Borrowing Strength

As for how to probe the situation, Lorry's first instinct was to report it.

Call the police, or even notify the Three Great Churches.

There was no other reason for it. He had once lived in a stable era, and going to the police when something went wrong had become an instinct practically engraved in his bones.

But after careful consideration, Lorry soon dismissed the idea.

An East Borough gang leader clearly did not warrant the Three Great Churches' personal attention, and calling the police would do little good either.

That was without even considering the East Borough police's lackadaisical work ethic.

From what the original owner of his body knew, Cyril had private dealings with quite a few police sergeants.

Moreover, his investigation now suggested that the Wanderers Mutual Aid Association had the backing of nobles from Empress Borough. That made this route even less viable.

When the time came...

He, the one making the report, might end up being the one in trouble instead.

Living in this world is so hard...

As thoughts crowded his mind, Lorry could not help lamenting silently.

He turned into a secluded alley to deal with the negative effects of False Face, briefly checked his bearings, then headed toward the Red Thorn Bar.

It was the Bloodhand Gang's headquarters.

Thanks to the original owner's experience running with the Pickpocket Organization in East Borough, Lorry knew full well that the Bloodhand Gang was the Wanderers Mutual Aid Association's greatest enemy.

The two gangs had a long-standing feud. Calling it a fight to the death would be no exaggeration. Both sides were only holding back now because a suitable opportunity had yet to arise.

Two thirty in the morning.

The Red Thorn Bar was still bustling.

The band played furiously onstage, while the dim dance floor was packed with men and women shaking their heads wildly as they danced, a hint of frenzy on their faces.

When Lorry pushed open the bar's black doors, the wave of noise that hit him nearly knocked him over. Only by pressing both hands firmly over his ears could he barely stand it.

He looked around and headed straight for the nearest bar counter.

The bartender looked him up and down, then shouted:

"Want a glass of your homeland's secret-recipe happy water?

"Only six pence!"

No, thanks. I'm from Loen, and the only happy water I drink is the couch-potato kind... Lorry glanced at the dance floor. He had no intention of trying this contraband, which only went on sale after midnight.

He tapped the counter with a bent finger. "A half-and-half."

"Two pence." The bartender curled his lip and picked up an empty glass to mix the drink.

Lorry took two coins from his pocket and rolled them across the counter, then casually picked up several crumpled sheets of paper nearby. East Borough's bars attracted bounty hunters not merely because they offered a place to unwind, but also because they were well connected, and bounty notices could often be found there.

The bartender glanced up at Lorry without stopping him. He pushed the finished half-and-half forward, then turned his gaze back to the dance floor.

"Seeking a swindler who fraudulently obtained goods worth 300 pounds... two pounds for valuable information... twenty pounds for capturing the swindler..."

"Recruiting bodyguards to accompany a ship at sea. Estimated round trip: a month and a half. Must be skilled in combat and firearms, and not prone to seasickness. Weekly pay: five pounds..."

"Recruiting caravan guards..."

Lorry sipped the mixed alcoholic drink through a straw as he idly leafed through the notices. Suddenly, his gaze froze on one of the sheets.

He saw his own photograph on it!

"...ten pounds for valuable information... one hundred pounds for capturing the person in question... note: this individual is skilled at makeup and may disguise himself using the following faces. Habitual gestures include..."

At some point, the bartender had turned back toward him. He remarked casually, "That kid seems to be a wanted criminal."

"If you find him, you can collect another bounty from the police station."

Good thing I was cautious enough to buy False Face before coming to East Borough... Shaken by the close call, Lorry calmly turned the page and continued browsing, muttering under his breath, "What did this fellow do to be worth a hundred pounds?! Goddess above, if only I could catch him..."

He gulped down the rest of his drink and leaned slightly forward over the counter.

When the bartender looked over, Lorry lowered his voice.

"I'd like to sell some information."

The bartender shrugged and tossed the empty glass into a bucket behind him. "We only sell drinks here. If you want to sell information, go find those bounty hunters."

"Really? What a shame." Lorry deliberately sighed. "I thought information about 'One-Eye' Cyril might fetch a good price."

He glanced back at the dance floor and asked:

"I didn't buy any happy water. Can I still go dance for a while?"

The bartender watched him silently, then gave a slight nod.

The dance floor.

I despise you people who only care about looks... Pushed to the edge of the dance floor, Lorry watched everyone else pair off and grumbled inwardly.

To be fair, his dancing was not bad.

Provided all this twisting, turning, and bouncing counted as dancing.

After all, his physical abilities had been enhanced by the Potion. Even on his first attempt, he could master these simple movements in a short time.

Unfortunately, Lorry currently wore the face of a Southern Continent native.

His character model was not exactly great.

His clothes were cheap too, so naturally, none of the girls took a liking to him.

This is so awkward. A respectable guy like me really isn't suited to places like this... why hasn't anyone come looking for me yet... good thing I already went to the washroom...

He moved his body to the rhythm and let his thoughts wander freely.

Suddenly, a sweet, fresh fragrance drifted toward him.

Before Lorry could react, he felt a slight coolness against his palms. A woman with wavy green hair and an Intis-style dress appeared before him.

She wore a white half-mask, revealing only eyes the same color as her hair and full, glossy lips.

"You dance well. Care to join me?"

The green-haired woman winked and smiled, her lips curling gently.

Just then, the music suddenly grew lively. Without waiting for Lorry's answer, she clasped both his hands and raised them overhead, swaying her hips to the beat.

Lorry had no choice but to follow her steps.

The song ended.

The green-haired woman was slightly out of breath. Tiny beads of moisture glistened beside her pert nose, and her red lips looked even more lustrous in the dim light.

She waved a hand to indicate that she needed a short rest.

"Shall we go out for a drink?

"My treat."

After speaking, the green-haired woman paused, then said, "In In-

"-tis, no one refuses a lady's invitation. Everyone would consider it ungentlemanly."

Lorry laughed at that.

"Unfortunately, this isn't Intis.

"And I'm no gentleman.

"My treat."

"Heh, you're amusing. This way." The green-haired woman smiled with pursed lips and walked half a step ahead of Lorry, leading him to the door of a private room.

Lorry stopped, and the green-haired woman turned to look at him.

She was still smiling, but now her eyes glittered with nothing but coldness.

"Why have you stopped?

"You deliberately mentioned Cyril to the bartender. Wasn't this exactly what you wanted?"

As she spoke, two burly men appeared from each end of the corridor. They wore black trousers and white shirts, with red kerchiefs pinned to their left breast pockets.

They quickly approached and surrounded him.

Lorry had heard before that this was the Bloodhand Gang's standard attire.

"Go inside. The boss is waiting for you.

"But if you can't provide any valuable information, I'm afraid there'll be another man's corpse floating in the Tussock River tonight.

"The Bloodhand Gang doesn't tolerate such flippant provocations."

The green-haired woman took off her mask and raised an eyebrow toward the private room.

"Go inside.

"I don't want to say it a third time."