Old days, dice and investigator's manual

The seven or eight people in the warehouse were eyeing Isaac at the door, paying particular attention to the thing in his hand that looked like a water pipe.

Among these people, the one in the lead appeared to be a man sitting on a box. He stared at Isaac for a moment, then took the cigarette out of his mouth: "What are you doing?"

"Someone gave me this address and asked me to come over and meet them." Isaac didn't go inside, but just left the door slightly ajar behind him.

The man put the cigarette back in his mouth, stood up, and walked towards Isaac.

He was half a head shorter than Isaac, but he walked with an imposing presence. Isaac judged that this man was probably used to using his imposing gait to intimidate his opponents, and was likely a skilled street fighter.

The man stopped in front of Isaac, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his voice slightly muffled: "You're that pretty boy?"

"...Pretty boy?"

"Hmph, that's what he said anyway." The man held out his hand to Isaac. "Just give me the stuff."

"What is it?" Isaac asked, feigning ignorance.

The man narrowed his eyes: "Didn't you bring something with you? Don't play dumb with me. We'll handle the stuff, and your business is over. What are you dawdling about?"

Isaac deduced that this person was arranged to wait for him here, but he only knew that someone would come with a ring, and did not know his specific identity. No further details were given, but he was probably an "outsider" of the Ghoul Cult.

However, Isaac figured he should be playing the role of a traitor who had defected to the cult. The first reaction to such a role was definitely not to obediently hand over the goods, but to make sure he could get some kind of guarantee.

If the ring is given away without any agreement reached, the best option for the Ghoul Order, regardless of whether they have any suspicions, is to kick the person aside. Therefore, the next step is not to meet with the Order members, but to be sent away by them.

"I'm here to meet my contact," Isaac said. "I risked everything to steal this stuff. My contact told me to bring it here, but didn't say who it was for. I don't know you, and you don't know me. I can't afford to give it away for nothing or give it to the wrong person."

The man took the cigarette down: "Do you know where this is?"

"Warehouse No. 3, Luxiang Lane"

"That settles it then, just give it to me."

"I need to see someone who can truly take responsibility. If this thing is lost, I'll lose my life too."

"I can make that decision."

"Unless you can prove it."

The man seemed to find something amusing, turning to look at his companion: "This kid wants us to prove it! How? Do I have to give him a code word?"

"For example, you can tell me what this thing is and what it's used for," Isaac said.

The man frowned: "What does this have to do with me? I just told you to bring it over, do you think this is a vegetable market where you have to haggle?"

Isaac now realized that these people were probably not even peripheral staff, but rather outsourced workers. They might have just been paid by the Ghoul Cult and knew only that they were responsible for reselling an item, but nothing else.

Even if the FBI really lays an ambush and wipes them all out, these outsourced personnel won't be able to reveal much information.

However, is the Ghoul Order really so comfortable letting outsource the entire process of handing over the rings...? Isaac glanced at the others around him.

At this moment, a man sitting against the wall spoke up: "Boss, is this kid playing us?"

"I think so," another said. "Should we pin him down first? I think that thing is the stick in his hand!"

"Exactly! Do we have to prove it? What do they take us for!"

Boot-shaped top? Isaac paused, then subconsciously looked down.

...They really are all the same style of boots; you wouldn't notice this "identity mark" unless you were paying special attention.

Moreover, it seems that the pattern at the entrance of this warehouse is also a boot, but it's drawn rather abstractly. Isaac didn't recognize it at first, but now that he has a clue, he can finally make the connection to a boot.

The leader put the cigarette back in his mouth, his words squeezed out through clenched teeth: "Did you hear that? Our patience is limited. If you don't want to suffer, stop with the nonsense, hand over the stuff, and your business is over."

"After I hand it over, how do I contact the person I'm in touch with?"

"That's your business over there, it has nothing to do with us." The leader tilted his head. "I'm only responsible for receiving the goods, nothing else."

Isaac took a half step back: "Then I can only go back first, and wait for the person who can really take responsibility to contact me."

Seeing that Isaac was about to turn away, the man cursed and reached out to grab Isaac's shoulder: "What do you take this place for, where you can come and go as you please?"

The moment that hand approached, Isaac grabbed the man's wrist with his own.

The man was taken aback. He tried to pull back, but couldn't. His expression changed, and with a forceful jerk, he finally managed to break free.

He took a half step back, his face darkening.

Seeing this, several people nearby also stood up. One of them kicked away an empty wine bottle at his feet and shouted, "Dare to fight the boss? We'll beat him so badly his own mother won't recognize him!"

"I think this kid's asking for trouble, boss. What do you suggest we do?"

The man spat out his cigarette, rubbed his wrist that had been gripped, and said with a half-smile, "Since you don't know what's good for you, then it's up to you who's in charge. Don't blame me for not giving you a chance."

The group gathered around, and Isaac glanced at them but didn't grab any of the weapons at hand.

It seems they planned to rely on their numbers to subdue him with their bare hands and steal his things, without intending to escalate the situation by shedding blood.

The man clenched his fist, making a "click" sound, and then threw a punch.

A punch aimed at the nose is unlikely to kill, but if it does land, it can immediately cause pain and bleeding, and usually triggers an instinctive reaction to touch the nose. If it's followed by another punch, most ordinary people will be unable to defend themselves.

Isaac grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it to deflect the force.

The man tried to fight back, but Isaac's strength was unexpected. His arm was twisted and turned around, and he hissed.

"This guy's trained!" someone shouted.

"Don't let him get away, all of you attack!"

Without further hesitation, the group rushed in from different directions.

A man threw a punch, and Isaac blocked it with his cane. The man's fist slammed into the cane, and Isaac winced in pain.

Someone lunged at him from the other side, but Isaac dodged to the side, and the person missed and stumbled into a nearby box.

The leader, recovering his composure, swung his wrist and yelled, "Don't fight him one-on-one! All of us attack together and hold this kid down!"