Steam Old Days: The Extraordinary Begins with a Corpse Collector

When Cyril was released by the police, Walter was the first to run up to him.

In fact, the police department did nothing to Cyril; they just called him in to find out what was going on.

Even her hair was perfectly styled.

But as soon as he came out of the police station, Cyril looked lost and dejected, as if he had something on his mind. When he walked down the steep steps of the police station, he almost missed a step.

Fortunately, Walter reacted quickly and caught him in time.

"Boss, what's wrong?"

Cyril's voice sounded as if it were being squeezed out of his lungs.

Noticing the strange looks he was getting, he pointed to the carriage parked by the roadside.

"The carriage, let's go back first..."

Walter quickly helped Cyril into the car, closed the door, drew the curtains, and told the coachman to hurry back to the bar.

On the way, Walter carefully wiped the sweat from Cyril's face with a towel.

"Boss, have some water."

Walter told Cyril to hold the towel, while he turned around, picked up the water bag, opened the lid, and put it into Cyril's mouth.

Cyril closed his eyes and swallowed a mouthful of cold water.

Cyril let out a long breath as the cold water went down his throat.

He spread out a towel and covered his face directly, trying to separate himself from the world.

"Cyril, what's wrong with you? I've followed you for so many years, and I've never seen you like this before!"

Inside the carriage, Walter began calling his boss by his first name.

Cyril didn't take Walter's offense to heart.

Cyril, his face covered with a towel, said in a muffled voice, "Arthur is dead."

Upon hearing the news, Walter's face showed no sadness, but rather was filled with joy.

He said nonchalantly, "That lecherous wretch is dead, so what? There's nothing to be sad about."

Cyril shook his head, muttering things like, "Arthur is dead, Arthur is dead, I'm doomed."

Seeing Cyril's dejected appearance, Walter was furious.

He couldn't help but retort, "How could we let such a piece of trash, someone who wouldn't even glance at if stripped naked and left on the street, be finished? Cyril, I know you want to turn Black Sails members against them from within, but you should at least find a decent person! Why are just any kind of person coming to the shop..."

"What do you know!"

Cyril suddenly ripped the towel off his face.

"Just two more days! In two days, Arthur will hand over the remaining half of the ledgers to me, and then I'll have control of the Black Sail Society's financial lifeline! I can rise to the top in one fell swoop!"

Cyril was in a frenzy. He raised his hands, roared to the sky, and vented his resentment to the fullest.

Gradually, his voice softened, and the resentment on his face receded like the tide, leaving only two lines of clear tears streaming down his face.

Cyril covered his face and sat in the carriage, sobbing softly.

With Arthur dead, he would lose access to the remaining ledgers, and the half hidden in the bar became a hot potato.

If the truth comes out in the future and the Black Sail Society questions him, Cyril will become the target of everyone's criticism.

Now, if Cyril were to unleash the ledger in his hands, it would not only fail to deliver a heavy blow to the Black Sail Society, but would instead thoroughly enrage this fallen tiger.

"I'm finished...I'm finished..." Cyril lamented.

Upon learning of Arthur's importance, Walter turned pale with fright, his eyes darting around, and his hands gripping his thighs tightly.

"I...I don't know..."

Walter spoke these words very quietly.

Even though Cyril was sitting right next to him, he didn't hear him.

Cyril didn't even notice Walter's unusual expression because he was covering his face.

The two returned to the bar in a horse-drawn carriage.

Upon entering the bar, Cyril, in a daze, accidentally kicked a chair, and his emotions instantly collapsed.

Cyril grabbed the chair and, like a savage, began smashing up the shop he had run for many years.

Walter was so frightened by Cyril's madness that he took several steps back until he reached the wall.

Old Bob, equally startled, sidled up to Walter and asked him what was wrong with his boss.

Walter could only tell him that Arthur was dead.

But old Bob was unaware of the deal between Arthur and Cyril, and of course he was also unaware of Arthur's importance to Cyril.

He knew that Arthur and his boss had a good relationship with Violet.

As for why Cyril was so angry, old Bob couldn't figure it out.

So old Bob muttered to himself, "It's a shame Arthur died; he spent a lot of money coming here. But why is the boss so angry?"

"Um?"

Cyril, who had just been smashing up the bar and venting his emotions, seemed to have heard old Bob's mutterings. He put one hand on the table and hunched over.

He turned his head sharply, his bloodshot eyes fixed on old Bob, his gaze seeming murderous.

Old Bob was frightened by that glare, and he quickly lowered his head, not daring to look Cyril in the eye again.

The air in the bar seemed to freeze for a moment.

The oppressive atmosphere made it hard for the people in the store to breathe.

"What did you just say?"

Suddenly, Cyril's voice floated down from in front of old Bob.

Old Bob saw a pair of brown patent leather shoes in front of him, and he lowered his head even further.

Upon hearing the news from Cyril, old Bob was so frightened that he couldn't utter a complete sentence.

He just stammered, "It's nothing."

Cyril reached out, his calloused hand gently lifting old Bob's head, forcing him to look into his eyes.

"Old Bob, how many years have you been with me?"

Cyril asked, his hand already gripping old Bob's neck.

Feeling the pressure on his neck, old Bob's body trembled violently.

"Six, six years."

"Six years..." Cyril repeated, his grip tightening even more than before.

Old Bob was having trouble breathing.

He frantically slapped Cyril's hand, trying to get Cyril to let go.

"Six years have passed, and you still haven't learned to keep your mouth shut in front of the boss!"

Cyril roared and slammed old Bob against the wall.

boom!

A muffled thud.

Old Bob, with his old bones, felt like he had died once.

He coughed up a mouthful of blood and felt his vision blur.

Cyril glanced casually at old Bob lying on the ground, his gaze now turning incredibly sinister.

He glanced around the messy front hall. The vandalism he had just witnessed made Cyril realize something.

Arthur died on the very night he was about to hand over the ledger to Cyril.

This can't be an accident, it can't be!

There must be a traitor among us!

Someone must have betrayed him!

"It's you!"

Cyril suddenly pointed to Walter beside him.

Walter was startled, his fists clenched tightly, his nails digging into his flesh.

The next moment, Cyril pointed to old Bob lying on the ground.

"It's you!"

"It's you!"

"It's you guys!"

Cyril then pointed to Tommy, then to Wade, and then to his men standing in the front hall and even outside the store.

He screamed almost maniacally, "It was you! Some of you betrayed me! Betrayed the Brotherhood! Betrayed your own conscience!"

"That's right! That's right! That's exactly it!"

Cyril's throat bobbed, and suddenly he burst into unrestrained laughter.

His madness made everyone present gasp in shock.

Cyril laughed and laughed, then collapsed onto the ground.

He hugged his knees, staring blankly at a piece of broken glass on the ground.

"Where is Violet?"

"She was punished by you, boss, last night, and she's probably at home recovering from her injuries now."

"Bring her back, bring everyone back, the business still needs to be run, it still needs to be run..."

Cyril muttered to himself, his eyes now incredibly dark.