He was a good man
8 PM, East Borough.
Inside a room on the first floor of a multi-family apartment building on Golden Wutong Street.
The son's eyes were red and swollen from crying, and his voice was already hoarse. The mother stood by the bed, silently wiping away her tears. The father sat cross-legged on the bed without saying a word.
The room was eerily silent; so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
"Don't cry!"
The father suddenly said in a deep voice.
As soon as the words were spoken, both mother and son trembled slightly.
Fear welled up in the son's eyes, and he swallowed hard, trying to suppress his trembling. After regaining her senses, the mother opened her arms to stop her husband.
Just then, they heard the sound of Match being struck.
"Laugh!"
In the dark room where the lights hadn't been turned on, a small flame appeared.
Using the dim light, the father pulled a half-empty Cigarette Case from his pocket, and with trembling hands, took out a Cigarette and put it in his mouth.
He took a deep drag—the Cigarette was at least a fifth Burning —and then, with a long sigh, a large cloud of smoke billowed out.
At that moment, his hoarse voice rang out. "It's okay, I'll go to the Gang to borrow money at high interest rates tomorrow."
"It's only 2 soli, not much money even with interest. As long as I work an extra six hours a night at the dock, I can pay it back in a week."
"The hot water is back, go wash your faces and go to bed."
The young son might not understand what those words meant, but the mother, who was standing in front of him, couldn't help but hiss out, "Working a full day during the day, and then another six hours at night, are you trying to kill yourself?!"
"At least, at least I can share some of the burden by finding you some temporary laundry or cleaning jobs, so you can have a two-hour break in between—"
Before she could finish speaking, there was a sudden, urgent knocking on the door. "Door Opening!"
"I'm Police!"
The second sentence clearly carries significant weight in the East Borough.
Panic flashed across the faces of the family of three almost simultaneously. The father jumped off the bed, shielding his wife and son behind him, and strode over to Door Opening.
By the dim light of the corridor wall lamp, he saw a handsome man in plain clothes outside.
"Take a look, is this your purse?" the plainclothes man asked in a gruff voice, shaking the worn-out purse in his hand.
"It's ours, it was stolen by Pickpocket this evening." Future speak, his son behind him blurted out.
The plainclothes man nodded, tossed the money pouch over, and said, "That's good. There are 4 soli inside. Check to see if anything is missing."
"4. Soli? No, Police Officer, you've got it wrong—"
The plainclothes man interrupted him irritably, "Are you questioning me?"
"Just do what I tell you to do. If you keep dawdling, I'll handcuff you and take you back!" he said impatiently, frowning.
A familiar sense of oppression welled up inside me.
The family of three dared not say another word and hurriedly counted their change. The man exclaimed, "Not a penny less, Police Officer! It's 4 soli!"
The plainclothes man grunted indifferently, then snapped, "Keep an eye on your things from now on. Don't keep causing us trouble, you hear me?"
After saying that, he didn't wait for the family's reply and turned to leave quickly.
The door closed.
The family of three stared in silence at their recovered purse, completely oblivious to some logical flaws in their overjoyed state.
For example, the plainclothes man just now wasn't a Police in charge of this street at all.
at the same time.
Inside the empty room Next Door.
"What do you say now?" Fors glanced smugly at the person beside him.
Hugh's face was filled with confusion as he kept scratching his messy, short, golden hair.
"Hugh, I knew you were being misled by appearances. With the sales of ' Young Roselle,' his royalties must have been at least £500!"
"With his income level, how could he possibly care about a little bit of spare change?" Fors said, a bright smile blooming in the darkness as she smiled.
"And I already told you before I came—he's a good person."
"Perhaps other Beyonder along this Pathway have left you with some bad impressions, but he would never find pleasure in harming others."
Those who are at a loss for words have no choice but to silently bear the consequences.
But soon, she suddenly realized something was wrong, looked up at her imperious friend, and a hint of suspicion quickly surfaced in the depths of her eyes.
Fors's tone sounds familiar... Let me think... last time, when "Stormy Mountain Villa" exceeded expectations, she seemed to be bragging about it in the same way...
Wait a minute! Did she just mention * Young Roselle *? Isn't that novel written by Raven? Could they be the same person?
On Saturday morning, Hugh hurriedly got off the carriage and headed straight for his lodgings.
She pushed open the door and saw the figure on the Sofa. She froze, rubbed her eyes hard, and opened them again.
Her mouth reacted faster than her brain, asking, "What are you doing here?"
Just then, Fors came out of the Kitchen carrying a plate of Desi Pie.
Their eyes met.
Hugh's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he asked incredulously, "You actually cooked for this man?"
This man—don't I even deserve a name?—Even though I know that's just her personality, I still want to beat her up, what should I do?
Lorry Awkwardness picked up his water glass, pretending he hadn't heard anything.
Fors blushed slightly, secretly glaring at her friend through gritted teeth. "Hugh, where's your brain? He's here to return that notebook. I'm too lazy to go out anyway, so I'll just grab something to eat."
"Then why are you blushing?" Xiu instinctively wanted to ask this question, but noticing his friend's murderous glare, he quickly raised his hand to cover his mouth.
Fors looked apologetically at Lorry on the Sofa: "Sorry, she's always like this."
As she spoke, she placed the Desi Pie on the Tea Table and sat down on the Sofa.
Hugh glanced at Lorry, who was sitting in her own seat, while Fors sat on the other side. Suddenly, she felt awkward and superfluous.
She took a deep breath and said seriously, "Fors, stop eating! Something terrible has happened!"
"What's wrong?" Fors put down her knife and fork, looked up and asked.
Seeing that his friend had no intention of letting the man leave, Hugh's eye twitched involuntarily again, and he said in a deep voice, "Williams is dead!"
"This place may no longer be safe; we need to evacuate as soon as possible!"
She glanced at Lorry, who was enjoying his Desi Pie, and scratched her head in frustration. "I have to go back to the East Borough. Remember to let Miss Audrey know."
After saying that, she strode away without looking back.
Upon hearing Audrey's name, Lorry's heart skipped a beat. Without a word, he put down his knife and fork, wiped the grease from his lips with Handkerchief, and asked, "Need any help?"
Because of Hugh's sudden appearance last time, he didn't have a chance to bring up anything else.
My purpose in visiting today, besides returning the book "Travels in the Spirit World," is to give back Fors her share of the spoils of Fors.
- A Bearer Cheque for five hundred pounds.
This was most of Lorry's wealth, except for the 1,500 pounds in his Lucky Money Bag; he only had a few dozen pounds left before his royalties arrived.
But Fors insisted on refusing, believing that his contribution was insignificant and that being able to return alive was already a result of God protection.
Not only that, she also refused to accept payment for borrowing the books.
Just now, while the two of them were discussing this matter, Hugh suddenly pushed the door open and walked in.
Upon hearing this, Fors's eyes lit up.
She coughed lightly and said, "Anyway, I'm not short of money. If you feel bad about it, you can put in a little more effort to help me find the Formula for the Trickmaster."
"As for help—well, perhaps it really is possible."