Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Xilun lowered his collar, his tone still calm, but with an undeniable pressure, "Now can you tell me what happened? This might be related to your son's whereabouts."

Carlo wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

He hesitated for a moment, then sighed, as if he had aged ten years in an instant.

"It's...it's the Razorfen Downs."

Carlo lowered his voice, as if afraid of being overheard by the shadows in the corner, "A few days ago, the Razor Gang came to collect 'security fees,' and the price went up a bit. I... I really couldn't afford it, so I argued with them for a bit, and... I even hit that arrogant young man, and then they unilaterally cut off my supply."

Xilun nodded slightly.

It's an old-fashioned, but very effective method.

"Who did it?"

"It's a small-time leader named Erma."

Mentioning that name, a flicker of fear crossed Carlo's eyes. "He's the nephew of the Razor Shield leader, and also the gang's 'Swordsman.' I've heard... I've heard he's about to become an Extraordinary, and he's incredibly ruthless. I really can't afford to mess with him."

The person wielding the knife.

The nephew of the leader of the Razor Gang.

Approaching the level of extraordinary first tier strength.

Xilun quickly sketched out a chain of clues in his mind.

The supermarket is running out of stock and is facing closure.

Carlo must have been complaining day and night at home, even verbally abusing Canavie for being useless.

Although Kanavi is weak-willed, it is precisely because of this weakness that he is prone to doing extremely foolish things when pushed to the brink.

He wanted to prove himself.

He wanted to help his family solve this problem.

"Where does Irma usually go?" Siren asked.

"He...he likes to drink at the 'Dragon Bar' or race cars on that street nearby," Carlo answered instinctively, then realized, "Why are you asking this? Could it be that Canavita...?"

Carlo's face turned deathly pale.

He also realized a certain possibility.

Would that usually timid son really dare to go to the razor-wielder of the Razor Gang?

"He's courting death."

Xilun coldly uttered a sentence and turned to leave.

"Wait! Please..."

Carlo's panicked cries came from behind, but Xiren had already pushed open the door and stepped out, his figure disappearing at the end of the street.

It got completely dark.

The gas lamps by the roadside lit up, their dim yellow glow swaying in the cold wind.

Siren walked down the street.

Beyond the bustling commercial district, the surrounding buildings gradually become dilapidated and crowded.

The air here is filled with the smell of cheap perfume, alcohol, and vomit.

Neon signs flickered with an ambiguous glow in the night, and scantily clad prostitutes stood trembling on the street corner, their eyes numbly scanning the passersby.

This is the territory of the Razorfen Downs.

Chaos, disorder, and a strong sense of violence permeated the air.

Xiren pulled his hat brim down low, put his hands in his pockets, and gripped the loaded "Pepperbox" pistol tightly in his right hand.

Although he already possesses expert-level fighting skills, he is never blindly confident.

When facing gang members, a gun is fast from seven paces away. Within seven paces, the gun is both fast and accurate.

Ahead, a huge neon sign stood out starkly in the night.

An image of a fire-breathing dragon with the words "DRAGON BAR" written below it.

Dragon Bar.

Several modified two-wheeled motorcycles were parked at the entrance, their thick exhaust pipes resembling the fangs of wild beasts, radiating scorching heat.

Xilun did not go in directly.

He stood in the shadows across the street, peering inside through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

There weren't many people in the bar.

The air was thick with the stench of cheap tobacco, sour rye beer, and male hormones.

The dim gaslight struggled through the smoke, casting dappled shadows.

Xilun's gaze swept across the room like a hawk's, and soon he locked onto a familiar figure at a table in the corner.

Kanavi.

The kid was wearing a faded training uniform with an ill-fitting jacket over it.

He sat there alone, with two glasses of wine in front of him.

That's the "Flaming Whiskey" from the bar, one glass costs a shilling.

Kanavi sat very upright, his hands gripping his knees tightly, his knuckles white.

He was trembling.

Even across the street, Xilun could sense the fear and tension emanating from him.

"idiot."

Xilun cursed inwardly.

A novice who has never even seen blood, trying to negotiate with a gang leader with just two glasses of wine?

This is like washing your neck clean and then sending it to someone's knife wound.

Xilun took a deep breath and adjusted his breathing.

Now that we're here, we can't just watch this kid die.

After all, this kid had helped him a lot and was one of the few friends he could talk to.

Xilun crossed the street and pushed open the heavy door of the bar.

The heat and noise hit you instantly.

Instead of heading straight for Kanavi, he strolled leisurely to the bar like any other patron.

"A glass of dark beer."

Xilun tossed out a silver coin, his eyes scanning his surroundings through the reflection in the bar mirror.

The situation is worse than we thought.

Just diagonally behind that table in Kanavi, sat five or six young people.

They had strange hairstyles, tattoos of the Peabody & Razor gang on their arms, and a flippant yet fierce look in their eyes.

From the moment Xilun entered, these people's eyes swarmed around him like flies.

Intentionally or unintentionally, there was a dismissive air about it, as if it were scrutinizing its prey.

One of the young men, wearing a leather jacket, was playing with a butterfly knife.

The blade flashed and danced between his fingertips, its cold light gleaming.

The other guy sitting at the very back had his right hand always inside his clothes, which was bulging.

It's a gun.

Xilun picked up his glass and took a sip of the bitter dark beer.

These people are in cahoots.

Xiren put down his glass, turned around, and walked straight toward Kanavi.

His footsteps were drowned out by the deafening music.

It wasn't until he pulled out a chair and sat opposite Kanavi that the extremely nervous boy suddenly snapped out of his daze.

"Who?!"

Kanavi nearly jumped up like a startled rabbit.

Upon recognizing Xilun, the fear on his face instantly turned into astonishment, followed by immense panic.

"west...Xilun? What brings you here?"

Kanavi's voice trembled as he desperately tried to signal to Siren with his eyes, "Get out of here! This isn't a place for you! Get out of here!"

"Is this what you meant by 'something happened at home'?"

Xilun didn't move, only glancing indifferently at the two glasses of wine on the table. "Inviting someone for drinks? This wine is good, one shilling a glass, enough for you to have a beef meal."

"Never mind that!"

Canavie, sweat beading on his forehead, growled in a low voice, "I'm waiting for Irma! I need to talk to him! This is my only chance! You'll ruin things if you stay here, they... they're all crazy!"

"Shall we talk?"

Xiren laughed, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "What do you have to offer? These two glasses of wine? Or your rudimentary martial arts skills?"

"I..." Kanavi stammered, his face turning bright red.

Xilun held a glass of barely touched rye beer in his hand, his gaze coldly scrutinizing the trembling young man opposite him through the amber liquid.

I'll repeat it one last time.

Siren's voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the noisy bar, carrying an undeniable penetrating power: "Go back immediately. Even losing your job is better than losing an arm or a leg. You're still young, Kanavi."

Kanavi sat opposite him, his hands gripping the fabric at his knees tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force.

His legs were trembling uncontrollably under the table; it was a physiological fear.

He raised his head, his eyes filled with struggle and hesitation, which finally turned into a near-desperate determination.

"No, Siren."

Kanavi shook his head, his voice hoarse. "Please let me stay. I want to help my father... If the supply chain is cut off this time, the family will be finished. My mother is sick, and I can't watch all of this happen."