Chapter 93: The Frenchman’s Fantastic Drift
Chapter 93 – The Frenchman’s Fantastic Drift
Outside the door of the rented house, a group of young punks wearing backpacking pants and duck caps lined up in order to walk up the narrow staircase.
As they walked they were still discussing what to do later.
“James, I heard from Smarty that the kaiju who took the bait this time is quite strong and tall, so later on, you go in with a knife first and try his reaction. If he jumps out of the window or out the door with his bare ass, then let him out, we’ll get the money easily, he’ll save face and honor, and we’ll all be happy.”
“If he dares to resist, you weigh his weight first, and if you think you can’t deal with him alone, you’ll just call out for someone, and we’ll rush in right after him.”
“Be careful when you do it, and be careful not to expose the true relationship between us and Fiona. Don’t push him too hard either, if you really push him, he might jump over the wall, if he holds Fiona hostage, he might cause a death.”
A few punks came outside the room and leaned over the door to listen with their ears, yet after half a day no sound of movement was emitted.
The gangster who looked like the leader frowned and asked in a low voice, “What’s going on? Did Fiona not bring him here?”
“No way, the other room is being used by Hannie, Fiona couldn’t have taken him there.”
Just as the mongrel was wondering, a low moan suddenly came from the room.
“Uh-uh-uh! Help …… life ……”
The gangsters then put their hearts down, and someone couldn’t help but curse, “Fuck! After half a day, it’s because she’s about to pass out! She hasn’t signaled for so long, it seems that this time the kaiju is very much to her liking!”
“What should we do? Should we wait for Fiona to finish?”
“Wait my ass! We’ve got to go to Hannie’s later, it’s peak shipping season and the docks are full of customers, so let’s get this one closed and let Fiona do the next one.”
“Get out of the way! James, we’ll wait outside while you prepare to kick the door in.”
With those words, the punks quickly flashed to the side of the building for cover.
The punk named James, on the other hand, felt out the butcher knife in his arms, took a deep breath, and recalled the classic plot that had been performed countless times.
He then kicked open the door of the room and rushed inside with his knife raised, cursing.
“Fuck! You stinking bitch, I knew you were sneaking men back outside again. Once, twice, I tolerated it, but you still don’t fucking know how to repent, is this really believing that I don’t have a temper! See if I don’t cut this stupid bitch to death today!”
Normally, when James finished reading this line, the sound of women’s shrieks and men’s cries of cries for mercy were about to come from the house.
Yet strangely enough, the opening scene of the day had just finished, but there was no follow-up.
The room was silent, not only was there no crying scene of the female Fiona asking for forgiveness, nor was there an impromptu recitation of the male Kaiser on his knees begging for forgiveness, but even the male supporting character, James, had gone quiet.
After a good while, the ruffians hiding in the corridor finally heard Fiona’s muffled groans of ‘mmm mmm mmm’ echoing from the room again.
The gangsters wondered, “Was it that good? Is James looking stupid?”
The head gangster slapped them on the back of the head, “Fuck! Can’t you see? Something’s going on, you idiots! Guys, get your asses in gear!”
They all flashed the knives hidden in their sleeves and rushed towards the room with a furious rage.
However, before they could reach the door, they saw James slowly exit the room backwards with his hands held high.
Immediately following James’ exit was a flintlock musket pressed against his head and a man who was to be a full head taller than him.
Arthur glanced at the group of punks standing in the hallway and then cocked his head to the right at the stunned James.
James gulped, then in a knowing gesture, released his left hand from his grip on the butcher knife.
Only a choking lang was heard as the blade fell to the ground, smashing out a shower of sparks.
Almost as soon as the butcher’s knife hit the ground, Arthur nonchalantly rushed at him and kicked him hard in the stomach, stomping him into the opposite wall, and James collapsed in agony as he fell to his knees and covered his stomach, not even having the strength to get up.
Arthur didn’t care about him anymore, he raised his pistol and aimed it at the punks in the hallway. “Excuse me, are you the ‘little brothers of Cambridge’?”
The leading punk couldn’t help but take half a step backward, but he quickly reacted, this is the time to never show weakness, in order to make a living in the Eastern District, it is a force of ruthlessness.
He licked his lips, pretended to be relaxed and said: ”Heh! It seems that we are touching a hard point today, I do not know which forest the brother is occupying? Why are you smashing our business?”
“Which forest?”
Arthur remembered some information he learned when he first chatted with Adam, and he blurted out, “If you want to ask me which forest, Blackthorn in London’s West End, carrying a bow and arrow in a crow’s nest, honoring his teacher, Grand Theft Robinson.”
The other party couldn’t help but stare at Arthur as soon as he gave his name: “You’re a fucking St. Giles Old Fellow Fagin? Doesn’t that old man who is almost in the ground specialize in raising handkerchief-stealing brats, and when did he start taking in outlaws like you?”
Arthur said unhurriedly, “There are too many thieves these days, so old Fagin is planning to change the track and develop some new industries, and I heard that you guys are doing a good job in the East End, so I’m here to learn from you, right?”
The gangster leader clenched his teeth as he pulled the corner of his mouth and smiled, “Friend, you don’t need to dish out the road with us here. Tell us the truth, what exactly are you planning to do here? There’s plenty of cheese in the Eastern District, enough for us rats to share, so there’s no need to use swords and guns.”
Hearing this, Arthur nodded slightly, “Okay, I’ll tell you straight then. Have you guys gotten any kidnapping jobs lately? A fat Frenchman with curly hair by the name of Robinson Crusoe.”
“Wow. ……”
The head gangster couldn’t help but drag out his voice when he heard this, “Looks like you got that job from Fred too. But you’re out of luck, we’ve already handed over that pushy fat Frenchman.”
“Sharp color?” Arthur couldn’t help but nod his head when he heard the description, “It does seem that this is an authentic Frenchman. Even if you put a kilt on a pipe, they can’t control their emotions.”
The punk also nodded deeply as he added, “There’s one more thing I have to correct you on, that Frenchman isn’t called any Robinson Crusoe, and we only learned his real name after we beat him up severely.”
Hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but be interested, “Wow? What’s his real name?”
“He said his name was Friday.”
Arthur took a deep breath, he then realized that he had fallen into a misunderstanding and was gradually reacting to what was going on.
If it wasn’t the fact that the informant hadn’t told him the truth, then there was something wrong with the Frenchman.
It was fine for that fat Frenchman to use a fake name to deceive people, but the fake name was also so random, as if anyone hadn’t read Robinson Crusoe.
Misleading the police like that, even if they got him back afterward, they had to let Tom and Tony teach him a lesson.
“Okay.” Arthur put away his pistol, “So, you’re sending the man to Fred’s? 75 Brick Lane, Whitechapel, Blackpool Detective Agency?”
This time, however, the head gangster didn’t answer him.
He saw Arthur put away his pistol, and almost instantly he drew the knives he carried behind his back with red eyes, intending to leave Arthur with some parting gift.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, kid? You ask questions and we have to answer them, you think you’re God?”
Arthur didn’t panic when he saw them pounce, he saw the right moment to stomp on the head punk’s calf on the welt bone.
The punk’s calf was pressurized and his knee couldn’t help but bend, he directly half-kneeled in front of Arthur.
And Arthur also took advantage of this moment, not too slow to re-draw the pistol, and shoved the blackened barrel into his mouth.
With the gun in one hand and the pipe he held in his mouth removed, Arthur brought his face close to the punk.
“Kid, I’m telling you, don’t piss me off, I really hate playing with violence.”
(End of chapter)