Something amiss

In the landlord's words:

This was the best-situated room in the whole building!

With a little luck, all you had to do was lean against the window to see the call girls in the apartment opposite coming out of their bathrooms wrapped in towels.

At a dance hall, getting to see them wasn't nearly so easy.

You had to order at least two drinks and a plate of snacks before you could invite one over to sit with you.

Looks like the landlord's done this plenty of times... 21 Hope Street, Cherwood Borough... You really should go take a look when you have the time...

Lorry grumbled inwardly as he politely saw the landlord out.

He closed the door, then produced two round convex lenses from his pocket as if by magic. Wrapping some old newspaper around them, one at either end, he made a crude telescope.

Swish!

Lorry drew the curtains, leaving only a narrow gap.

He carefully poked the telescope through it and aimed at room 604 in the apartment building opposite. Only after confirming that the view was clear enough did he sit back down on the bed.

"It'll be at least another two hours before Cyril goes out." Lorry carefully recalled Detective Stuart's report and gave a quiet, cold snort.

He removed False Face and soaked it in a cup filled with clean water. Reclining against the less-than-clean single bed, he began considering his next moves.

Around half past noon.

Lorry sat on a low stool, holding his homemade telescope in one hand to watch room 604 opposite, and a warm Desi pie in the other, chewing slowly.

A glass of sweet iced tea sat on the small tea table beside him to help combat the heat.

Suddenly, his pupils contracted. The heavy curtains in the target room were drawn back, and a bare-chested man stepped onto the balcony to stretch his limbs.

The man was tall and powerfully built, with bulging muscles evenly distributed across his arms, chest, abdomen, thighs, and calves. He looked immensely strong.

His features were as sharply defined as carved stone, and his short blond hair was untidy. Even without a trace of anger, he exuded an intimidating presence, like a lion surveying its domain.

Most striking of all were his eyes.

His grayish-white right eye was filled with coldness, betraying no human emotion. A black patch covered his left eye, and a conspicuous knife scar lay below the eyelid.

It was the leader of the Wanderers Mutual Aid Association, "One-Eye" Cyril!

Plop.

The Desi pie in Lorry's hand fell to the floor.

"Finally..."

The instant he saw Cyril, his expression froze. Memories of his time with the old man in Koyar Village flashed through his mind.

In the end, they all turned into a deep hatred for Cyril.

"It's not time yet. At the very least, I need to find out whether he has any protectors hiding in the shadows besides his two visible bodyguards.

"Especially protectors with Beyonder powers.

"Those are two completely different things."

Lorry forcibly suppressed the surge of emotion in his chest, refusing to let his feelings dictate his actions. He picked up the sweet iced tea and took a large gulp, helping himself regain his composure as quickly as possible.

He quietly watched Cyril finish stretching and turn toward the living room adjoining the bedroom. He could just make out two other figures moving inside.

It wasn't hard to guess that they were the two attendants Detective Stuart had mentioned, who followed Cyril everywhere and doubled as his visible bodyguards.

Since Cyril hadn't bothered to close the bedroom door behind him, Lorry could even clearly see what the three of them were having for lunch.

-Extra-thick meat pies from Intis, roast meat, and beer.

After eating, they left the apartment and walked to the Sanson Bar.

This was one of the Wanderers Mutual Aid Association's businesses. Known for its Intis-style dancing girls and cheap drinks, it enjoyed a modest reputation in the surrounding streets.

As one of the best pickpockets, the body's original owner had been rewarded with visits here several times.

About fifteen minutes later, Cyril and his companions entered the Sanson Bar.

Since the bar only opened after dark, it wasn't yet open for business. Lorry couldn't follow them inside and could only wait in the café opposite.

According to Detective Stuart's findings, Cyril came here for entertainment practically every day, staying until the early hours before returning to his apartment to sleep.

Thus, Lorry had prepared himself for a long stakeout. He even planned to slip inside once the bar opened and continue watching Cyril.

Time passed slowly.

An hour and eighteen minutes later, the bar's front door opened again. Cyril and his two attendants emerged, hailed a carriage, and headed east.

"Are they going to the dock district?"

A thought struck Lorry, and he quickly headed toward the carriages outside the café.

The Wanderers Mutual Aid Association had another business in the dock district, but the body's original owner hadn't known exactly what it was. He only knew that Glowa had previously been in full charge of it.

The Sanson Bar, the dock district business, and the Pickpocket Gang-these three operations jointly sustained the Wanderers Mutual Aid Association's finances and supported its many enforcers.

Lorry had arrived at this conclusion through a mixture of deduction and guesswork, drawing on the original owner's fragmented memories and Detective Stuart's findings.

He directed his coachman from inside the carriage, following the target carriage at a distance.

However, after they had traveled some way into the dock district, carriages gradually became scarce.

After weighing his options, Lorry decided to stay here and wait.

This is the shortest route into and out of the East Borough. There's a seventy percent chance I'll catch Cyril here... If I fail, I can start watching him again. That's better than alerting the target... With that thought, he acted decisively.

What happened later proved one thing:

He had made the right choice.

At around half past four that afternoon, the familiar carriage appeared again.

Lorry patiently waited for their carriage to pass, then hurried to the area where hired carriages waited for customers. He picked up the target's trail again, following discreetly.

He discovered that after leaving the dock district, the target headed straight for another street in the East Borough.

This was a place Lorry-or rather, the body's original owner-knew very well.

-The pickpockets' headquarters.

"So Cyril's schedule today was to inspect his businesses?" Lorry belatedly realized why the man's movements had been unusual that day.

And so, after taking a long, winding circuit, the two parties returned to the Sanson Bar one after the other at dusk.

At half past eleven that night, Lorry left early and returned to apartment building 198.

He set up his telescope and carefully watched the pedestrians on the street. Sure enough, just as Detective Stuart had said, he spotted Cyril around midnight.

Five minutes later, the gas lamps in room 604 opposite lit up.

Cyril's two attendants carefully checked every corner. After confirming there was no danger, they reached out to draw the heavy

curtains shut.

"There doesn't seem to be a problem...

"Detective Stuart's investigation and my own surveillance both confirm that Cyril really does live in room 604 of apartment building 3.

"But wasn't getting that answer a little too easy?

"Cyril is a gang leader who operates in the East Borough, after all. He's never short of rivals who want him dead. Could his lair really be this easy to find?"

Lorry lowered the telescope and sank into a long silence.

Between the vigilance honed through years as a pickpocket and the warning from his own spirituality, he had a sense of impending danger that was difficult to put into words. Something just felt wrong.

"First, let's assume room 604 is a trap..."

Lorry changed his approach, trying to analyze Cyril's actions from the opposite perspective.

Gradually, his expression grew grave.

"Am I just scaring myself? A little test should tell me."

Lorry took a deep breath and slipped quietly out.