Fantasy Writers 1860

The meeting was incredibly boring for anyone except Blackwood.

Almost every time, everyone would nervously report on their recent work, and then he would pontificate and spout nonsense, sometimes claiming to be a senior figure and reminiscing about his glorious days working for his older brother, and sometimes lamenting that the current generation of junior professionals is worse than the last.

The subsequent reflections on shortcomings, summaries of experiences, and development planning were all done by him alone, with everyone applauding and flattering him. It was a complete one-man show, wasting everyone's time.

But Blackwood himself seemed to enjoy it.

After the meeting ended, everyone left quickly as if they had been granted a pardon, fearing that Blackwood might call them back to add a few more words.

But in the end, only one person remained in the meeting room.

This person looks dejected and seems to be in a bad mental state.

"So, what is it that you want to report in secret, Granger?" Blackwood took out a pipe from his pocket and began stuffing tobacco leaves into it.

From the very beginning of the meeting, he received a hint from Granger that he had something to report, but it was not appropriate to do so in this setting.

As one of his confidants, Blackwood and he had agreed on some strange codes.

"It's about the Phantom Book..." Even though there was no one in the room and Granger had closed the door, he still lowered his voice when he said this.

"A phantom book?" Blackwood's hand, reaching for a match, paused slightly. "What's going on? Has the one above been discovered?"

"No, it's good news, we've found a new Phantom Book," Granger said.

"Found a new Phantom Book? Where?" Blackwood relaxed slightly, struck a famous match, lit his pipe, and took a deep drag.

"I don't know. A few days ago, some of my underlings went to collect a debt, but they were attacked by some unknown magical book."

"Those two are still not quite mentally sound, and we can't get any information out of them about what happened that night. Judging from the few words they say, they were definitely influenced by the illusion book..." Granger shrugged helplessly.

"Then investigate them one by one!" Blackwood exhaled a smoke ring, his voice decisive. "The people they're going to collect from are definitely people we lent money to before. Check them one by one. Debt collection is irrelevant, but I must get this Phantom Book."

"With the power of the Illusionary Book, when I advance to become a 'Duke,' you'll certainly benefit from it," Blackwood concluded, not forgetting to offer his confidant a promise.

Granger pondered for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, but ultimately declared with unwavering loyalty, "I will make the arrangements immediately and will certainly not disappoint Your Excellency's expectations," before turning to leave.

"No, wait a minute." As if suddenly remembering something, Blackwood called out to Granger, who had already walked out.

"Perhaps, it doesn't need to be so complicated. Didn't a batch of magical books arrive recently? There's one in there that we could use..."

……

Dorian has been at the Cable Tavern for several days now.

Even though he no longer works at the dock, he still comes here to read the newspaper to everyone after the dock closes in the afternoon, at everyone's earnest request.

The Lentinion Weekly wasn't due for a new issue yet, but there were other cheap newspapers to read for entertainment.

Of course, he doesn't dare to stay too long now. After reading the newspaper each day, he just has a couple of drinks and then rushes home. He doesn't dare to stay any longer.

But today is a little different from before.

As soon as Dorian entered the room, he saw the foreman, Greg, standing silently in the dark corner, beckoning to him.

What does this mean?

Confused, Dorian approached and whispered, "Go away, and don't come back again."

"You know you're being hunted down, right?"

Dorian: ?

I really don't know.

But looking at Greg's serious expression, Dorian felt that the other man was not joking.

Seeing that Dorian remained silent, Greg, assuming he had tacitly agreed, leaned closer to Dorian's ear and said, "The Blue Blood Gang, they probably haven't targeted you yet, but the information I've heard sounds a lot like you. Be careful, stay home as much as possible, and don't show your face in public."

Although he was still a little confused, Dorian nodded with a solemn expression.

"Alright, let's go." Greg patted him on the shoulder, just like when they first met.

Dorian turned and headed straight for the Rope Tavern. Reaching the door, he paused briefly, then turned to Greg. "Thank you. Take care."

Greg just smiled, said nothing, and waved goodbye.

He finally breathed a sigh of relief only after Dorian's figure had completely disappeared.

I don't know what this kid did to offend the Blue Blood Gang, but now all their underlings are spreading the word that they want to find him, claiming it's on the "Lord's" orders.

Perhaps it wasn't him who caused trouble, but his family. The Blue Blood Gang now wants to eliminate them completely.

In that case, everything makes sense. Why would a young master who is literate and educated be reduced to thinking of working at the docks?

Perhaps it was to escape the people who were hunting him down, and because he couldn't find a respectable job, he had no choice but to work in a chaotic place like the docks.

However, this kill order has now penetrated deep into their territory.

Greg recalled his brief time with Dorian, from his initial disbelief that Dorian could persevere when he first came to carry the loads, to his surprise that Dorian actually did, and then to the days he spent reading the newspaper to everyone for free...

The dock area is indeed a mixed bag; just because he wouldn't betray this good young man doesn't mean others wouldn't.

I'm just a small foreman. Besides reminding him and urging him to leave quickly, there's not much else I can do.

Greg walked to the bar, ordered a cheap beer, and gulped it down in one go, trying to suppress the inexplicable irritation in his heart.

Life is hard enough as it is, so it's better to avoid trouble.

……

Dorian hurried back to his rented apartment, glanced around, and quietly closed the door.

Back in his room, he sat on the bed and began to think about some things:

"What have I done to deserve this? Why am I being targeted by the mafia?" Dorian muttered to himself.

Actually, he already had a vague answer to this question while he was on the road.

It was probably a few days ago that Lily and I used the illusion book to drive away those people who came to collect debts from us.

But that day I only repelled them, I didn't even kill them. Is it really worth issuing a warrant for my arrest for such a small matter? They were just two henchmen. A big gang like his would probably lose a lot of people in a single shootout. Would he care about something like this?

Dorian didn't think he was anything special...

No, I am actually a bit special.

He suddenly realized that since it was unlikely that he was only after two henchmen, it was more likely that he was after the Illusionary Book!

"If he's really after the Illusionary Book... should I avoid his attacks?"