Chapter 282: This is East Borough

Inside the soon-to-be abandoned medical school building, Audrey suddenly

felt adrift as she took a detour to leave the gathering which had just

ended. She saw the familiar thick gray fog and the blurry figure

situated in the center high above.

"This is a clue."

Accompanying Mr. Fool's solemn voice were scenes that looked like a film

reel, a colored one at that!

A man who wasn't particularly muscular but was nearly two meters tall in

height was wearing a black priest robe and standing in the shadows. His

light yellow hair was slightly curled, and his dark brown eyes were cold

with malice. The corners of his mouth drooped slightly, making him look

like a ferocious wolf.

*A clue? A clue to the bombing on East Borough's Dharavi Street and

Gavin's drowning? Is this the murderer?* Audrey stared blankly

for a moment before immediately coming to an understanding.

Mr. Fool already has a clue... He's really impressive---*No,

he's omnipotent.* After sighing to herself, she turned to look

at Fors.

As soon as Fors removed her mask and surgical cap and got into the

carriage, she noticed Miss Audrey's slightly strange gaze. She

immediately asked in puzzlement, "Is there something on my face?"

"Nope." Audrey looked away and sat down before removing her disguise.

Fors recalled the gathering and asked curiously, "Miss Audrey, why

didn't you announce that you were purchasing the Spectator formula? You

could've established contact with the Psychology Alchemists that way."

She remembered that the generous Miss Audrey had remained silent most of

the time and only sold some spirituality-infused materials and responded

to buying other varieties accordingly.

Audrey smiled faintly and said, "This is my first gathering in this

circle. I think it's more important to observe and wait.

"I'm looking forward to the potion formula and even more so, the

mystical items, but I told myself that there's no rush. It would be a

better strategy to familiarize myself before taking action."

*This is also a 'professional habit' of the Spectator pathway. Moreover,

there were no Beyonder ingredients like Dark Patterned Black Panther

Spinal Fluid or Spring of the Elves Marrow Crystals which Mr. World

wishes to obtain...* Audrey silently added.

Looking at the girl who wasn't eighteen yet, Fors suddenly felt that she

was more mature than ever before.

She suddenly laughed at herself and said, "If I had been like you back

then, I wouldn't have wasted such a precious opportunity."

Audrey gave a reserved smile as a response before saying, "I'll ask some

special friends in the morning if they have any leads on the Dharavi

Street bombing. Wait for the information at the same place with Xio."

"Alright." Fors nodded without any doubts.

Instead of returning to Minsk Street, Klein slept in the one-bedroom

apartment in East Borough's Black Palm Street.

He was afraid that the suspected murderer in the black priest robe had

accomplices who could be searching the streets for him.

Although the probability of meeting him wasn't high, and he had

disguised himself ahead of time so that it was unlikely he could be

recognized, his divination indicated that there was a possibility. To be

cautious, Klein made do and decided to spend the night at East Borough.

At dawn, he changed into another dark blue worker's uniform, put on a

light brown cap, and left the room. He went down the stairs and into the

street.

At that moment, the white fog with a yellowish tint shrouded the

surroundings. There were blurry figures of people passing by, and the

cold morning air was soaking into their clothes.

Klein lowered his head and hurried along, just like the people around

him who had gotten up early for work.

While walking, he saw a man in his forties or fifties ahead of him. He

wore a thick jacket and had gray hair around his temples. He was pacing

in place and fumbling for a cigarette while shivering. Finally, he took

out a box of empty matches in his clothes' inner pocket.

Just as he opened the matchbox, his right hand quivered, and the

crumpled cigarette fell to the ground and rolled in front of Klein.

Klein stopped, picked it up, and handed it to him.

"Thank you, thank you! I can't live without this old friend. There's

only a few left," the man thanked him sincerely and accepted the

cigarette.

His face was pale, and he appeared to not have shaved for quite a while.

Exhaustion was expressed without reserve from the corner of his eyes as

he lamented, "I haven't slept for another night, I don't know how long I

can last. I hope the Lord will bless me so that I can enter the

workhouse today."

He's a homeless person who has been chased away. Klein

casually asked, "Why doesn't the king and ministers allow all of you to

sleep in the park?"

"Who knows? But to sleep in this kind of weather outside, it's very

likely that you'll never wake up again. It's still better in the day,

since you can find a warmer place. Sigh, but this will make us lack the

time or strength to look for jobs." The man lit a cigarette and sucked

at it delightfully.

As though he had some of his strength restored, and he walked beside

Klein. It was uncertain if his destination was at the end of the fog or

somewhere deep into the fog.

Klein had no intention of exchanging pleasantries and was about to speed

away from him when he saw the man, who had spoken clearly, bend down and

pick up a dark object from the ground.

It looked like an apple core that had been nibbled clean.

The man swallowed his saliva before stuffing the dirt-covered fruit core

into his mouth. He chewed it until it was mashed up before swallowing it

down with great familiarity. Nothing was left.

Looking at Klein's surprised eyes, he wiped his mouth, shrugged his

shoulders, and smiled bitterly.

"I haven't eaten in almost three days."

This sentence struck Klein's heart, causing him to feel indescribably

moved.

He silently sighed and said with a smile, "Sorry, I didn't introduce

myself just now. I'm a reporter, and I'm currently writing about

homeless people. Can I interview you? Let's go to the café up front."

The man froze for a moment before he smiled and said, "No problem, it's

much warmer inside than on the streets.

"If you can stay a little bit longer after the interview and let me

sleep inside for half an hour... No, fifteen minutes! That would be even

better."

Klein turned agape, momentarily at a loss for words. He just silently

led his "interviewee" into the budget café at the end of the street.

The tables and chairs in the coffee shop were quite greasy. Due to the

walls and windows inside, there were quite a few guests. The average

temperature was indeed much higher than the streets.

The man scratched his throat, concealing his Adam's apple that was

squirming from the fragrance.

Klein motioned for him to sit down and went to order two large cups of

tea, a plate of lamb stewed with young peas, two loaves of bread, two

pieces of toast, a serving of low-quality butter, and a serving of

artificial cream for a total of 17.5 pence.

"Have some food to eat. We'll have the interview after you eat your

fill." Once the food was ready, Klein carried them back to their table.

"This is for me?" the man asked with anticipation and surprise.

"Except for a piece of toast and a cup of tea, the rest is yours." Klein

smiled in response.

The man wiped his eyes and said with a slightly choked voice, "...Y-you

truly are a kind-hearted person."

"After starving for so long, make sure not to eat too quickly," Klein

warned.

"I know, I had an old buddy who died just like that." The middle-aged

man worked hard at eating at a slower pace, occasionally lifting his cup

of tea and gulping it down.

Klein easily finished the toast and watched quietly, waiting for the man

to finish his meal.

"Phew, I haven't eaten until I was this full in three months, no---half

a year. In the workhouse, the food they give is just enough." After a

while, the man put down his spoon, leaving empty plates in front of him.

Pretending to be a journalist, Klein asked casually, "How did you become

a tramp?"

"It was bad luck, I was originally a worker leading quite a good life. I

had a wife, two cute children, a boy and a girl, but a few years ago, an

infectious disease took them away, and I also stayed in the hospital for

a long period of time, losing my job, my wealth, and my family in the

process. From then on, I often couldn't find a job, and I didn't have

any money to rent a house or buy food. All I could do was wander on the

different streets and in certain parks. This made me very weak, making

it harder for me to find a job..." the man spoke with a hint of

nostalgia and sadness in his numbness.

He took a sip of his tea, sighed, and spoke again.

"I can only wait for an opportunity to enter the workhouse, but as you

know, every workhouse only takes in a limited number of people. With

good luck, and if I queue up in time, I can spend a few days in peace,

recover my strength a little, and then find a temporary job. Yea,

temporary. Soon, I'll be jobless again and the previous process will be

repeated. I have no idea how much longer I can last like that.

"I should've been a good worker."

Klein thought for a moment and asked, "How many cigarettes do you have

left?"

"Not many left." The middle-aged man smiled bitterly. "This is the last

of my assets, the only thing I have left after I was chased out by the

landlord. Heh, one can't bring them into the workhouses, but I'll

secretly hide them in the seams of my clothes. I'll only take one out to

smoke during my worst hardships so that I can have some hope. I don't

know how long I can last, but let me tell you, I was a good worker back

then."

Klein wasn't a professional journalist and was momentarily at a loss on

what to ask.

He turned his head to look out the window and saw faces with obvious

hunger plastered across them.

Some of them were relatively sober and they belonged to the residents of

East Borough. Some of them wore looks of numbness and exhaustion,

nothing like that of humans. They were tramps.

*There is no obvious gap between the two, the former can easily become

the latter. For example, the gentleman in front of me...* When

Klein looked back, he discovered that the man had fallen asleep; his

body curled up on a chair.

After a few minutes of silence, Klein went to pat the man awake and gave

him a handful of copper pennies.

"This is the payment for the interview."

"Okay, okay, thank you, thank you!" The man didn't realize what was

happening, and when Klein reached the door, he raised his voice and

said, "I'll go to a budget motel and get a bath, get a good night's

sleep, and then get a job."

At noon, Klein attended a party at the Sammers. There were ten guests.

There was apple juice with steak, roast chicken, fried fish, sausage,

cream soup, lots of delicacies, two bottles of champagne, and a bottle

of red wine.

On his way back from the bathroom, he met Mrs. Stelyn Sammer. He thanked

her sincerely, "It was a sumptuous lunch. Truly delightful. Thank you

for your hospitality."

"It cost a total of 4 pounds and 8 soli. The most expensive were the

three bottles of wine, but they were all part of Luke's collection. He

has a liquor cabinet." The pretty Mrs. Stelyn smiled in response.

Without waiting for Klein to speak, she said, "You earned ten pounds

from Mary's matter alone, and if you can keep up the good fortune,

you'll soon be able to have a banquet like this. For people of our

class, you have to invite friends once a month and also be invited by

friends."

Klein, who was already used to her mannerisms, obliged politely, "Well,

I'll have to wait till my income settles at four hundred pounds a year

before I can be like you."

Stelyn immediately raised her chin slightly and tried hard to make her

smile faint.

"430 pounds, it must be 430 pounds."

Dock area, East Balam Dock, Workers Alliance Tavern.

Xio wore boots that gave her height a huge boost and stuck on a thick

beard, making herself look like a short man.

She tried to recall the portrait from Miss Audrey, trying to engrave in

her mind the image of the man who might have been the murderer.

*If Gavin had been killed by him, the murderer probably frequents this

tavern...* Xio ordered a glass of rye beer and a lunch set

before huddling in a corner and eating slowly. From time to time, she

would look around furtively in search of her target.

After a while, the tavern's door was pushed open again, and Xio

reflexively looked over.

With just one look, her pupils shrank so thin that they resembled

needles as she nearly became petrified.

The patron who entered was nearly two meters tall!