After parting ways with Xio and Lawyer Jurgen, Loen came to the Bravehearts Bar alone.
Before entering the bar, he skillfully adjusted his facial muscles and walking posture, shedding the disguise of "James Scott," which had already become quite famous.
"It's been a while — —"
Looking at the smoke-blackened bar sign, Loen couldn't help but sigh.
Since he had specifically come here to warn Kaspars last time, he hadn't returned. As for Sharron and Maric, they had also ended their regular presence at the bar due to the Indulgence Faction's search.
Recently, their contact had either been Sharron taking the initiative to appear in his office or warehouse for teaching, or Loen going to one of their residences according to a pre-agreed code.
In the past two days, he had heard Sharron mention that Maric seemed to have returned to the bar to handle some matters, and he wasn't sure if he was inside now.
"I always feel that compared to its role in socializing and intelligence, drinking is the least prominent attribute of this bar — —"
Loen muttered to himself while pushing open the creaking wooden door.
In the evening, the bar wasn't very crowded; there were only a few scattered guests, each occupying a corner, silently drinking the half-full beer in their glasses.
Having eaten some snacks at the cafe in the afternoon, Loen wasn't very hungry. He walked up to the bar, ordered a glass of South Will beer, took a small sip of the liquid with its malt aroma, and then said leisurely to the bartender: "Is Kaspars Canining here?"
The bartender's action of wiping the glass paused slightly; he lifted his eyelids to glance at Loen, his tone flat: "You haven't been here for a long time, it seems?"
"Some private matters." Loen glossed over it vaguely.
"Kaspars isn't here." The bartender lowered his head and continued wiping the glass, "He left, he left Backlund in a hurry a few weeks ago, and there has been no news since. I guess — — he doesn't intend to come back."
"So — — has he retired honorably?" Loen's mouth curled slightly, making a joke.
He had been the one to persuade Kaspars to leave back then, but he hadn't expected the other party to execute it so thoroughly, leaving without looking back.
"Who knows," the bartender shrugged, "Anyway, the money he earned over the years is enough for him to soak in a beer barrel for the rest of his life — —"
"Then, is anyone else here?" Loen lowered his voice, implying something.
The bartender shook his head, with a very slight movement.
"Then, if I want to inquire about some information, who should I look for?"
"Old Man," the bartender said without even raising his head, "He is in the number three billiard room."
"He took over Kaspars's position."
"Old Man"? This nickname — — Loen's heart stirred, he nodded, picked up his glass, left the bar, and paced towards the familiar billiard room in his memory. He gently knocked on the door that was slightly ajar.
"Come in."
A slightly immature voice, but one that had deliberately lowered its pitch, came from the room.
Very young indeed — — Loen raised his eyebrows and pushed open the door.
Standing by the billiard table was a boy who didn't look very old. He was wearing an old coat that was clearly too big for him, a brown bowler hat on his head, and most eye-catching were his bright red eyes like rubies.
And the two obviously fake mustaches on his cheeks.
Uh — — about fifteen or sixteen years old? Is he using fake mustaches to make himself look more mature? He is a bit taller than Xio, and there is a maturity about him that completely contradicts his age — — Loen's gaze swept quickly, completing his preliminary assessment of this "Old Man" instantly.
"Who are you?" The big boy named Ian was also observing Lorne, who had pushed the door open, at the same time.
"I heard you took over Kaspars's business, I'm here to buy information." Loen walked into the room, closed the door behind him, isolating the noise from the outside, his tone calm.
"That's right. I am 'Old Man.' What do you need?" Ian leaned his cue against the table, put his hands into his coat pockets, appearing quite experienced, trying to lead the rhythm of the conversation.
To be able to take over Kaspars's intelligence and some gray market transactions in the East Borough, this kid either has a not-so-simple background, or he really has some skills and guts.
Besides, those scarlet eyes, he has Vampire blood — — the other party's red eyes reminded Loen of that arrogant and unlucky Emlyn White. However, the spiritual reaction on the other party is very ordinary, and it is highly likely that he is not a Beyonder.
"You do business here, have those two agreed?" Loen didn't answer immediately but lowered his voice, asking in the tone of an insider.
Hearing this, Ian's expression changed slightly. His scarlet eyes stared at Loen vigilantly for a while, and finally, he nodded slowly.
"Yes. They know, and they agreed."
Not lying — — Loen nodded slightly, feeling a little relieved.
"Huu — —"
"I heard that recently in the East Borough, especially near the factory district, there has appeared a kind of — — 'medicine' with magical effects? It is said to be able to cure all diseases. Do you have any relevant information here?"
"1 pound." Ian pondered for a while and stated a number, "This is just a rumor that has appeared recently. I can tell you that there is indeed such a medicine, and the effect — — according to some people who have used it, it is a bit magical, but not as exaggerated as the rumors. If you want to buy it, I can help you contact the seller. But I don't guarantee the price and safety."
Very experienced rhetoric. First throw out the bait, then lower expectations, and finally provide extended services while clearing oneself of responsibility — — Loen praised silently in his heart, this kid was more of an old fox than he had imagined.
He didn't waste words, directly took out a 1-pound note from his wallet, and handed it over.
"You tell me everything you know first."
Ian took the banknote, glanced at it briefly, and stuffed it directly into his pocket.
Subsequently, he recounted the information he had collected about the "Panacea" in detail.
"That kind of medicine is packed in small opaque glass bottles, the liquid is pale green, and the taste — — is said to be very strange.
It first appeared in two workers' settlements in the East Borough, and was privately circulated by some workers who felt better after drinking it when they were sick.
For common colds, fevers, and physical exhaustion, it does have a relatively quick alleviating effect, and some minor wound infections also heal faster after application.
Some gangs have also set their sights on these medicines — — in addition, there are two or three small gangs in the Docklands area inquiring about it, but currently, they haven't found the real source, and the amount of medicine circulating in the market doesn't seem to be much, appearing from time to time."
It's about what I expected, Loen listened silently.
As he had expected, gangs had indeed stepped in, starting to try to control the circulation of this medicine.
"Are there any officials investigating this matter?" Loen asked.
"No. At least I haven't heard any wind of it here yet. For this kind of folk 'remedy' style small commotion, as long as it doesn't cause deaths or large-scale riots, they won't manage it for the time being." Ian replied.
That's good, things haven't reached the point of no return yet — — Loen breathed a sigh of relief in his heart.
"By the way, do you sell weapons here?" He remembered that Kaspars had similar businesses before, and since this big boy in front of him had taken over the other party's business, he should have inherited this business as well.
"I sell them. What do you need?" Ian's answer was very straightforward.
"Revolvers? Shotguns? Or — — something more special?"
"Still information — — I heard that the arms market in Backlund has been very chaotic recently." He wanted to see if he could get information about the arms smuggler from the other party.
"Uh, sir, I feel you are very strange." Hearing this, Ian's tone became serious. Arms trafficking was one of his most profitable businesses, which made him have to be cautious.
"You are completely different from ordinary guests — —"
"How so?" Loen raised his eyebrows.
"First, you asked about 'those two' directly, which shows that you know the water in this bar is deep, and you are not an ordinary thug looking for fun or to get drunk. Secondly, your interest in the green potion doesn't look like it's because a family member is sick and needs it urgently — —"
"You are not an ordinary bounty Hunter or gang member, and you don't look like a Detective — — what is your purpose?"
"Hmph — —" Loen was about to speak, but looking at this vigilant, precocious Ian in front of him, he suddenly changed his mind.
This kid has a clear head, and with Sharron and the others indirectly endorsing him, his background is relatively clean. More importantly, as an intelligence peddler, his interpersonal network and information channels must be very broad — — maybe, he can have other uses.
Thinking of this, he changed his wording, and a mysterious smile appeared on his face: "Actually, I came to talk to you about cooperation."
"Cooperation?"
"Yes." Loen nodded, walked to the billiard table, picked up a ball and weighed it in his hand, "Weapons have always been a highly profitable industry. Although the price of weapons has dropped a lot recently due to the financial crisis, the entire industry has become quite chaotic because of this. All kinds of shoddy goods are flooding the market.
You took over Kaspars's business, and if you want to do it for a long time, I think you must also hope to have a stable and reliable supplier, right?"
"I can provide you with a stable source of goods, and at the same time, I can help you handle some troubles related to the police."
Hearing this, Ian rested his chin on his hand and fell into deep thought.
"You are right, a stable supplier is indeed what I need now. But — —"
"Why should I trust you? We have only met for the first time today, right?"
"Because, I appreciate you." Loen said the truth, "As for why you should trust me — — I think the one behind you should be able to vouch for me."
"Behind me?" Ian was stunned for a moment, then suddenly turned his head.
I saw that in the dim corner of the billiard room, a figure wearing a black Gothic court dress and a black soft hat emerged slowly and silently from the shadows.