Chapter 353 – Informants, and Underground Waterways

Chapter 353: Informant, and the Underground Waterway

After two consecutive days of snowfall, the weather briefly cleared up and seemed to dispel the haze that had been hovering over the city-state, and the frost woke up once again as it always did – snow removal trucks and snow-removal equipment began to clear the snow from the main roads, the old high-pressure gas pipelines and electric power systems once again stood up to the test, and the factories and public transportation systems began to operate once again.

The sounds of all kinds of vehicles and machines are in full swing as the sun rises.

However, beneath the surface of this gradual awakening, a strange and tense atmosphere is gradually spreading in the city – even the ordinary people in the city have finally noticed this change in atmosphere.

The first news came from the newspaper, the city hall’s urgent announcement of the control notice made those who were more keenly informed smell the uneasiness, followed by all kinds of rumors from the coastal neighborhoods, the news about the Sea Mist fleet appearing near the city state spread, and then, all kinds of true and false news spread in the streets and alleys.

The recent mobilization of the city’s security forces, the gathering of Guardian troops around several cemeteries, the frightening news coming out of certain neighborhoods – mixed with the bizarre story of the “return of the dead” that had been spreading through the city since a month ago – all these disturbing things seemed to have suddenly come together. All of these disturbing things seem to have suddenly come together and started to spread quietly in the city.

The city-states on the boundless sea were like crowded pigeonholes, separated from each other by the sea, but people could hear each other at hand, and there was nothing more difficult than passing news between the city-states, and naturally, there was nothing simpler than passing news within the city-states.

But even so, life goes on, news of the unrest only spreads from street to street, while citizens go out and work as usual, at most talking about the strange atmosphere in the city right now when they squeeze onto a bus or meet in a tavern – a little stress is not enough to disturb the functioning of a city-state.

Ultimately, the people who live in this world are used to the gloom and doom of their lives, and for them, strange and bizarre happenings in the city are the norm, with the vandalism of the cultists and the occasional nocturnal freak being part of their daily lives – a city that is still peaceful and quiet after nightfall is abnormal.

On the corner of Cemetery 4 and Oak Street, a tavern called the Golden Flute was getting busy.

The Golden Flute is a cheap tavern for the general public, and is the perfect place to stop before going to work – it doesn’t just serve drinks, but also decent coffee and a simple breakfast to refresh and take the edge off the cold. Not just drinks, but decent coffee and a light breakfast to keep the cold at bay, and a bit of chatting during breakfast is a welcome diversion before the day’s hectic work begins.

The tavern’s waiters were busy shuttling between several round tables, the clerk was behind the bar receiving customers, warm yellow light poured down from the roof, dispelling the winter’s chill, while a middle-aged man with a long, thin face and withered hair sat on a chair not far from the bar, casually flipping through the newspaper in his hand while keeping an eye on the store out of the corner of his eye.

The place was a little noisy, with the occasional crude joke or unrestrained profanity – most of the people who came here were not the so-called “upper class”, but more ordinary people from the lower city who went to work in the industrial zone, and they gathered here to take advantage of the little time for breakfast. They gather here, taking the time over breakfast to discuss what’s going on in the Lower City or the factory districts, or just to judge the city-state for its recent changes.

Their opinions are mostly shallow and boring, and not much attention is paid to what these people have to say about the city.

As long as they didn’t get into fights in the store, then everything was fine.

The middle-aged store manager with withered hair turned the paper to the next page and yawned a bit bored.

Then, he felt as if his surroundings had quieted down a bit – followed by what seemed to be something blocking the light spilling down from above.

The store manager looked up and saw a lanky figure standing right in front of him.

The other party was wearing a pitch-black trench coat reminiscent of nightfall, with a high stand-up collar blocking most of his face, and a wide-brimmed bowler hat that pressed down like a dark cloud, blocking out all prying eyes from the outside world, while in the only gaps between the clothes, the only thing that could be seen were layers and layers of bandages.

The majestic sight was hidden in the shadows of the low-pressing bowler hat.

A sense of pressure that was hard to ignore just from the visual aspect came upon him, and the middle-aged shopkeeper with withered yellow hair almost instantly felt his heart stifle, and a look of panic involuntarily surfaced in the bottom of his eyes, and his first reaction was to mistake the other party for a clergyman of the Death Sect – because those pious priests liked this kind of “bandages” that was a bit too much for the ordinary people. The first thought was that he had mistaken him for a cleric of the Death Cult – because those devout priests liked to wear the “bandage costume”, which was a bit excessive for ordinary people – but then he realized that the black-robed man was not wearing the triangular mark of the Church, nor was he carrying the special cane that was standard for guardsmen.

After a moment of panic, the middle-aged shopkeeper forced himself to calm down, and when he saw that there were three other people behind this stout figure, namely a young lady of similarly impressive height, an old man who looked kind, and a blonde woman with a veil on her face and a noble and mysterious aura, he couldn’t help but have a rapid turn of thoughts in his mind.

Is specifically rushed to their own “guests”, see this dress is absolutely not good, the kind of hidden flow of heavy momentum can even let themselves are breathless …… is the central city of the secret magistrate? Or is it someone sent by the other forces of the cold sea? Why did they come to find themselves? Threats, pulling in, or …… something to ask for?
He put the newspaper in his hand aside and calmly got up, tilting his head to look at the black-clothed men in front of him, “Who are you looking for?” “Mr. Nemo Wilkins,” Duncan noticed the panic and nervousness under the eyes of the middle-aged man in front of him, obviously forced by his own aura, but it was intentional – he was observing the other man’s reaction, which would expose the truest changes in the other man’s moods that would help determine whether a person had been affected by cognitive interference or memory revision, “Is that your name?”

“Everyone here knows my name,” Nemo Wilkins nodded while gently waving his hand at the clerk not far away, “A few of you here to see me? But I’m just an honest businessman ……”

“The sea has been fogging up a lot lately, and the winds are cold,” Duncan said slowly, while reaching into his arms and fumbling for the map of the city-state that had been prepared by Tirion’s own hands, “We need a good cup of wine to warm our stomachs – preferably to keep a dead man’s hearts and guts warmed.”

Nemo’s breathing changed slightly the moment he heard the words, “The sea is often foggy, and the wind is cold”, and then his eyes fell on the map of the city-state.

This “shopkeeper” hid all his emotions and changes in his eyes extremely well, in fact, except for that momentary change in his breathing and heartbeat, from the outside we could not tell that there was any difference in him at all, but it was such a small reaction that still did not escape Vanna’s eyes.

“Looks like it’s him.” Vanna said softly.

Duncan nodded softly and put the folded map away, “Is there a place on the second floor?”

“The upstairs is full,” Nemo shook his head, “Follow me.”

With that, he stepped away from the counter and guided the few uninvited guests towards a door by the stairs.

The tavern was still noisy with people, and even if someone had noticed the commotion here at the counter, no one was paying too much attention to what was going on.

Duncan and his party followed behind Nemo’s storekeeper, and they passed through the slightly short wooden door into what appeared to be a passageway leading to a warehouse at the back of the store, only to burrow through another door in the middle of the passageway, and down a sloping ramp for a long distance – until it felt as though they were well out of the tavern’s confines on the ground level , they came to a halt in front of a dark, heavy wooden door.

“This place is deep.” Maurice couldn’t help but grunt.

“No harm in being cautious, anyone associated with the Sea Mist Fleet is not welcome in this city,” Nemo Wilkins said as he walked towards the door, “Enemies are everywhere – even if half a century has passed. ”

“How did you dig up such a place under the noses of the city-state authorities?” Vanna’s focus was not quite the same as the others, as an Inquisitor she was more concerned with the skills of a “gray intermediary” hiding in the city-state, “How did you get the rocks and dirt out of a tavern when you had to dig such a long tunnel underneath it? How do you hide the movement while digging?”

Nemo Wilkins turned his head slightly, glancing at the unusually tall white-haired lady with a smirk in his tone, “It’s simple – there’s no need to dig, it’s already part of the Frost’s underground waterways.”

As the words fell out of his mouth, the dark, heavy door was also opened, and with a creaking sound, the glow of the gas lamps was reflected in the eyes of Duncan and his party.

Along with it, there was the faint sound of running water coming from nowhere.

Duncan’s eyes passed through the door, and saw that the opposite side was an unusually wide “hall”, which seemed to be an old sewer crossing, and in the distance there was a corridor stretching into the darkness, and there were tables, chairs, beds, and shelves in the corners of the hall, which seemed to be inhabitable.

It even looked habitable, and a lot of people could be stationed there.

(End of chapter)