Steam Old Days: The Extraordinary Begins with a Corpse Collector

The night in the foggy city is quiet.

Old Bob, carrying his bag and dragging his thin, frail body, hurried along the deserted street.

He was going to stay with one of his old friends, spending the day at his friend's house before boarding a cargo ship early the next morning to leave the foggy city by water.

There was another reason why old Bob chose to leave the foggy city by water.

More than half of the docks in the old city of Chongqing were monopolized by the Beigang Chamber of Commerce.

The Beigang Chamber of Commerce is something the Brotherhood would never dare to provoke.

Old Bob walked for a long time, then entered a building, came to a door, and knocked on it.

Boom!Boom!Boom!

Who is it?

An aged voice came from inside the door.

"It's me! Big brother, let me in!"

Old Bob lowered his voice and kept turning around as he waited, as if something terrifying was following him.

The door creaked open.

An elderly man with a wrinkled face and white hair peeked out from behind the door.

"Old Bob, what brings you here so late?"

"Oh dear! It's hard to explain in a short time, please let me in first!"

Old Bob said, carrying his bag, and went inside.

The interior was simply decorated, with only a few essential pieces of furniture and no other extra embellishments.

Even the wallpaper on the walls is a dirt-resistant brown.

"Brother, have some water. My throat is burning from running all this way."

Old Bob placed his bag at his feet and pleaded with the old man inside the house.

The old man poured old Bob a cup of tea.

Old Bob took the tea and drank it all in one gulp.

"call!"

After drinking the tea, old Bob exhaled a breath of stale air, finally feeling alive again.

At this moment, the old man sat down in the chair next to old Bob, his cloudy eyes scrutinizing old Bob's disheveled appearance.

He took out a pipe from his pocket, pressed down the tobacco in the pipe with his fingers, and then lit the tobacco by the candlelight.

The old man took a couple of puffs from his pipe.

Thick smoke filled the room.

"What exactly happened?"

The old man exhaled smoke from his mouth and asked.

Upon hearing this, old Bob slapped his thigh and began to complain.

"Brother, I escaped from the Old Sailor's Bar!"

The old man was filled with doubt after hearing this.

"Escape? I remember you've been serving that Cyril kid for at least seven or eight years, haven't you?"

"Six years," old Bob said with shame.

"Six years? How did you manage to escape? Did you do something wrong?" the old man asked.

Old Bob shook his head: "No, Cyril has gone mad! He's cleaning up everyone in the bar, from Kyle to his regular henchmen, killing them all!"

Although he had already escaped, old Bob still felt a chill when he thought about it.

"A bloodbath of his trusted confidants? How could Cyril do something so foolish?"

The old man was deeply shocked by this.

He had met Cyril before, when Cyril had just started conquering territory.

He was humble yet measured in his conduct, and firm yet unyielding.

The old man even believed that if Cyril could maintain this state, the old town would very likely become his Cyril's old town in the future.

"I don't know! I don't know!" Old Bob exclaimed, slapping his thigh.

"From then on, Cyril joined the Brotherhood, and he became a local boss, like a completely different person! Before, when his men made mistakes, he would punish them minorly for serious offenses and let them go unpunished for minor ones; back then, everyone was grateful to him. But later, he would kill people at the drop of a hat, as if he couldn't establish his authority without killing. He treated us old guys much worse than before; one of his new henchmen even managed to climb over me! Old brother, tell me, how could we not have complaints!"

"So you ran away because of this?"

Old Bob shook his head in frustration, his eyes filled with sorrow.

"To be honest, after following Cyril for so many years, there are still feelings between us. I won't leave him because of that, but because of the death of a man named Arthur."

"Arthur?"

"Yes! Arthur. It seems his death ruined something Cyril was planning. It must be something serious; Cyril is furious. He suspects there's a traitor among us!"

"That's why he carried out a major cleanup," the old man added.

Old Bob nodded.

Having learned the whole story, the old man said nothing more and sat down in his chair to smoke his pipe.

Old Bob, on the other hand, drank cup after cup of tea.

The old man smoked for a long time before slowly asking, "So what do you plan to do? According to your description, Cyril knows you ran away and won't let you go."

Old Bob put down his teacup and said without hesitation, "I'm leaving the Fog City. I'll leave before dawn. I'll take a boat out of the Fog City, I just need to get out of here first."

"Alright. You can stay here with me tonight, and I'll try to find you a carriage tomorrow," the old man said.

He pointed to a room with his pipe.

"You can sleep in that room."

"Thank you, brother."

Old Bob was extremely grateful. He stood up, bent down, and hugged his friend.

Then, he picked up his bag and went into the room.

Perhaps he was too tired, because old Bob lay down on the bed without taking off his clothes.

His head rested on the slightly firm pillow, yet he felt incredibly comfortable.

The night is quiet.

I don't know if it was because he saw too many corpses today, or because he drank too much tea.

Anyway, old Bob, lying in bed, wasn't sleepy at all.

He stared at the ceiling with his eyes open, silently counting sheep in his mind, trying to fall asleep.

But it was of no use.

Old Bob sighed.

He rolled over, intending to lie on his side.

Suddenly, old Bob felt something sticking out of his throat.

He reached out and pulled out a flat metal box.

"What is this?"

Old Bob was puzzled. He opened the box and saw two red dots lit up on the screen, very close together.

Boom!

Just as old Bob was still trying to figure out the meaning of the red dot, a noise suddenly came from outside.

Upon hearing the sound, old Bob suddenly sat up in bed.

"Brother? Were you outside just now?"

He stared intently at the door, and after a long time, no more sounds came from outside.

This made old Bob feel uneasy.

He got out of bed and went to the door.

Old Bob carefully opened the door a crack and peered into the living room through it.

The living room was completely dark.

"Did I hear that right?"

Old Bob couldn't help but start to doubt himself.

Just as he was about to close the door, a hand suddenly pried it open.

Old Bob was taken aback. Before he could react, a puff of smoke was blown into his face.

Immediately, old Bob felt weak all over and dizzy.

He soon collapsed to the ground.

Before he completely lost consciousness, old Bob overheard a conversation between several people.

"Why is it an old man? Where's Lyndon?"

"Huh? Isn't that Bob, the dog that follows Cyril?"

"It really is him!"

"Alright, take him away first and question him properly."

……

Old Bob didn't know how long he had been unconscious; he only knew that when he woke up, he was tied to a chair.

The surrounding environment resembles an abandoned warehouse.

There was a lot of dust in the air, and old Bob couldn't help but sneeze several times.

There was a wooden table in front of him, and a candle on the table.

The flickering firelight cast a long, long shadow of old Bob.

Outside the warehouse, Rodney peered through the crack in the door at old Bob inside.

"This guy is quite calm, neither crying nor making a fuss," Moran commented.

"They've been in this gang for years, they've seen their share of the world." Rodney turned to Moran and asked, "I sent Mary to find Lyndon, haven't they arrived yet?"

Moran glanced at the time: "It should be soon."

As they were talking, Mary appeared near the warehouse, followed by Lyndon.

Lyndon had already taken off his waiter's uniform and changed into his own clothes.

"Brother, I have to go to work tomorrow. What do you want to do so late at night?"

Lyndon yawned widely and looked at Rodney with a resentful expression.

Rodney gestured with his chin, indicating that Lyndon should look inside the warehouse.

Lyndon walked to Rodney's spot, bent down, and peered through the crack in the door.

Old Bob was found tied up in the center of the warehouse.

"Oh, just for this."

Lyndon said with a displeased look.

"Shouldn't you explain why the communicator I gave you ended up on him?"

Rodney asked.

"Of course I put it there! Who else would I be?" Lyndon said casually. "I'm doing this for your own good. Old Bob has been with Cyril for a long time, so you're sure to get a lot of information out of him. Consider this a perk I'm giving you."

Rodney paused for a moment.

He then pointed to the warehouse entrance and replied in Lyndon's style, "Then go ask him. After all, we were able to catch him thanks to you."

Lyndon glanced at Rodney, his eyes serious.

His lips twitched a few times.

"I'll go, I'll go..."

Lyndon pushed open the warehouse door and went inside.

The moment old Bob, who was tied to the chair, saw Lyndon, he immediately showed a knowing expression.

"So it was you."

Old Bob didn't seem particularly excited; on the contrary, he remained quite calm.

"It was me, but I didn't kidnap you." Lyndon sat casually on the table and then picked up a candle from it.

"Did you kill Arthur?"

"It was an accident. I didn't know his death would cause such a big fuss. I just wanted to get some money back."

Lyndon rubbed his eyes and smiled at old Bob.

"By the way, you haven't answered my question yet."

"What's the problem?"

Old Bob asked with a puzzled look.

"I'm the one who asked you in the alley, Mr. Bob, where are you going with your luggage in the middle of the night instead of sleeping?"

Old Bob snorted coldly and stubbornly replied, "Hmph! You won't find out!"

When Lyndon questioned him, old Bob acted quite firmly.

Lyndon seemed to have anticipated this as well.

He walked slowly to old Bob and then grabbed old Bob's hair.

"What do you want to do?"

Looking at the candle in Lyndon's hand, old Bob's heart skipped a beat for no apparent reason.

Suddenly, Lyndon grabbed old Bob's hair and forced him to tilt his head back.

Then, Lyndon brought the candle close to old Bob's eyes.

Then Linden said leisurely, "The ignition point of tallow candles is usually 300 degrees Celsius, and the average temperature of hot wax is 80 degrees Celsius. If such wax drips into your eyes, it will instantly burn your cornea. In a short while, the wax will solidify and adhere to your eyes, causing blisters on your eyelids. The feeling is both painful and itchy! There is no other way but to gouge your eyes out."

Old Bob looked at the dangling wax and closed his eyes.

But Lyndon pried open old Bob's eyelids with his hands, forcing him to open his eyes.

Tick ​​tock!

Lyndon's hand trembled, and a drop of wax fell onto old Bob's face.

The burning pain brought tears to old Bob's eyes.

"Oops! My hands were shaking!" Lyndon said, feigning regret. "It's okay, I promise I won't shake them anymore."

"No..." Old Bob cried, trying to break free of Lyndon's hand.

But Lyndon's hands were like a pair of iron clamps, pressing down hard on old Bob's face, preventing him from turning his head away.

"don't want!"

"Don't want to?" Lyndon scoffed. "But you're unwilling to tell me your secrets, so I have no choice!"

Just as another drop of wax was about to drip into his eye, old Bob yelled at the top of his lungs, "I! I'll talk!"

That shrill voice echoed in the empty room.

Lyndon abruptly withdrew his hand, his face serious, and asked, "You'll tell me? Well, then I'll make you tell me everything you know!"

"Okay! I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!" Old Bob gasped for breath, and a foul stench was already emanating from beneath him.

The three people outside the warehouse witnessed everything Lyndon did.

This made everyone gasp in surprise.

"Hiss! Lyndon's got some serious interrogation skills! Using wax to drip into people's eyes, that's some serious stuff!" Moran couldn't help but say, subconsciously touching his own eyes, which seemed to be hurting.

Mary chimed in, "Yeah, I can't believe how this guy came up with this idea. He must be a devil."

Rodney remained silent, peering through the crack in the door and quietly watching what was happening inside.

Under Lyndon's persistent questioning, old Bob revealed all the reasons why he had run away and what had recently happened in the bar.

Originally, old Bob wanted to use his cleverness to gloss over some things.

But Lyndon simply took off his clothes. A few drops of scalding hot wax were applied, and old Bob said everything.

In the end, before Lyndon even asked, he blurted it out to avoid being tortured.

"So you mean you're not the only one in the bar who's unhappy with Cyril?"

"Yes!" Old Bob nodded rapidly.

"Where is Violet's ledger?" Lyndon asked in a deep voice.

"I really didn't know that! I know it exists! Violet won't let anyone know about this. If Cyril finds out, he'll definitely go on a killing spree!"

Old Bob spoke with heartfelt sincerity.

Lyndon knew he wasn't lying.

But what old Bob said next really piqued Lyndon's interest.

It turns out that as Cyril's ambitions continued to grow, he was also falsifying the Brotherhood's accounts, using the hidden money to win people over.

He even planned to leave the Brotherhood and start his own business if he became powerful enough in the future.

Lyndon remained silent for a long time after hearing this.

He put down the candlestick in his hand, turned around and walked out of the warehouse.

All that remained behind him was old Bob's shouts.

"Hey! I've finished talking! Can you let me go? Hey!"

He closed the door, leaned against it, and said to the three of them, "You all heard that."

The three nodded.

"What do you want to do next?" Lyndon asked.

"What do you want to do?" Rodney asked Lyndon.

A hint of disgust flashed in Lyndon's eyes.

He turned his head and demanded, "What do you mean? This is a gang fight. I'm just an ordinary person. You're asking for my opinion!"

Rodney, however, had a different opinion: "You've stirred up such a huge mess, and you still want to stay out of it?"

"But I only killed Arthur by mistake! Besides, he's in your hands, what chance does he have of surviving!" Lyndon said angrily.

"That's the crux of the matter! You killed Arthur! You're the one who created this huge mess! If the Brotherhood finds out, they won't blame the source of the trouble! They'll only blame the person who brought the trouble upon themselves! That is, you!"

Rodney's words were absolutely devastating.

Lyndon clenched his fists angrily and cursed inwardly.

After a long pause, Lyndon offered a solution.

"Then let's find a way to kill Cyril. After all, the dead are much less troublesome than the living. If he's alive, this mess will never be resolved."

Rodney and his two companions didn't really have any objections to the suggestion, since none of them expected things to escalate to this point.

"What are you planning to do?" Rodney looked at Moran and Mary, indicating that they would provide assistance.

"A counter-espionage plot, fishing in troubled waters, using someone else to do the dirty work."

After a moment's thought, Lyndon offered a solution.

He then explained the general plan to the three of them.

After hearing Lyndon's plan, the three of them agreed that it was a good idea.

"So the plan is decided. Now, what should he do?" Lyndon pointed to old Bob behind the door.

Rodney thought for a moment and then gave Moran a wink.

Moran understood immediately. He took out his belt, wrapped it around his hand a few times, and went into the warehouse.

Lyndon's eyelids twitched violently as he watched the door close again.