Mystery: When the Lost Homelanders Meet the Lost Homeland Call

"Let's use some of the money to buy food first," he said. "Bread, milk, potatoes, smoked meat—buy whatever's cheapest. Today, I want every family in the dock area and Lower Street to have a good meal."

Despite lacking relevant historical knowledge, the experienced old Neil still vaguely sensed Lynn's purpose.

He wanted to proclaim that the old era had ended and a new order had begun. When those who had never been hungry received the food, they would understand that the person standing before them was different from those who only squeezed blood and sweat from them.

Lynn and Old Neil split up.

Old Neil took the cash he had seized from the Hammer Gang and went on a shopping spree at the nearby bakery, grocery store, and market. His extravagant spending left all the vendors speechless.

"I'll take all the bread."

"Pack all the potatoes."

"How much milk do you have here? I want it all."

The merchants initially thought it was a nobleman's steward making purchases, but when Old Neil announced the quantities, they realized something was amiss. This wasn't purchasing; it was clearly a clearance sale.

But no one refused. Money was exchanged for goods, and no one was cheated, young or old; who cared who they were?

Some people tried to raise the price, but Old Neil revealed the mark of the Hammer Gang leader, so they obediently sold it at the original price.

This is also part of the life experience of the elderly.

Lynn then went to the streets and alleys of the dock area, knocking on doors one by one.

"After daybreak, there will be food at the dock area square."

He repeated the phrase over and over, walking from the deepest part of the street to the edge of the dock, from the dilapidated apartment to the damp basement. Faces huddled in the darkness peeked out from under the door, looking at him with a mixture of expectation and suspicion.

Is there any food?

These three words mean so much in this era. For those who eat only one meal a day, or even go several days without a full meal, "having food" is the best news.

"Really?" A gaunt woman peeked out from under the door, her cloudy eyes gleaming faintly.

“Really,” Lynn said. “After dawn, at the dock area square.”

He turned and left, heading towards the next door.

The news spread like wildfire.

"There's food available at the dock area plaza!"

"I heard he's a very kind person; he used all the gang's money to buy food!"

"Storm above! The Hammer Gang has been captured! Everyone's been captured!"

"Really? That Iron Hammer Gang?"

"I saw it with my own eyes! There were over a hundred people piled up in the square, all tied up with ropes, like pigs waiting to be slaughtered!"

  

"By the goddess above... finally someone has taken care of them..."

-

Early in the morning, the fog in the port area of ​​Tingen had not yet dissipated.

The crimson moonlight was replaced by the greyish-white light of the sky, and the sea rippled with leaden-grey ripples. In the distance, factory chimneys had begun to spew smoke, black coal smoke drifting in the morning breeze like dirty ribbons.

On the dock square, more than a hundred people, bound like dumplings, lay sprawled about. Some were still unconscious, while others had woken up but could only writhe on the ground like worms because the ropes were too tight, uttering muffled whimpers. A morning breeze blew by, and some shivered from the cold; others, having lay there all night, had half their bodies numb and couldn't even turn over.

At the edge of the square, old Neil, wrapped in a black robe, sat on a wooden crate, sipping a hot coffee he had borrowed from a nearby tavern.

He had already swept up enough food, and the dozen or so hired men next to him were busy preparing the food distribution stalls. He was also the one who spread the news that the Hammer Gang had been arrested.

He took a sip of coffee, looked at the crowd in the square, and then at the city awakening in the distance. Suddenly, he felt that the world seemed to have changed.

In the past, he only thought of these gang members as a cancer on society, scum that should be eliminated. But he never imagined that one day they would be tied together like dead dogs, waiting to be judged.

What he found even more unbelievable was that the person who did this was a powerful being.

In his mind, high-ranking powerful beings should be concerned with evil gods, religions, and grand issues that could destroy the world. They might favor a believer or bless a church, but they would never personally go to a city's slums to meddle in such a "trivial" matter as a group of gangsters bullying a girl.

But Lynn did it anyway, and he did it more thoroughly than anyone he had ever seen.

When Lynn returned, it was already broad daylight, and Old Neil heard his voice before he even saw him.

"It's all thanks to your meticulous work; I didn't even think of having the workers pass on the message."

"Just a little bit of cleverness," Old Neil said modestly.

"Not at all, I really don't have much social experience," Lynn said naturally. "I knew you could be of help."

The morning mist had not yet completely dissipated, but the square in the dock area was already crowded with people.

They stood at the edge of the square, whispering among themselves around the group of gang members tied up in the middle. Those thugs who usually swaggered around the streets were now lying on the ground, bruised and battered. Some were still unconscious, while others had woken up but were unable to move because they were bound by ropes. They could only look at the crowd around them with terrified eyes, as if they wanted to devour them.

"Residents of the dock area!"

Lynn stood on a box and shouted. His voice wasn't loud, but every word was clearly heard throughout the square and even reached farther places.

"I am Lynn. This morning, I destroyed the Hammer Gang. They are all here, not one of them left."

The square fell silent for a moment.

Then, a buzz of discussion arose like a tide.

"The Hammer Gang has been destroyed?"

"How could that be? That's the Iron Hammer Gang! They've been operating in the dock area for over a decade!"

"Who is that person? What gives him the right?"

"I know that guy who's tied up! That's Jack, a thug from the Hammer Gang! He's the one who smashed up my shop last time!"

The discussions grew louder and more varied; some were terrified, some doubtful, some excited, and some incredulous. But most chose to stand at a distance and observe, not daring to approach.

They feared it was a trap set by the Hammer Gang, and they also feared the stranger was from another gang, and that getting close would bring trouble. The Hammer Gang had been operating in the dock area for over a decade, accumulating not only money, but also fear. This fear was ingrained in the bones of the dock area's residents, making them think of retreating rather than cheering when they saw hope.

Lynn glanced at the crowd and quickly understood the reason. He then shouted:

"I'm distributing free food here, everyone gets a share, and they can take it home to their families."

Meanwhile, the workers who were paid to do the work started setting up their stalls, selling steaming bread, hot soup, smoked meat, and black coffee, all emitting an enticing aroma.

The first person to come out was a woman.

She was probably in her early thirties, wearing a faded coarse cloth dress, her hair wrapped in an old headscarf, her face bruised, and her left arm in a sling. She walked slowly, pausing after every step, as if checking something.

Lynn recognized her; she was one of the girls and women forced into prostitution who were locked up in a brothel belonging to the Hammer Gang, and one of the people Lynn had released.

She walked to the stall next to Lynn, looked at the bread on it, then at Lynn, her lips trembled slightly, and then she spoke, her voice hoarse:

"Sir...may...may I take one?"

"Sure." Lynn jumped off the crate, picked up a loaf of bread and handed it to her, then placed a piece of smoked meat on top of the black bread. "You're welcome. This was bought with the Hammer Gang's money. This money was originally squeezed out of you, and now it's just being returned to you."

The woman took the bread, holding it in both hands as if it were a precious piece of porcelain. She lowered her head, looked at the ordinary black bread, and tears suddenly streamed down her face.

"I...I haven't had bread in a long time," she said. "It's potato soup every day, sometimes there aren't even any potatoes..."

She cried quietly, without wailing or hysteria; her tears simply fell drop by drop onto the bread, dampening a small patch of the hard crust.

Lynn took two more loaves of bread from the stall and stuffed them into her hand.

"Get one for your family too. You can come back for more if you need more. Around noon, the Hammer Gang will be tried here, and you and your family can come and watch."

The woman froze, then nodded vigorously, clutching the two loaves of bread, and turned to walk out of the square. After a few steps, she suddenly stopped, turned back to look at Lynn, and bowed deeply.

"Thank you, sir."

Her actions were like a key that unlocked a gate.

Another person came along, an old woman, hunched over, leaning on a cane. She walked to the cart, reached out shakily, took a loaf of bread, said "thank you" to Lynn, and then turned and left.

Then came a middle-aged man, dressed in work clothes stained with coal dust, with deep wrinkles on his face, short, thick fingers, and black grime under his fingernails. He took a loaf of bread, didn't leave, but stood to the side, looking at the group of bound gang members with a complex expression.

More and more people came over.

There were workers, vendors, washerwomen, beggars, children, and the elderly. They formed several long, not-so-neat but orderly lines, taking bread one by one from Lynn and the other workers. Some took one and left, some said a few more "thank yous," some asked, "Are these gangsters really not coming back?", and some said nothing at all, simply taking the bread silently and turning away in silence.

Lynn sent them one by one and responded to them one by one.

"You're welcome."

"Yes, they won't be coming back."

"No proof is needed; anyone can take it. Everyone gets a share."

"Take one extra and give it to your neighbor. Give it to those who can't come."

When more than two hundred loaves of bread were distributed, a girl of about fourteen or fifteen years old stood in front of Lynn, followed by seven or eight young women who were dressed in shabby clothes and had injuries on their faces. They stood in a row, looking at Lynn with nervousness, expectation, and fear in their eyes.

"Sir," the girl said, "these are...people like me. After you released us from that place last night, we didn't know where to go. We have no home, no family, nothing..."

She bit her lip.

"Could you...could you take us in?"

Lynn stopped making bread and looked at the women.

They were all quite young, the youngest looking only eleven or twelve, and the oldest no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight. They all looked terrible, with sunken eyes, chapped lips, some with injuries on their bodies, and some with eyes as empty as stagnant water.

They were abducted, tricked, and forced by the Hammer Gang from all over the country, and some were even intercepted from the slave trade. They were forced to sell their bodies in the dark corners of this city, day after day, year after year, until they were completely exhausted.

They no longer have the concept of "home".

Lynn was silent for a few seconds, then said, "I can't guarantee anything right now, but you can stay here for the time being. There's still a lot to do today, and I need some help."

He pulled a wad of loose change from his pocket and handed it to the girls: "Go buy some clothes and food for everyone. Take care of yourselves first. From today onwards, you are no longer anyone's property."

The girl took the banknotes, her fingers trembling slightly. She gave Lynn a deep look, then turned and left with the other women.

Lynn watched them leave and sighed. When he said they were not property, fear flashed in many people's eyes. For them, having no one to protect them was equivalent to death.

Unfortunately, this is indeed the case; the concrete jungle is still a jungle, and the law of the jungle applies to slums as well.

Establishing a new "gang" is of utmost urgency.

Lynn called Old Neil aside, and once again invoked powerful spirituality, "defining" it into a state that Old Neil could use: "I need you to do something for me."

"Please speak."

"Help me pick some people from this crowd." Lynn pointed to the residents eating bread, chatting, and gossiping in the square. "Pick the smarter, the honest ones, and those with some reputation in the neighborhood. No age, gender, or occupation restrictions. Anyone trustworthy is fine."

"I have something important to do in a little while, and I need a lot of help. I can't handle it all by myself."

Old Neil didn't ask any more questions, nodded, and turned to walk into the crowd.

Lynn returned to the handcart, took out a stack of ledgers and documents he had brought back from the Hammer Gang headquarters. He placed the ledgers on the ground, opened them one by one, and began to organize them.

He read very quickly, flipping through each ledger only a few times before putting it down, but his eyes had already memorized all the information. He was organizing the sources and destinations of the Iron Hammer Gang's funds over the years: who borrowed money at high interest rates, who signed indentures, who was forced to sell their property, who was extorted, and who was bought off to become their protectors.

Each stroke is clear and distinct.

This is the weapon he's going to use today.

Meanwhile, the girls Lynn had arranged to rescue from the Hammer Gang's stronghold were also busy. They changed into clean clothes, washed their faces, and combed their hair. Although their complexions were still terrible, at least they looked like human beings.

Lynn asked them to help maintain order, guide the crowd, and distribute food. They did it very seriously and diligently, as if they were trying to prove that they still had value.

Neil's method of selecting people is very simple: he uses intuition.

One Sequence Nine intuition is naturally not enough, but what if this Sequence Nine connects with even more spirituality than Sequence Three, and is even more adept at it?

He overcame skill with brute force! In less than an hour, he selected twenty people.

There were men and women, old and young. The oldest was a fisherman in his sixties who had lived in the dock area for over forty years and knew everyone; the youngest was a fourteen-year-old girl who was as thin as a bamboo pole, with eyes as bright as stars, and it was clear at a glance that she was very intelligent.

Lynn gathered these people together.

"I know you're all confused, not knowing who I am or what I'm going to do," Lynn began, her tone calm and sincere. "But I can tell you one thing—today, you will become witnesses to the history of Tingen."

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across everyone's faces.

"I have all the Iron Hammer Gang's ledgers. All the money they've squeezed from the dock area, from Lower Street, from you and your neighbors over the years, how many loan shark loans they've taken out, how many people they've driven to their deaths, how many families they've ruined—it's all here."

He patted the ledger on the ground.

"Today, I'm going to return all this money. Not a penny less."

The crowd stirred.

The old fisherman took a step forward, his cloudy eyes gleaming: "Sir, are you telling the truth? You really can return our money?"

"Really," Lynn said, "but I need your help."

He began assigning tasks.

Some people went to inform the remaining residents of the dock area and the lower street that "the Hammer Gang has been destroyed, all IOUs, contracts and promissory notes will be destroyed in public, and all the stolen money will be recovered and returned," and urged them to come over as soon as possible.

Some people went to prepare the venue. The square needed to be cleaned, a temporary platform needed to be set up, tables, chairs, pens and ink needed to be prepared, and someone needed to maintain order.

Another group of people were tasked with compiling statistics on who had borrowed money from the Iron Hammer Gang, who had been extorted, who had signed indentures, and whose properties had been seized. All of this had to be clearly recorded.

“It’s recorded in the ledger, but the ledger isn’t necessarily complete,” Lynn said. “You know the dock area better than the ledger does. You know who’s been bullied, who’s been ripped off, who’s lost their family because they couldn’t pay their loan sharks. Write their names down and bring them here. Today, everything will be settled.”

After listening, the twenty people remained silent for a few seconds, and then moved at the same time.

Lynn looked at the sky. The morning mist had dissipated, and the sun had risen high in the sky, peeking out from behind the clouds and casting a golden glow across the square.

Old Neil glanced at the dense crowd in the square, walked over to Lynn, and whispered, "Sir, the food has been almost distributed. I'm afraid most of the people from the dock area and the lower street have already arrived."

Lynn nodded, walked up to the platform, stood at the highest point, and looked down at the tired, numb faces below, their backs bent by the weight of life.

"My name is Lynn," he said. "A sailor. A man from a faraway place. A man who dislikes seeing people bully others."

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the entire square.

"I destroyed the Hammer Gang early this morning. All the core members are here, not one missing."

"I'm here to do only three things. First, distribute food. Second—"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the group of gang members in the square.

"Secondly, look at these people."