"Just tell them V wants to meet them."
"No problem. I'll make sure they get the message!" the man said, straightening his back. He took out a notebook, wrote something down, then tore off the sheet and casually tossed it away.
The paper fluttered downward. Just before it touched the ground, a dark shape darted past the man's feet, and the paper was gone. V caught a fleeting glimpse of scarlet eyes. Only through the Difference Engine could she barely make out that it was a rat a size larger than a dog.
These people seemed to have the ability to control rats to deliver messages?
No wonder they were called the Ratway.
V nodded inwardly.
Come to think of it, this was her first visit to a Secret Society other than the Mourning Poetry Society.
"Can people trade here?"
"Of course." The man's gaze swept over V's palm, and he gave an awkward smile. "We don't have a casino, though. If you're interested, you can take a look aboveground. The Steam Wharf Tavern isn't far from the nearest exit."
The sewer routes were a tangled maze. Without a guide, finding an exit would be difficult.
Not to mention that the Ratway seemed to have deliberately modified this area. That movable wall from earlier certainly didn't look like something City Hall had designed.
The man led the way, taking the wheelchair around several turns until they reached a more open space.
Quite a few people sat on the ground with their figures concealed, the things they wanted to sell laid out before them.
"For trading, buyers pay nothing, but sellers have to pay a small fee," the man explained.
V looked over the rows of stalls and fell silent for a moment.
Elliot was controlling her through the Stage-Play Difference