The distance between the Eleventh District and the Third District was not as great as one might imagine. The layout of the districts in the City of Iniquity followed no set pattern, determined entirely by the chronological order in which the various big bosses had carved out their turf.
Naturally, the vast majority of the founding bosses were long gone, leaving behind only the districts they had established, preserved to this day.
"This is it. Pull over." They had arrived at the five-story building of the Three-Band Alliance's headquarters. Boss Dao, who had remained silent in the passenger seat the entire drive, spoke up to alert them.
Wen Jifei glanced at the building and pulled up to the curb.
"Once we get out, none of you three say a word, understand? No matter what I say or do, or what they say, don't lose your tempers."
Boss Dao gave this strict warning and turned to cast a glance behind the car.
A crowd had followed them on the drive over, whether out of concern for how things would unfold or merely to watch the spectacle. Cars pulled over one after another, coming to a halt dozens or hundreds of meters back.
Two long lines of vehicles quickly lined the street.
There were quite a few people; counting the onlookers who stopped on the scene, there were probably several hundred already, with more constantly converging from all directions.
"If I bow my head and beg in front of so many people, will you boys look down on me as your boss?" With his hand on the door handle, Boss Dao suddenly gave a bitter smile and asked.
Wen Jifei turned to look at him. "Of course not."
"Yeah." Boss Dao pushed the door open. "Get out... You insisted on coming, and here you are. If we all go down together in a minute, what's going to happen to those two girls?"
Just as Boss Dao's words fell, a heavy-duty garbage truck screeched to a halt right beside them.
The door swung open.
A dark-gold suit of iron armor, slinging two wooden cases across its back—one long, one short—was seated in the passenger seat... Looking completely mechanical, it turned its head toward them and asked Wen Jifei:
"Is this the place?!"
Due to the barrier of the iron armor, Rusty Sister's urgency and nervousness were detectable only to her own companions; outsiders could not tell in the slightest.
"Why did she come running over too?!" Boss Dao bristled with annoyance at first, but then he looked up and saw that his doctor had arrived as well.
Zhe Qiuhong had her hair tied back and wore a white lab coat, but it was obvious she had a device strapped to her back, with a blade at her waist.
Sitting in the driver's seat, she turned her head to look over as well, though she appeared relatively calm.
When word of this had reached the house, Rusty Sister—a young girl who already lacked strong deductive reasoning and worldly experience, and whose concern clouded her judgment—had panicked immediately.
Zhe Qiuhong was rational enough, but she hadn't been able to stop her. Furthermore, lacking sufficient information and unable to ascertain the actual situation, she had come along as well.
In this situation... Wen Jifei knew that with so much as a single nod from him, the iron armor would launch straight off the roof of the garbage truck.
He quickly braced himself, yanked open the door, and climbed into the garbage truck.
"What did you two come here for?!"
Upon boarding, he discovered Ao Yong and Qian Daofeng in the back seat as well. Even as he reached forward to clamp a hand onto Rusty Sister's shoulder, he threw the question at them.
The two brothers could not involve themselves in an occasion like this. Doing so meant actively entangling themselves in disputes, which would forfeit their protection under the rules forever.
"We... came to help," the two turned together, looking at Wen Jifei and speaking in meek voices.
Through this incident, Ao Yong and Qian Daofeng had now ruled out their earlier suspicion. A'Jing couldn't possibly be Major Qing—otherwise, how could he have been kidnapped?
Even so, when Rusty Sister and Zhe Qiuhong had driven out, they had still chosen to follow.
"Don't bother. If a real fight breaks out later, you'll probably just stab yourselves again," Wen Jifei said, pointing at the bandages and gauze covering their right chests.
Back then, Ao Yong and Qian Daofeng had struck each other simultaneously, hitting the exact same spot—the right side of the chest... Feigning a clash, they hadn't been able to brake in time, and with a squelch, the blades had plunged in.
If not for the coincidence that both were left-handed, it likely would have cost them their lives.
Qian Daofeng and Ao Yong: "..."
"Stay in the truck. Don't get out," Wen Jifei said.
"Stay in the truck! Don't come down!" Boss Dao stood beneath the truck door, his voice hushed but trembling with agitated urgency as he warned them.
"You little brat, acting like this... who are you putting on a show for?!" Boss Dao grumbled, scolding Iron Chick first before tilting his head inward. "Aiya, Doctor Zhe, why did you come running over too? If we all die together right here in a bit, who's going to operate on me later?"
"If we all die there together, Boss Dao, you won't be needing surgery anyway," He Tangtang piped up from behind him.
"...That's true, I suppose." Boss Dao nodded with a wry chuckle. "Still, you lot... in any case, none of you are allowed down. This has to be handled by me... If I can't handle it, get out of here as fast as you can, got it?"
...
Crowds packed both ends of the street, craning their necks to watch. Though their voices were kept low, when joined together, the murmuring was still a noisy din. Boss Dao blew out a heavy breath. Under these countless gazes, he straightened his back, stepped forward, crossed the street, and walked up to the five-story building.
His blade rested behind his shoulder; he did not draw it.
Wen Jifei and the other two did the same.
"How come there doesn't seem to be anyone around?"
"Yeah."
"It's so quiet."
"What do we do then? Do we just head up?"
The three whispered among themselves.
Boss Dao didn't hear them. The absence of anyone in sight was even worse than anticipated.
"Is Boss Shelvey of the Three-Band Alliance here?... Boss Soda, Boss Park... Dao Dali from the Third District wants to meet and talk."
Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted up at the upper floors, having spotted figures moving up high.
No answer.
There was no reaction whatsoever from upstairs.
Under the gaze of the crowd, Boss Dao shouted once more.
Yet the result was the same.
This spectacle puzzled not only Wen Jifei and his companions, but even the onlookers who had followed them.
"Isn't this giving Boss Dao way too little face?"
"What face does Dao Dali have? Strictly speaking, calling him Boss Dao is just a courtesy. He's really just an old drifter scraping by with a freelance band on the streets who got lucky a few times. In front of real bosses like these, he's not worth a fart."
"I heard his men were kidnapped. Looking at how few people he brought, he's probably planning to bow his head anyway."
"What else can he do? With the handful of men he's got..."
Amidst the chatter of the crowds on both ends of the street—clack!
High above on the fifth floor, a black glass window was pushed outward.
"Boss Dao, come on up." No one showed their face, but a voice called down.
"Whose voice is that?" an onlooker asked, looking up.
"Shelvey," someone beside him replied.
Then all eyes turned back to Boss Dao. "Does he dare go up?"
"All right," Boss Dao called back, taking a step forward.
Wen Jifei and the other two followed.
Boss Dao snapped, "Stay right there. Don't follow me."
"Boss!" Filio and his men emerged from a nearby car, calling out anxiously.
Boss Dao looked back, glared at them, and shook his head.
...
"Got some guts, huh."
"Yeah."
Amidst low murmurs, Boss Dao's back vanished into the ground-floor stairwell.
No one. Not a single soul. Boss Dao went up to the second floor—still no one. Then the third floor... By the time he reached the fourth floor, something suddenly dripped onto his shoulder.
Boss Dao turned his head to look. It was blood.
"Holy shit!"
Don't be dead! Images flashed through his mind: A'Jing and A'Xi were probably beaten beyond recognition by now...
Boss Dao raised his hand, gripped the hilt of his blade, then let go again, quickening his pace into a dash up the stairs.
He reached the fifth floor; still no one.
Rounding the corner from the stairhead, a set of double doors at least twice a man's height stood closed, blood trickling out from beneath them...
Boss Dao stared fixedly for a couple of seconds, gritted his teeth to hold back his rage... walked forward, and reached out to push open the doors.
Chapter 451