything.

"We found him outside Rat Street!"

"He was fighting a dog for food at the time!"

Wiggins led the way, explaining what had happened.

Rat Street was the collective name for the dozen or so streets west of the Dort District's church. Unlike the factory-filled areas elsewhere in the district, this was where the lowest of South Los's low lived. Just as the name suggested, the people living here were rats, despised by everyone.

Most people who went bankrupt in South Los gathered here, clinging to their last shred of stubborn pride.

Until they finally died.

Or chose to leave.

Besides the bankrupt, there were displaced outsiders who managed to slip into the city. They were one of South Los's sources of instability.

Of course, compared with the criminals hiding here, they hardly amounted to anything.

Those were the ones who truly caused headaches.

You could never hope to catch them in Rat Street.

Because the Rat Street on the surface was far more than the dozen or so streets visible aboveground. Underground lay a network of interconnected "streets." That was the real Rat Street.

Without someone to guide you, you would get lost down there, and then...

Be "divided up and devoured."

In the eyes of the real "rats," outsiders were exceptionally welcome.

Arthur had learned all of this from his predecessor's memories.

Old Charlie had warned his predecessor more than once never to approach Rat Street without good reason. If he had to go there, a family member had to accompany him. Either Uncle Drake or Aunt Cassandra would do, though Old Charlie himself was naturally the best choice.

In his predecessor's memories, Old Charlie had looked exceptionally grave and earnest when giving those warnings.

So much so that his predecessor had restrained his curiosity. He had only heard about Rat Street and had never actually visited it.

Arthur was curious too, but he was more rational than his predecessor. He knew all too well what sort of darkness lurked in lawless places like this.

Until he was truly powerful, he would never set foot there.

At the same time, Arthur gave Wiggins a surprised glance.

To be able to find someone outside Rat Street, Wiggins must have even more influence on the streets than I thought!

Arthur felt no unease about this.

On the contrary, he was pleased.

For Arthur as he was now, the greater Wiggins's influence-or rather, power-on the streets, the more useful he would be.

And what if Wiggins's power on the streets exceeded expectations one day?

Arthur was not worried.

Wiggins was building his power, but did that mean Arthur would stand still?

He was moving forward too.

And definitely faster than Wiggins.

Arthur never overestimated himself, nor did he underestimate others.

He simply had confidence that he could continue working with Wiggins.

"What's Rat Street really like?"

Scott, walking alongside them, could not help asking out of curiosity.

Up ahead, Wiggins slowed for a moment, then lowered his voice.

"Hell."

The young reporter immediately shrank back.

But his curiosity did not vanish entirely.

For any reporter, Rat Street held an inexplicable allure.

"Just kidding!"

"Rat Street's just a place where poor people gather. There's nothing good about it, but if you want to go, you can hire me to take you in. Five Sol a trip."

"Of course, you absolutely can't report anything you see inside."

Turning his head to glance at Scott, Wiggins knew exactly what the young reporter was thinking and spoke at once.

"I can't report on it?"

The young reporter looked disappointed.

"You're not the first reporter who's wanted to cover Rat Street. But why has no newspaper ever published a report about it?"

Wiggins shrugged.

There were things this Golden Fingers left unsaid, but the young reporter guessed them and immediately stopped pursuing the subject of Rat Street.

News was important, without a doubt, but his life mattered more.

After another five minutes along the muddy road, the three reached a house. Wiggins pushed the door open.

Inside were three boys of fourteen or fifteen, each holding a club. Though their clothes were shabby and their bodies thin and small, their eyes were vicious. With the beggar cowering behind them, the three half-grown boys looked all the fiercer.

Only when they saw that it was Wiggins entering did the boys lower their clubs, their gazes softening.

"Boss!"

The three greeted Wiggins, then looked curiously at Arthur and Scott.

"This is Mr. Credos."

Wiggins raised a hand toward Arthur with considerable respect, then pointed casually at the young reporter.

"This is Scott."

Arthur nodded to the three half-grown boys before walking toward the beggar.

Arthur never underestimated people from the streets, and he was especially careful around half-grown boys like these. You never knew what they might do.

Curiosity and impulsiveness were the hallmarks of their age.

Bravado and aggression were the hallmarks of a street upbringing.

Put the two together, and the result was utter recklessness.

The beggar's frightened expression, despite his vacant mind, and the injuries on his face proved that. Arthur believed this was already the result of Wiggins keeping them in check.

Otherwise, the beggar would have fared much worse.

Even so, Arthur frowned.

The beggar before him was indeed the one he had seen earlier, but he was not the beggar Arthur was looking for.

Put simply, the beggar's appearance had not changed, but the "person" hidden within him was gone.

It was not just that someone truly belonging to the mystical side would never take such a beating without fighting back. That faint sense of unease was also gone.

Aside from their last encounter, when [Death Intuition] had begun flashing after the beggar attacked, Arthur had also felt a faint unease rise from deep within him when the beggar first appeared outside 2 Kirk Street.

Now it was gone.

Arthur trusted his instincts deeply.

Did someone possess him, then leave?

Did fear of the Marionette Doll make them abandon this body outright?

Arthur speculated.

As for whether the other party had died?

Arthur did not even consider it. With the power they had displayed, how could they possibly die so easily?

Even guessing that they had been frightened away was already a bold assumption.

"Mr. Credos, what's wrong?"

Wiggins noticed something was off with Arthur and immediately asked.

"Nothing. You did very well!"

Arthur smiled and shook his head, then took out a one-denomination Gold Ticket and placed it in Wiggins's hand.

He had yet to truly understand matters involving the mystical side and supernatural powers himself, so naturally he would not blame Wiggins for catching the wrong person.

And since Wiggins had put in the work, he deserved to be paid.

This concerned both their respective positions and their future cooperation. Arthur wanted Wiggins to serve him wholeheartedly in the future.

That was why he had taken out one of the ten one-denomination Gold Tickets Old Charlie had left him.

Although Arthur also had twelve Sol and three Los in loose change, how could a pile of Sol and Los make the same impression as a Gold Ticket?

Indeed, when Arthur produced the Gold Ticket, the three half-grown boys beside them stared wide-eyed. Wiggins's eyes were full of surprise too.

In Wiggins's mind, this job, and even the next few jobs, were repayment for Arthur letting him off. He had not dared hope for any payment.

And deep down, Wiggins had hoped that after making amends a few times, he could free himself from Arthur's control, or that they could begin working together on entirely new terms.

But now, looking at the Gold Ticket, Wiggins hesitated.

In the end, Wiggins chose to accept it.

He knew that cooperating on entirely new terms in the future would be the best course for him.

But he needed money.

Besides the three boys beside him, this Golden Fingers had other underlings to support. On top of that, he had to pay the gangs protection money regularly, leaving him barely able to make ends meet.

Recently, however, those gangs had raised his protection payments, plunging Wiggins into a crisis.

He had no choice but to pay the gangs their protection money.

Unless he wanted to die.

So even though he knew accepting this Gold Ticket would cement his relationship with Arthur in its current "superior and subordinate" form, he still chose to take it.

Arthur watched Wiggins accept the Gold Ticket with a smile. He was just about to say something when a series of bootsteps splashing through the mud reached his ears...

And they were drawing closer.