old dream

Chapter 190 Betrayal, Yemin

In the same morning, it was raining continuously, and Goldie took up his umbrella as soon as he got out of the car.

As if out of her usual identity, she didn't wear the exaggerated dress that looked like an exotic dress, but a professional black suit and narrow skirt.Not to mention the pointed hat, even the hair is pulled up.

In the slum area of ​​the old city, the road surface has been in disrepair for a long time, and it is so damaged that even a horse-drawn carriage cannot enter.Goldie gaited lightly to avoid the puddle, and the umbrella she opened in her hand swayed slightly.

Even though it was raining and it was clearly a slum, there were many people on the road, people who had nothing to do and were suffering.They were huddled under the narrow eaves and inside the door frame, half of their bodies were drenched by the cold rain, and they kept staring at the people passing by.

Extreme poverty made it difficult for them to think about anything other than food, and the brain became a slave to the digestive organs.But if tomorrow's food is settled, I will be bored again because of the vague peace of mind.Not because of laziness, but because the respite provided by a dozen Aspen simply does not allow them to think about problems further away than tomorrow.

Goldie stood there for a while in the middle of the narrow road, like a doll abandoned in a dump.In the morning, the gloomy light is similar to that of dusk, and it has not changed throughout the day.She stopped for half a minute, and then decided to go to the left.

The men on the left are equally dressed in rags, but several of them have hidden guns on their bodies.

Goldie left in no hurry, and ignored those probing gazes.She pulled a passerby to ask a few questions about the place names here, and there were a few seemingly irrelevant questions.

A single woman walked down the alley, pulling her shawl tighter to her chest as she walked.The hair that is rolled up at the back of the head is fixed with a small comb.

No one stands in her way.

Goldie raised his eyes to search among the dilapidated doors, and finally his eyes fell on an old man.He was wearing a shabby coat, with a messy beard and hair like a lion's mane, and he was listening to the sound of rain with his eyes closed to rest his mind.

A few steps away, Goldie stopped.

"Looks like you know someone from the ninth inning will come over."

She put away her umbrella, also stood by the eaves and said:
"I thought it would be a little troublesome along the way."

After all, he entered the lair of a secret organization with hostility.But judging from the results, Boer's people simply welcomed Goldie here on their own initiative.

The old man slowly opened his eyes:

"You came too late."

"Your reactions are slower than I thought. I thought someone would show up out of nowhere to stop me before I actually did it. So I waited here all day and night, and you didn't show up until six hours after the incident. "

Pohl sat on the stone and calmly criticized:

"If the assassination accident last night was successful, what else can you do? Collect the lieutenant's body?"

Goldie smiled lightly:
"What do you think of the Ninth Bureau? We are far from being so powerful, and the people who are willing to take care of the 'Lieutenant' are only a handful of people in the department."

She looked at the sky, hesitated for a while, and took out the slender cigarette rod from her bag, which did not match her current clothes.she says:
"But even if it's just us, it's still pretty easy to deal with you."

"I think someone should have warned you... It's okay if you want to get the Sincilian's idea, since the Danaro's people have already nodded. Then you can do whatever you want. The only requirement is not to touch the lieutenant. It's our bottom line. We've made it very clear at the showdown, and you're going to give it a try?"

"Why can a lieutenant be your bottom line?" Pohl asked seemingly puzzled.

"Because he is our collaborator, and the Ninth Bureau protects every collaborator."

"Collaborators? Don't make me laugh. Don't you die at your own hands? Why do you go back and forth for this lieutenant?" Boer smiled:

"Could it be that it's because you are still being blackmailed by him? Bureau Nine wants to make money from the bootlegging business, but they still can't get rid of him, so they have to look at his face?"

"Whatever the reason."

After being provoked by Bohr in this way, Goldie also restrained her original soft expression:

"Since you threaten the lieutenant's life, it is tantamount to becoming the enemy of the ninth game."

chi...

The tobacco in the tobacco rod seemed to be ignited by the murderous intent hidden in Goldie's words, and a curl of blue smoke rose.

So I will personally exclude you.

From the eyes of the poor not far away, the old and the young are still chatting, it's no big deal.But in the face of Goldie's actions, a trace of fear flashed in Boer's old eyes.

At this moment, he let go of the idea of ​​provoking the ninth game.Last night, he sent gunners directly to the "Lieutenant" without their consent. He was indeed too arrogant.

But that's all. What Pohl has to do has not changed.

"Actually, there is no conflict between us," he said:
"If it's all about money, then I can offer you better options."

An old man who has spent half his life in a slum, and his clothes seem to be insufficient to keep out the cold, brazenly says that he can fill in the holes of millions of Ori:

"For us, Lieutenant Heinrich must die. In fact, what you care about is not his life or death, but whether the Stade organization will fall apart after his death."

If the Stade Institute collapses as a result, the Ninth Bureau's long-established bootleg business will also be ruined.

"If you can be sure that the Stade Institute will not collapse, then he can die. You even want him to die, isn't that right?"

"..."

The situation of the ninth game was discussed in the other party's dialect, and Goldi remained silent, because this was indeed what most of the participants thought.

"The Lieutenant's death will not reduce your profits."

Next, Pohl pointed directly at the place and said the conclusion: "The Stade Institute will continue to operate."

"You can't guarantee that." Goldie said calmly.

"I'm not making any guarantees, I'm just giving you the facts," Pohl said:

"The truth is, the present lieutenant is just a fake. The real lieutenant Heinrich belongs to me. His name is——Jochen Müller, and the files can still be found."

"So the foundation of the 'Stade Institute' was set up by myself, and half of its core members had a conversation with me. But at that time, Jochen died at the hands of a fake lieutenant. Take away the fruit I have painstakingly cultivated. But it is mine after all."

"If this lieutenant dies, my people have the ability to take over the organization smoothly."

Pole took out a notebook from his shabby coat, the cover was tattered, and there were a lot of patchwork papers in the middle:

"I have reconnected with some of them and asked them to pay attention to the organization's operation process. They are all core personnel, so now, the Stade organization has no secrets from me. And I have found the new leader's Candidates. Even if the lieutenant is suddenly lost, it can continue to make steady profits.”

Goldie flipped through this notebook, which recorded in detail all aspects of the organization's internal situation, and there was also a list of personnel changes after the death of the lieutenant.But she still has doubts:
"...I didn't see the lieutenant's wine transport route from above." After turning to the bottom, Goldie said:
"Didn't you find out about this? I don't think it would work without this..."

"Can this be considered a problem?" Bohr asked strangely:

"Their current inventory is enough for a month. After a month, the private brew in the slums should be barely drinkable."

"If it really doesn't work, just blend it with alcohol. Anyway, you are the only seller in the entire Stade. No matter how bad the quality is, you can charge a high price."

Goldie continued:
"But if the best outcome is the same, why are we taking unnecessary risks?"

Bohr smiled indifferently:
"How much is the current lieutenant willing to give you? 50.00%?"

Goldie looked at Boer, not understanding why even this kind of secret was clearly grasped by him.

"After this fake lieutenant dies." Pohl said:

"As long as you are responsible for supporting the people in the organization, then I am willing to give up all the profits."

"..."

All profits.

Goldie could already imagine that those few greedy people in the sub-bureau would eagerly accept such a condition.

Not only because of the higher profits, but also because the "Lieutenant"'s half-threatening approach during the negotiation made some people dissatisfied with him, and felt that this person was a bit difficult to control and was an unstable factor.

"Bring these news and my conditions to the people behind you."

Pole closed his eyes again, listened to the sound of raindrops and said:

"Let them judge for themselves."

Goldie said nothing. The original purpose of her trip was to get rid of Pol.Now, the situation has taken an unexpected turn.

The lieutenant, the man who wears a mask to fight big with small things, may have really played it off this time.

There is no suspense anymore, the people above will definitely accept such conditions.

But if he pretended not to have heard Pohl's proposal and killed him now according to the original arrangement, he might still save the life of the "Lieutenant".

Do you want to do this?
……

What do you think, of course I don't want it.

Why did she, Goldie, take risks for the person who offended her.

The consequences of concealing it would be dire, so Goldie put away the notepad that Ball had given her, and reopened the umbrella.However, she has yet to get out of the narrow eaves.

Then Goldie looked back as if remembering something:

"As far as I know, this ninth game is very likely to accept your conditions. So here, I will congratulate you in advance."

She was speaking, but the aged Pole didn't seem to hear her voice, his eyes were still closed.

"If it is said that in the future, the lieutenant will die no matter what, but how he dies is not important."

As if her mouth was speaking without authorization, Goldie didn't even quite understand what she was talking about, she subconsciously squeezed the handle of the umbrella in her hand:
"So……"

She said that even her heart was pounding and her lips were too dry to open:

"Wait until then, can you let me do it?"

…………

In the insect market, the insects being used as slaves are being transported into Stade in boats.

Most of them are male insects whose weight is close to that of humans, and they are the main labor force.Larger females are more often used as a tool to increase stocking capacity.

Insects are unable to perform complex tasks, nor can they communicate accurately with humans.The owner can only use a combination of rewards and punishments to train their instinctive conditioned reflexes step by step, and finally they can barely do some repetitive and mechanical actions.

I don't know if this is misfortune or luck.If buggers were smarter, maybe most of the lower class citizens would lose their jobs because of them.But it is also possible that human society will be completely different, and everyone will be a happiness exploiter.

Or, these worms never became slaves in the first place.

Ethnic groups formed by half-humans and non-humans still commonly exist in this world.Most don't sound romantic, they're hundreds of discovered, and many undiscovered races like Bugs, Scales, Grays, etc.From the perspective of human aesthetics, most of them are very ugly, and some are even particularly terrifying because of their abnormally proportioned human figures, but a few are very beautiful.

In addition, there are also some races that seem to come from fairy tales and myths, such as great elves and demons.

In the Middle Continent, humans still occupy a dominant position and have the widest distribution.The non-human and semi-human groups are distributed in the ocean of human civilization like continents and islands, or in remote corners of the continent, but in terms of absolute numbers, they even surpass humans.

In recent years, the terms "non-human" and "half-human" have begun to be criticized as "arrogant anthropocentrism", because the division is based only on the degree of communication with humans.So far, no non-human or semi-human race can communicate perfectly with humans. In the process of deciphering the language, scholars will find that there are a lot of incomprehensible concepts in their culture. The existence that cannot be understood by logic is like randomly formed garbled codes. Even with vague metaphors, it is impossible to describe the approximation of these concepts.And if people of this race are asked to point out or perform the existence corresponding to these concepts with their bodies, either those performances cannot be understood at all, or it seems that they refer to different objects every time.

If these untranslatable parts are skipped and effective communication can still be formed between humans and a certain race, they are called "half-humans".If these parts have made communication impossible, or, perhaps, the other party has not formed a language at all, they are called "non-human".

Insect people are a kind of non-human beings. It is said that they were discovered by explorers in the second century in a cave in the Western Continent, and then they were introduced and gradually cultivated artificially to the present scale.

But among inhumans and demihumans, there is also a controversial outlier.

night people.

Elena walked in the sewer with a lantern in her hand, followed behind Nancy, watching her figure walking in front of her cautiously and curiously.

Just looking at the back, it is completely indistinguishable from humans, but it is also reproductively isolated from humans.

It is said that Yemin followed the Grays through the Eastern Continent and came to the shallow sea.But before the Dark Ages, Old Ankh and the Eastern Continent still maintained frequent trade.According to those detailed records, the humans in the Eastern Continent did not look like this.

It is said that in the hinterland of the alliance, there is a question about whether the Yemen are human, half-human, or inhuman.There has been serious controversy.

Due to some prejudices, most of the time they are classified as non-human, and their status is close to that of insects.

I can only live in the dark and do some of the most shady jobs.

(End of this chapter)