51 A Pity (1/2)

Fifteen minutes later in the sewer, a burly man covered in tattoos stepped through the dirty water, done cleaning the trash. An old man climbed down the ladder. He stood atop the stone steps, gazing around. Dirty water flowed over his leather boots, leaving a yellow stain.

He furrowed his brows. A cigar dangling from his mouth, he looked around. ”Which direction did they go in?”

Ten lean, vicious dogs sniffed the air. Their bloodshot eyes glared somewhere into the darkness, they began barking wildly. Muscular men tugged at their chains, but the dogs struggled until the chains pulled taut.

Ghost Hand nodded and asked, ”Is it all sealed?”

”Yes, and there are men at every exit.” The leader had a shaven head and a swarm of monsters tattooed behind his ear. His face fierce, he said, ”Those kids won’t be able to escape.”

”Then go. Don’t let them get away.”

The bald man nodded. He pulled on the dogs to begin tracking, but realized that the dogs were rooted to their spot.

Suddenly, they stopped barking. As if they had seen a ghost, the fearless hunting dogs dropped down into the dirty water. No matter how hard the humans hit them, they did not dare step forward.

”Achoo!” Someone sneezed in the darkness. The sound of someone blowing their nose into a handkerchief followed. The person then threw the handkerchief into the ditch and pulled out a new one, tearing it in two.

The handkerchief tore crisply. It seemed to be high grade silk from the East, embroidered with complex flower patterns. Held in the hand, it felt as light as air, as if it would dissolve like fog.

It should have been hanging in a store, shrouded in incense, put up for show, but someone was tearing it apart, stuffing it up their nose.

The man let out a nasally growl. ”It smells so bad here! Why do you rats like to go into the sewer?”

The group of men was angered. They hit their metal sticks and swords against the walls, clanging sharply. Some wanted to go over and see what was wrong with the man.

But Ghost Hand stopped them.

Expressionless, he took a lantern from his underling and held it up.

A blonde youth was illuminated. His black formalwear was completely inappropriate in the sewer. He had a tie and even jewels on his sleeves, as if he was going to an elite dinner party.

He sat on a high chair, taken from somewhere. Under his feet was a thick and soft fleece rug. After he was discovered, he glanced over and waited.

His eyes were full of arrogance and irritating provocation.

It was Hermes.

”The Trader?” Ghost Hand asked coldly.

”Oh, Ghost Hand, you’re still alive…” Hermes laughed and raised a hand. ”I’m back. Do you want a letter? I can give you an iron pomegranate.”

With that, he opened his palm. In it was a circular iron lump. There was a crisscross design on it. At the tip was a thin tube with a small ring.

The ring was like a weird decoration that tempted people to pull it out.

Hermes toyed with the little thing. He looked as if he could not wait to give it to Ghost Hand.

”I don’t need it,” Ghost Hand refused coldly, his eyes dark. ”Shaman already said that you are forbidden to be in this city.”

”Haha! Let the past pass. I accidentally fell into his hands and was a bit humiliated. It’s good to forget those things though, so please don’t mind it too much.”

He laughed carelessly, and then paused. As if puzzled, he revealed a little known secret mockingly. ”And anyway, hasn’t he been gone for a long time now?”

Everyone gaped.

The burly underlings paused, as if they had heard something incredible. Some shot doubtful glances at Ghost Hand. Some were confused, while others had a dangerous look in their eyes.

But Ghost Hand remained cold and expressionless. ”This isn’t something for you to worry about. Even if he’s not here, Avalon is still Shaman’s.”

”Oh, really? But I couldn’t seem to find a bit of loyalty in the mafia.” Seated on his tall chair, Hermes looked down on Ghost Hand. Shaking his head, he tsked as if seeing a rare toy.

”None of the Corsicans, Caucasians, and Indians doing their business in downtown will obey his orders. That old lady who sells kids in the sewer is trying to find a new path too, isn’t she?

”The Shaman is already out of power, Ghost Hand. The newcomers don’t even know who he is. Only you’re still as loyal as a dog, hugging his leg like it’s gold.”

”I don’t want to talk so much.” Ghost Hand walked through the dirty water to look at the road behind Hermes. ”You should move.”

”You want to fight me?” Hermes looked at the black leather glove on Ghost Hand’s left hand. Slowly bending down, Hermes whispered in his ear, ”Don’t forget where you bought that hand from.”

Ghost Hand said, ”The Shaman is looking for two people.”

”The person who’s looking for them isn’t the Shaman, but someone with his keepsake, right?” Hermes laughed and hit his head jokingly, as if suddenly thinking of something. ”Oh, I almost forgot. Someone bought a keepsake from me too. I think his name was Chang…”

”Trader!” Ghost Hand raised his black-gloved hand, and took out the cigar in his mouth. ”You should know the rules here. Don’t get in the way of things.”