Chapter 668: For the Blood Bottle Gang, Part One

This was a shabby warehouse on Dock Number Seven in Jade City's canal district.

At the center of the warehouse, many local "bosses" with some face and reputation took seats one after another around a large round table. Their appearances differed, and their clothing varied. Some had fierce faces full of rough flesh, some wore glasses and looked refined, some were richly dressed and full of wealth, and some wore old, shabby clothes without the slightest care for grooming.

"Abu, I heard you made a profit from those grain flippers?"

"Profit my ass! Those stingy bastards who flip grain hire us for nothing but conscienceless work. Last week we dressed as the baron's men to frighten farmers, this week we dressed as rioting farmers to smash up manors. Low and vile as hell..."

"Hey, don't let Montero hear that. He's sworn brothers with those grain flippers..."

The "bosses" seated there clearly knew one another. Good Man Tommy leaned toward Taremi beside him and whispered about business. "Barber" Balta joked with his own men and laughed loudly from time to time. Gamandia, who ran gambling dens, glared fiercely at all the bosses present. "Stage Manager" Franco and "Newspaper Seller" Zeka exchanged jabs.

"Hey, Zeka, you're actually still alive? I thought the water ghoul swallowed you long ago."

"That's right. How about this? To celebrate me not being dead yet, I'll take you out to play on the high seas one day, you play-seller."

"How boring is it on the high seas? Tsk, tsk. What about under the high seas?"

"Aiya, both of you put your claws away. Dogs with no teeth should bark less..."

As the host, Duro sat among them and smiled along, trying to join the conversation. But the bosses were cold toward him. After greeting him, they ignored him, making Duro extremely awkward.

Each boss had brought one to three assistants or followers. Some leaned against the warehouse walls, while some sat on leftover shelves. But compared with the relaxed calm of the bosses, these people kept distance from one another, their eyes wary and their expressions hostile.

"No. They are very nervous."

Behind Duro's seat, Glover leaned against the wall and observed the surroundings, sensing something wrong.

He noticed that everyone in the warehouse, intentionally or otherwise, was watching a man in a dark red coat at the round table, a man currently grinning.

The other bosses sat close together, but only he had no one near him. Both his left and right sides were empty.

"That is because this is the first time seeing so many bosses present. I'm nervous to death too..." Qimikas looked excited as he directed underlings back and forth to serve tea and water, though most of them were roughly and rudely rejected by the guests.

"But they are not you. They should not be nervous." Glover tightened the bandages on his arm.

Qimikas froze, then said angrily:

"Hey, you newcomer. Where are your manners? Is that how you speak to a senior?"

In this atmosphere, behind Glover and Qimikas, Midira Ralf sat leaning in the corner, his head lowered deeply.

This was the Blood Bottle Gang.

Amid the noise, he silently told himself.

He had returned.

In the end, he had still returned.

"Oh damn, the Barber came too. I've never gotten along with that guy..."

"Same here. The Black Silks detained my men. I wanted to ask him for some information, but he actually said he had none. Fuck, is he playing me?"

"It's clearly the Emerald Celebration. This should be the time for us to earn money lying down, but instead... fuck, what rotten luck."

"Since business on your side is still good, when will you take care of the brothers a little?"

"I went to find the Green Skins, but those fat-headed bastards didn't want to care about anything. And I still paid my share according to the rules. When it matters, they are useless. Bastards who take money and do no work..."

Ralf breathed in a daze, listening to the bosses discuss topic after topic that felt familiar, some smiling playfully, some fierce as evil spirits.

He knew what this place was like.

And he knew what sort of things these people were.

Dark, cruel, hypocritical, low, shameless, outside order, unable to see the light...

"Wow, Ralf, now you're one of the Blood Bottle Gang. You're different!"

"Hey, when that boss heard you followed Big Sister, Ralf, he immediately pissed himself in fear!"

"Serves him right. Who told him to treat us so badly before? Hmph, from now on, we'll go to his shop every day and make trouble!"

Familiar yet illusory voices sounded beside his ears, and Ralf trembled hard.

What was going on?

The Ghost of the Wind subconsciously raised his head, but the people in the warehouse were all local Blood Bottle Gang members from Jade City.

No one was calling him.

No one knew him.

No one cared about him.

No one.

Ralf realized this, and in an instant felt both lost and sorrowful.

After all, he was no longer here.

And yet...

"Ralf, I heard there's a big show on Red Lane Street tonight. How about it? Are we doing it?"

Red Lane Street?

In that instant, Ralf felt his heartbeat miss a beat.

"Ghost of the Wind, your task is simple: harass, divert, harass again, divert again, and completely split them apart on Red Lane Street..."

Ghost of the Wind.

Ralf's hand gripping his prosthetic trembled slightly.

"Yo, Ralf, how come you brought so few people? What, Big Sister Catherine got scared?"

"Ralf, I heard some big figure in the gang has taken a liking to you? So is our gang's backer a rich woman or a big landlord? It can't really be a mystic, right? The kind that can do magic tricks?"

Amid the chaos, for one moment Ralf could not distinguish past from present. The familiar surrounding noise mixed with the past in his impression, hard to separate, as if he were sometimes this silent and cold mute Ralf, and sometimes again the proud and frivolous Ghost of the Wind in the Blood Bottle Gang.

"The two Black Silks at the height of their momentum are called 'Steel Awl' and 'Silent Killer.' So arrogant, tsk, tsk. Ghost of the Wind, what do you say?"

"Hahahaha, did you see Spin and Dorno's faces? They were assigned to stand watch! Stand watch! Haha!"

"Really, I heard it while keeping lookout! Big Sister Catherine said that once you have enough seniority, Ralf, she'll give the southern outskirts to you! You have to cover the brothers a little!"

"Ralf, you're this young and this strong. When will you become number one in the Blood Bottle Gang?"

Smack!

Ralf raised his head in shock and discovered that Glover had patted him.

"Are you all right?" Zombie frowned. He looked at Qimikas in front of them and very unnaturally added, "Uh, Teto, little brother?"

Was he all right?

Ralf nodded, released the illusory echoes by his ears, and returned to reality.

Of course.

Of course he was all right.

Until the next voice broke the atmosphere inside the warehouse.

"Blah-blah-blah, blah-blah-blah," a sinister and cold voice sounded from one end of the round table. "In Jade City, does even holding a meeting have to drag on this long? Are you waiting for candy?"

The instant he heard this voice, Ralf unconsciously tightened his breathing.

No.

No.

The warehouse quieted. Every gaze turned toward the speaker. It was the man in the dark red coat, sitting alone and lazily at one end of the round table, his expression full of malice.

Several bosses exchanged glances. One made a gesture, and the subordinates behind him understood. They rolled up their sleeves, stepped forward, and shouted:

"Hey, outsider. What did you say?"

The man in the dark red coat only smiled without speaking, but the several obviously ruthless subordinates behind him stepped forward without fear and confronted these people.

"Fuck. Worthy of being from the capital," Qimikas, squeezed into the corner, rubbed his hands and whispered. "You can tell at a glance they're good at fighting!"

Glover snorted inwardly.

Just as the dispute between the two sides was about to escalate from argument to shoving, "Wanderer" Fogg, who had remained silent by the round table, finally spoke.

"Quiet."

The meeting immediately quieted. Fogg calmly took out a pipe, and the follower behind him leaned forward to light it for him.

"Since everyone, hmm, I mean most people, are here, let us begin."

Duro waved his hand, and Qimikas hurriedly drove out the underlings who had been serving tea and water, most of them recruited by him in a hurry these past few days. But when he was about to drive Ralf away, Glover pressed a hand onto his shoulder, making Qimikas grimace in pain and give up.

Fogg took a puff from his pipe and calmly looked at the guest in the red coat opposite him.

"First, let us welcome our guest. Correct, you all have seen him: Mr. Blah-blah-blah from the capital."

Clap, clap, clap.

Fogg took the lead in applauding.

But aside from him, no one in the warehouse clapped. Instead, scattered laughter sounded.

The man in the red coat chuckled, while his followers looked unfriendly.

"It is all right. I rarely come to Jade City, so some of you have not seen me. But that does not matter," the man said. "I came from the capital. My name is Nekra. Of course, some people call me 'Red Viper.' Ha. 'Some people.'"

Nekra.

Red Viper.

A considerable commotion passed through the warehouse.

By the wall, Ralf felt himself trembling slightly.

He tried his utmost to control his emotions and not let them affect the flow of air around him.

"So the legend is true?"

At the round table, the lean and cold Gutierrez, who managed the underground boxing business, pressed the joints on his fists and spoke coldly.

"Boss Nekra, I heard you escaped the Black Sword's pursuit, and that is why he gave you this nickname? Red Viper?"

Red Viper shrugged.

"Hah. It was not that mysterious," Nekra said. "More than ten years ago, on the night Black Sword killed Boss Lausanne and Boss Turnbull, I survived by luck."

As soon as these words came out, the Blood Bottle Gang members in the warehouse began whispering.

Nekra smiled.

"As for whether this nickname came from him, hmm, I have never had the chance to ask him."

"Believe me, you will have the chance," Boss Fogg said lightly. "Little Red."

Laughter sounded through the warehouse, while Nekra's smile slowly stiffened.

"Looks like he and Fogg do not get along?" Glover whispered.

"How could that be?" Qimikas said stubbornly. "The Blood Bottle Gang is united as one..."

But the bosses did not seem to think so.

"Forgive my poor information, Boss Fogg," Barber Balta said from the round table. He looked honest and plain, as if he had just come from a barber shop. There was even a work apron stuffed into his pocket, one strap hanging outside. "Before we came, we did not hear that colleagues from the capital were coming to 'guide our work.'"

"What a coincidence. I did not hear either," Good Man Tommy said with a smile.

"At least not a week ago," Gamandia, who ran the gambling dens, coldly added.

Fogg snorted softly.

"Yes. When he appeared at my door," Fogg shook his head, "I was also very surprised."

The bosses all turned their gazes toward Red Viper.

"Yo, don't be so distant," Nekra laughed loudly. "I heard you had temporarily run into difficulties, so I hurried over to help!"

Run into difficulties.

Glover made a note of it in his heart.

"Heard? Heard from whom?"

Fogg exhaled smoke and swept his gaze over the bosses around the round table.

"Hmm, which little bastard eating inside while helping outside called you here, Little Red?"

Wanderer's tone was very ordinary, but every boss at the round table shifted their eyes away.

"Rather than wasting time on me, Old Fogg, why not take care of proper business?" Nekra shook his head. "You did not hold this meeting for me, did you?"

Fogg stared at Nekra for a long time before snorting coldly and looking toward the bosses in the meeting.

The bosses exchanged glances.

"I found them."

Dung Egg Roger spoke first.

"The three thugs under me who went missing were found yesterday. In the river." He gritted his teeth. "When they were found, they were all swollen."

"Stage Manager" Franco frowned.

"No clues left?"

"What more clues do we need?" Roger clenched his fist. "Those sons of bitches, the Black Silks, they clearly want war..."

"Roger!" Fogg sternly interrupted him.

Roger shrugged and leaned back into his chair angrily.

Glover frowned.

"Anything else?" Fogg looked around the round table.

"My people. Last week when they were sweeping the streets, three more disappeared after work."

Taremi, who occupied Glory District and was responsible for market business, sighed.

"One of them was my wife's younger brother. That brat was very good at fighting, strong as a horse, and then he vanished just like that. My wife has nearly cried my ears deaf, and the brothers are very angry too."

"In my gambling house, two bodyguards who watched the place also died," Gamandia, who ran the gambling dens, said coldly. "One died in his own bathtub and dyed all the water red. The other has not been found even now. There are also many gamblers who never showed up again after the celebration began."

Fogg said nothing and allowed the pipe in his hand to burn. Nekra folded his arms and watched everything like a good show.

Behind them, Glover quietly asked Qimikas:

"So you are being attacked?"

But Qimikas was just as confused.

"It could not be more obvious. The Black Silks are too arrogant." At the round table, Roger slammed the table and said fiercely, "And we are under attack!"

"Hey, hey, hey, do not jump that fast!"

"Newspaper Seller" Zeka frowned and interrupted him.

"The Emerald Celebration always has a mixed flow of people. Every year, some people die. Most are people taking the chance to settle grudges or drunken trouble..."

"Or the water ghoul did it?" Good Man Tommy beside him chuckled.

Roger's eyes burned with anger.

"There is me too. My dog kennel was broken into at midnight. Three guards died, throats cut and bodies hung upside down..."

At the other side, Sangare, who lived off the livestock business and dressed like a farmer, had red eyes.

"But they did not even spare the dogs... Ahhh, damn it! Those were my best dogs! Hunting dogs, fighting dogs, pet dogs, ornamental dogs, meat dogs, and breeding dogs! My life's work! What sort of people are this cruel, not even sparing dogs? Those sons of bitches, the Black Silks!"

Sangare roared in anger and slammed the table.

"Sangare, calm down," Fogg sighed.

"I had a very promising boxer," Gutierrez, who managed the underground boxing business, said from the round table in a muffled voice. "He was still fighting the night before yesterday, but yesterday he skipped work and did not come. We searched for a whole day... This is the fourth boxer I have lost in two weeks, not counting those who shouted in the streets selling tickets and then disappeared."

Bad Cobbler Jaga was dressed very richly. He wiped the dust on the round table in disgust before leaning on it.

"That boxer. Could it be you worked him too hard and deducted too much, forcing him to run away from home?"

Gutierrez glared at him.

"His wife and children are still at home."

Jaga clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"Tsk. Then you were so harsh that they would rather abandon their wives and children and run?"

"We ultimately found the first three boxers' corpses in the river."

"Wow. You really are that harsh? The boxers despaired enough to run away and jump into the river?"

"Their throats were cut!"

"Cut their own necks before jumping into the river? Sunset above, Gutierrez, how terrible must you be as a boss..."

Gutierrez could bear it no more and stood in anger.

"Hey!"

But before he could erupt, Fogg slapped the table.

"Jaga!"

"Show some respect. Have some empathy. What if it were your people who had trouble?" Fogg said in a low voice.

Jaga glanced at Fogg and resentfully shrank back into his seat.

Gutierrez also snorted angrily and sat down.

"Empathy?"

Roger snorted coldly.

"Lord Jaga has made it now. He is a man of a big chamber of commerce. His leather business is booming, and he has face and reputation. He calls security officers brothers, repairs bridges and roads from time to time, and I heard he even went to Emerald Palace for a banquet a few days ago. Tsk, tsk. How could he still remember the hard days of sweeping streets with us? How could he possibly 'empathize' with lowly scoundrels like us who make shady money?"

"No need for you to worry," Jaga snorted angrily. "I built my fortune from the Blood Bottle Gang. I am a Blood Bottle Gang man. I will never forget that."

At that moment, Nekra's voice sounded faintly.

"Aiya, I originally thought the brothers in Jade City were living quite comfortably." Red Viper toyed with a dagger, his burning gaze shooting straight at Fogg. "But from the sound of it, your situation is terrible. The Brotherhood has beaten you until you are running around with your heads covered, Fogg?"

"We are the Blood Bottle Gang. We cannot be this cowardly, right?"

Hearing that familiar voice again, Ralf felt the blood in his body freeze solid.

Why are you still alive?

That sinister voice sounded beside his ears again, and Ralf felt his whole body tighten and turn cold.

Why was it you who survived? Why not Kex, Song, Spin, or Dorno?

That voice continued.

Why was it you, why was it Catherine's person who survived, and not mine?

No.

Ralf took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the present.

No. This was a memory.

Only a memory.

Merely a memory.

But how can a Ghost of the Wind who cannot speak, has no legs, and is severely wounded and dying serve her?

Those memories that had haunted him for seven years and had never once let him go.

So, you might as well have died in battle and gone missing!

Ralf closed his eyes.

Although the prosthetics made for him by Mindis Hall were exquisitely crafted, sturdy, and durable, he still spent an entire year adapting to them, exhausting all his strength before barely reaching the level of an ordinary person.

In seven years, countless times when he woke from bed, he felt that his legs were still there.

Countless times, he habitually rose from bed wanting to step onto the floor, only to fall hard and solid.

Countless more times, he dreamed that his legs were cut off again and again, burned again and again, while he could only roar in vain amid that unforgettable sinister laughter.

Once, he thought he had slowly gone numb and gradually forgotten.

Until now.

Now that heart-tearing pain returned to his legs.

"This is an Jade City meeting, Little Red," Fogg glared at Nekra. "We do not need your professional advice."

Red Viper smiled and shook his dagger.

"But Boss Nekra is right. People are gone, and that is that. The news cannot be sealed for long," Gamandia said in a low voice. "The docks have already started spreading stories about the water ghoul. We, we must do something, anything."

A wave of agreement sounded in the warehouse.

"Fuck them!"

Roger raised his arm and roared angrily.

"Perfect. Today is the Noble Lords' Procession, so the security officers and Jade Legion are too busy to win! We take our men to North Gate Bridge, fuck those drug sellers to death, search heaven and earth, force out the 'Head Wolf,' put a knife against his asshole, and make him pay the price!"

The entire warehouse stirred. Some people echoed, some shouted.

"Start the war!"

"Revenge!"

"Show the Black Silks some color!"

"Prove our attitude!"

"Blood debts must be paid in blood!"