Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 126 Bonfire Party, Two Letters

Wall's expression turned serious, and he interrupted Yuri: "Whatever you want to say, I'll say one thing first. Sislow has escaped."

Yuri's smile froze on his face instantly.

"He was seriously injured, but he still managed to escape through the underwater tunnel."

"Hurry up and notify the Metropolitan Police Department to issue an arrest warrant for him," Wall said through gritted teeth. "We should pray that those mad dogs in the church will step in and bring him back. A first-tier extraordinary who has lost everything and is hiding in the shadows will be a huge problem if he seeks revenge."

Yuri frowned and immediately turned to instruct Hevil, who had been standing by the door.

Hevi understood immediately, pushed open the door and quickly went out to arrange the matters concerning the wanted notice and the bounty.

"Then let me tell you about my troubles." Yuri pulled out a chair, sat down, lit a new cigar, and amidst the swirling smoke, his expression became unusually grim. "The Iron Fist Gang's business has come to a standstill this year."

Siren stood quietly to the side, listening. He knew the Iron Fist Gang; this gang was famous for its boxing skills. It originally started as a gang in the downtown area, and its style of doing things was similar to the Razor Gang—brave and ruthless.

Later, they started a car dealership business, which I heard is doing very well.

"They tore up the cooperation agreement from five years ago."

Yuri exhaled a puff of smoke. "Just yesterday, they attacked one of our outposts and wounded three of our brothers. I think this is a big problem."

Wall's face also darkened: "They want to take over White Crow Wharf?"

"Obviously."

Yuri sneered, "Their land market is saturated. If they want to continue expanding, they can only try to seize our shipping routes. The open and covert struggle between the two powers is now in full swing. They are testing our bottom line."

After briefly explaining the background, Yuri and Wall began to discuss in hushed tones how to proceed, how to mobilize manpower, how to retaliate, and even how to assassinate the enemy leader.

They make no attempt to conceal their presence in Xilun, clearly regarding it as one of their core combat forces.

But Xilun took a step back.

"I'm going out now," Xilun said casually, turning around to open the door and walk out.

He didn't want to get involved in this all-out gang war too early.

His primary task now is to digest the Great Sea Whale Guiding Technique and improve his own strength.

It was still afternoon when I walked out of the Internal Affairs Building.

On the open space at the dock, everyone was already busily setting up for the party.

Piles of firewood were set up, barrels of cheap ale were brought out, and the aroma of roasted meat began to fill the air.

Xilun made his way through the crowd and returned to the Golden Rooster Hotel.

He quickly packed up the things he had brought back and planned to change into clean clothes.

Standing in front of the slightly mottled mirror, Xiren took off the coat that was stained with the smell of blood.

He rubbed his bare wrist, thinking to himself that he needed to buy a watch, otherwise it would be inconvenient to accurately calculate the time when on missions or underwater.

When I went downstairs, the hotel owner, Morrie, was sitting behind the counter, dozing off.

Hearing footsteps, Morrie opened his eyes and saw it was Siren. He immediately put on a smiling face: "Sirien, would you like some afternoon tea? Freshly baked oat cookies."

"No, thank you." For once, Xilun showed a slight smile. "I'm going to the bonfire party at the docks later, so I have no intention of eating anything now. I need to save my stomach for later."

Morrie yawned and remarked, "I really envy you young people; you always have so much energy. Go on, enjoy your glory."

Xilun walked out of the hotel and headed towards the bustling commercial district along the street.

As he walked, he pondered what else he could buy to adorn himself, besides a watch.

For example, a top hat? But he's not a fan of hats; they would obstruct his vision and affect his perception of his surroundings.

As he passed a tastefully decorated shop, Xilun suddenly stopped in his tracks.

This is an umbrella shop, with all kinds of exquisite umbrellas displayed in the window, but what attracts Xilun is a subtle brass sign hanging at the entrance of the shop—a pattern of a crossed cross and an eye.

In her introductory occult course, Daisy mentioned that this was a secret mark of certain shops that served extraordinary individuals.

Xilun pushed open the door and went inside. The brass bell on the door rang out with a clear, crisp sound.

The shop was filled with a faint smell of pine resin and tung oil.

A gentleman wearing a monocle and a tuxedo was standing behind the counter, wiping the umbrella handle with a velvet cloth.

Hearing the noise, the gentleman looked up, his gaze sweeping over Siren: "Sir, what kind of umbrella would you like to buy?"

Halfway through his sentence, his gaze suddenly lingered on the back of Xilun's hand for a moment, a glint of light flashing behind his monocle.

He put down the cloth in his hand, a professional smile playing on his lips. "So you're a big shot from the Extraordinary Ones. Looks like we're going to make a big score today. Do you have any special requirements for the umbrella?"

Xilun glanced expressionlessly at the flashy umbrellas on the shelf and said calmly, "What kind of umbrella won't get in the way during a fight? The sturdier the better."

The man pondered for a moment, a glimmer of understanding flashing in his eyes.

He turned and walked to the last shelf at the back of the shop, carefully taking down a long, narrow black wooden box.

He walked back to the counter, opened the wooden box, and inside lay a slender black umbrella.

The shopkeeper, his white-gloved fingers gently tracing the umbrella handle, spoke in a voice as if reciting a poem: "Sir, you have excellent taste. In London's unpredictable and treacherous weather, a good umbrella is a gentleman's second backbone."

He took out the umbrella and showed it to Xilun: "Look at this handle. It's made of pure Malacca rattan imported from the East Indies, and it's been hand-polished seven times. It feels warm and smooth like jade, and it will never slip out of your hand in battle. The ribs have abandoned the easily broken traditional whalebone and have been replaced with top-grade tempered steel from Sheffield. Even if a strong wind blows on the banks of the Thames, it will never flip over."

The shop manager suddenly opened the umbrella with a loud "bang": "As for the umbrella surface, it's made of heavy silk coated with our secret waterproof wax. Rainwater will roll off like pearls without leaving a trace."

After the introduction, the store manager handed the umbrella to Xilun.

Xilun took the umbrella and examined it for a while. It was a good umbrella, with a moderate weight and excellent center of gravity. But he wasn't satisfied with that.

"I'm quite satisfied," Xilun said, looking at the store manager. "But do you have any umbrellas of even better quality?"

The shop manager was taken aback: "This is already a top-quality handmade umbrella."

"By 'good quality,' I mean—" Siren narrowed his eyes slightly, "the better the better!"

The store manager gave Xilun a deep look, then turned and walked to the area under the counter, where he laboriously dragged out a heavy metal box.

He opened the box and took out the largest black umbrella inside.

This umbrella looks similar to the previous one, but the canopy has a strange, matte sheen, and the ribs are a whole circle thicker.

"The canopy of this umbrella has extremely fine alchemical steel wires woven into its layers," the shopkeeper lowered his voice. "It can withstand short-range shots from a pepper-box pistol and can even, to some extent, resist the damage from the qi of low-level extraordinary individuals. You can take a look."

Xilun was taken aback, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.

He took the umbrella, gripped both ends of the canopy with both hands, and forcefully tore it outwards.

With his terrifying strength as a first-order baptized being, ordinary silk should have been torn to shreds long ago, but the umbrella remained completely still, without even the slightest deformation.

Xilun was increasingly satisfied.

He slightly used a trace of the corrupting power of the Dorok Dark Claw Technique, his fingertips glowing with a faint dark golden light, and squeezed the umbrella ribs again.

Only then did the umbrella ribs let out a faint groan, as if they were about to collapse under the weight.

"Very satisfied." Xiren withdrew his strength and closed the umbrella. "I'm really lucky to have been able to buy such a bulletproof umbrella. How much did it cost?"

The shop manager glanced at the few fine white marks on the umbrella ribs, his eye twitched, and he swallowed hard. "Eight pounds. No bargaining."

Xiren felt a pang of pain in his heart. Eight pounds—that was almost half a year's salary for an average worker.

But he knew that in battles between extraordinary beings, such an umbrella, capable of unexpectedly stopping bullets, was definitely worth more than its price.

He readily took out his wallet, counted out 8 pounds of banknotes, and handed them to the shopkeeper.

After buying the umbrella, Xilun went to the watch shop next door and spent less than a pound on a precise mechanical watch.

By the time everything was ready, night had fallen.

Xilun carried the heavy black umbrella and walked towards the dock to attend the bonfire party.

The bonfire party festivities continued late into the night.

The towering flames illuminated the night sky above White Crow Wharf as if it were daytime, the foam of cheap ale overflowed from the rim of the wooden barrels, and the grease from the roasted meat dripped onto the charcoal fire, making a sizzling sound.

The sailors danced wildly around the campfire, and the usually reserved dockworkers let loose, laughing unrestrainedly under the influence of alcohol.

Siren sat on a wooden crate a little distance from the campfire, holding a glass of untouched ale, quietly watching everything.

He seemed like a ghost detached from everything, completely out of place amidst the hustle and bustle around him.

Even as bold women came up to him to toast him, and even tried to sit on his lap, he simply met their gaze with that calm look.

Then, raise your glass.

The next day, Xilun slept until noon before opening his eyes.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, casting a blinding patch of light on the dusty wooden floor.

Xilun sat up sleepily, feeling the slightly sluggish blood and energy in his body caused by a hangover and excessive relaxation.

He walked to the sink and rubbed his face hard with the icy water, forcing himself to wake up.

Although his body recovered remarkably well after the baptism, the disruption to his biological clock still made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

After getting dressed and going downstairs, I found only a few guests eating their late lunch in the hotel's restaurant on the first floor.

Morrie was wiping the bar with a rag when he saw Xilen come down. He stopped what he was doing, shook his head with a sigh, and said, "Young people are so healthy. They can sleep at midnight and get up by noon. If I, with my old bones, dared to stay up that late, I probably wouldn't even be able to get out of bed the next day."

Xilun walked to the bar, ordered a simple toast and hot milk, and said with a wry smile, "I'm not used to it either. I definitely won't drink at this kind of party next time."

"Oh, right." Mori pulled two letters from under the counter and handed them to Siron. "The postman delivered them this morning; there's a letter for you."

Judging from the postmark, one letter was sent from overseas.

Xilun took the letters and opened the first letter while eating his slightly dry bread.

He recognized the crooked handwriting on the envelope as belonging to Finn at a glance.

Finn was one of the few friends he made at the bottom of society.

There was a little bit of machine oil stain on the letter paper.

In his letter, Finn excitedly told Siron that his merchant ship had recently made a voyage to the southern continent and earned some extra money.

He used the money to buy coal for the winter and a new overcoat for his family.

In the latter part of the letter, Finn rambled on about his experiences at sea, the enormous sea creatures, the strange islands, and his words were filled with hope for life.

Looking at those simple words, a slight smile unconsciously crept onto Xilun's usually cold and hard lips.

"A letter from a friend?" Mori asked casually, noticing Siren's expression.

Xilun nodded slightly, carefully folded the letter, and put it into his pocket.

Morrie sighed, a hint of melancholy flashing in his eyes: "Friends are hard to come by. When you get as old as I am, you'll find that your friends are passing away one by one, and in the end, you'll be left all alone, guarding this pile of broken memories."

While Morrie was still lamenting the ruthlessness of time, Siron had already fallen into deep thought.

Finn was an honest man who worked on ordinary merchant ships without the protection of extraordinary individuals, where he was always at risk of dying from encounters with pirates or other supernatural beings.

Given Xiren's current position in the Brotherhood, he hopes to give the other party a helping hand.

If there is an opportunity.

"After I finish what I'm doing, I need to find some time to go see Finn at his workplace."

Silen secretly pondered, "If I could transfer Finn to the Brotherhood's ship, even if it's just to do logistics, I could at least take care of him a little and he wouldn't have to risk his life for that meager salary anymore."

Having made up his mind, Xiren picked up the second letter.

The envelope of the letter was made of expensive parchment, and the seal was stamped with a cross emblem in red wax.

This is the logo of the Iron Cross Fight Club.

Xilun's eyes sharpened instantly. He tore open the envelope and pulled out the letter inside, which exuded a faint scent of ink.

The letter was written by Renn's mentor himself, and it was extremely brief, containing only a single sentence: "His Excellency Lund will return to Saint Laurent City in three days. Come to the club to see me."

Xilun suddenly raised his head and glanced at the clock on the wall.

The letter was sent two days ago, but because he was on a mission at sea, it only arrived in his hands today.

If you calculate the time, the "three days later" that Mentor Ryan mentioned is today!

Lord Lund, the true mastermind of the Iron Cross Fighting Club, a "High Knight" who has stepped into the third tier.

In Xilun's mind, this was the most important person he could currently reach, standing at the very top of the pyramid.

Xilun quickly stuffed the remaining bread into his mouth and gulped down the last mouthful of hot milk.

He stood up, grabbed the black umbrella leaning against the bar, and pulled out four pennies with his other hand.

"Check, please!"

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