Chapter Thirty-Three: Bounty Notice
3 PM.
Just as the private time of the Pelican Lady was interrupted by the vibrations from the Mourning Gray Owl Badge, Vivienne Chapelier finally completed her work after a long and tiring day.
About two kilometers from the sea outlet of the Free City Canal, there stood a uniquely shaped warehouse, a square building topped with a very standard circular roof.
Its outer walls were adorned with colorful patterns that looked as if they came from a children’s cartoon, featuring balloons, flowers, various small animals, and a rhino painted so large that it covered more than half the wall, looking quite adorable.
Just by the appearance of the building, one might think it was some kind of indoor playground for children. In fact, it was a type of “paradise,” but not open to kids.
This was the warehouse and logistics center for Gray Rhino Meat Industry, controlling over seventy percent of the meat supply in the Free City.
At the same time, it was a good option for vagrants like Vivienne, who did not have steady jobs, to earn some income. Those poor souls fished out from the canal, if not valuable enough to send to the underground clinic on South Street, could be sold here.
An average of six bucks per pound, slightly higher than normal beef.
As for what Gray Rhino Meat Industry did with those acquisitions, no one was quite sure. It was said they were used in certain specialty restaurants, but there was no evidence to prove that.
“Only fifty bucks? d*mn it!” Vivienne waved the cash in her hand and complained to the weird cat on her shoulder, “Horace, do you think they see me as easy to bully?”
“Alright, alright!” The weird cat raised a paw and patted Vivienne’s shoulder. “I think this price is quite fair. Don’t forget what you fished out today.”
The corpse Vivienne had retrieved today seemed to be a product of gang conflict, with hardly any intact parts on it, and who knows how many bullets were still inside. The flesh around the wounds was already soaked and swollen. Getting fifty bucks for it was actually quite good.
“I’m just frustrated!” Vivienne rolled her eyes. “I worked my a** off all day and had to avoid the police’s gaze, yet they only give me this little!”
“Who can you blame?” the weird cat said. “You should blame that man you picked up yesterday. If he hadn’t delayed us from working, we wouldn’t have been left with such low-quality goods when we arrived…”
“Shut up, Horace!” Vivienne glared at the weird cat. “Don’t use your devilish attempts at stirring things up in this situation.”
“Uh, sorry, it’s a habit.” The weird cat avoided Vivienne’s gaze, glancing around quickly to change the subject. “Where are we going now? Back home?”
“Why go back home? Of course, we’re heading to Garden Street!” Vivienne said with a sneer. “We get our pay and head to Garden Street; isn’t that our usual practice?”
Garden Street and South Street could be considered the “hidden talents” of Free City, with Garden Street to the north and South Street to the south, both being the areas with the worst security, comparable in terms of chaos.
However, the difference was that South Street mainly gathered new forces like the Scarlet Pelican and Gray Rhino Meat Industry, while Garden Street, due to its geographical proximity to the northwest manor area, had long been dominated by gangs that had set foot in this land two to three hundred years ago.
Fortunately, the vast area of Free City, with its huge urban barriers, allowed the two hostile factions to avoid causing too much chaos; otherwise… it would truly answer to the joke of gunfights happening every day.
“Don’t you worry that the kid at home will wake up and run away?” the weird cat asked.
“Why worry?” Vivienne shrugged. “I just didn’t find what I wanted on him, but his aura of my powers hasn’t dissipated. As long as I want, I can confirm his location anytime. If he runs away, I can just catch him again.”
If he really does escape, maybe I can follow him and find what stores my powers… Vivienne added in her heart.
She always felt that the guy at home must have come into contact with her things; otherwise, there wouldn’t be such a strong residue of her aura. The fact that she couldn’t find it on him likely meant he had hidden it away.
In truth, she didn’t care where the item holding her powers was kept; she was just worried about the possibility of it leaking.
She felt she was saving the guy at home.
“Alright, since you say so…” the weird cat said. “Then let’s go to Garden Street!”
————
Free City, Garden Street.
In contrast to the bustling city center and southeast, and different from the richness of the manor area, this place declined after a brief prosperity brought by the waves of immigration between 1820 and 1920, leaving only a wreckage of post-celebration chaos.
To this day, the only notable landmark Garden Street can offer is one of Free City’s signature buildings—the Refuge Grand Theatre.
And Vivienne’s destination was near the Refuge Grand Theatre.
After getting off the bus, she glanced around, shoved her hands into her pockets, and walked straight toward that splendid theatre, which stood out among the old buildings.
However, instead of entering the theatre, she turned around as she reached the front door and slipped into a narrow alley, crossing it to step onto a dirty yet particularly lively street.
This was the original place where Garden Street began. Some say this is the real Garden Street, while those wide and clean streets surrounded by old buildings outside are merely an illusion.
As evening approached, rain began to fall again in Free City, splashing fine droplets onto the damp ground of the street, while the broken neon lights flickered faintly on both sides of the alley.
Cakes, electronics, vintage shops…
The signs near the street entrance seemed relatively normal; at worst, they advertised adult products, firearms, or shops disguised as candy stores selling marijuana. However, the deeper one went, the more bizarre the views and shop signs became.
Shops offering alchemical modifications, spirit energy items, and body augmentations gradually came into sight, and the air was filled with the sounds of conversations hidden beneath the bustling crowd, in Mandarin, accented English, and even African native tribal languages.
Some people, dressed like streetwalkers, mercenaries, or religious figures, stood by the roadside, looking around.
Vivienne wove through the crowd, heading toward a small alley. The arc lights at the alley’s entrance seemed old, flickering and giving off a dim glow, as if synchronized with her footsteps. At the end of the alley stood a cluster of makeshift tents covered with waterproof canvas, crowded in a space surrounded by buildings.
When she reached these tents, Vivienne headed straight for the largest deep blue tent, her gaze landing on the somewhat frightening-looking woman inside.
Like Vivienne, she had a very typical Celtic appearance, with green eyes, a high nose, and disorderly short red hair.
Some decorative items resembling electric wires intertwined with her red hair. From her appearance, she didn’t seem scary at all, and from the side, her body curve was on par with stars from television.
But when she heard the noise and turned around, revealing her hollow body missing an entire left arm and most of the left chest, looking like a waning moon, it would definitely be enough to make most people gasp in shock.
The loss of organizational integrity in the woman’s body could not even be described as a disability; for a normal human, no matter if the heart were on the right side, such severe damage would mean certain d*ath.
Yet she was still alive. At the moment Vivienne arrived, she was actively working with wires, pipes, and spiritual energy circuits connected to her missing body parts.
“Oh, isn’t this our dear Miss Vivienne?” the woman put down her tools and flashed a warm smile at Vivienne. “Are you here to bring us money again?”
Indeed, this was why she showed Vivienne enthusiasm.
“Cut the cr*p; this is the medicine fee for this month.” Vivienne rolled her eyes and tossed a thick bundle of cash onto the table in front of the woman. “How’s everyone doing lately?”
The woman picked up the cash on the table and frowned. “Just okay, can’t live well, but can’t d*e either…”
Halfway through, she set down the cash and looked at Vivienne. “Honestly, I’ve never understood why you help them pay for medical fees.”
“After all, the suffering those guys are enduring now stems from the choices they made in the past. Who told them to believe in an immature technology?”
“If you hadn’t cared for those guys, you could have saved up enough money to move to Metropolitan City and live in a big mansion, right?”
The “guys” she mentioned were the others living in this cluster of tents.
No, perhaps they could no longer be referred to as human.
Three years ago, when a group calling themselves “Messengers” appeared on Garden Street, bringing the modified body modification technology from the Urban Legend organization and claiming to help everyone transform at a low cost, these guys flocked to accept the modifications, gaining unprecedented power.
But no one had told them that the rejection reactions after the modifications would be so severe, nor had they been informed that the medicines to alleviate rejection reactions would cost more than ten times the modification fees.
After being drained of their finances by the Messengers, they gradually became urban legends due to the effects of rejection and ultimately could only hide like mice in dark corners, painfully waiting for d*ath, until… Vivienne Chapelier appeared.
“There’s no need to ask that question every time; no matter how many times you test me, I won’t tell you,” Vivienne said, glaring at the woman who was counting the money. “If you hadn’t secretly learned a bit of the Messengers’ modification techniques, you probably wouldn’t be much better off than they are now!”
“By the way, did you find that thing I asked you to look for earlier?”
“No,” the woman shook her head.
“No? It’s been a whole day already!” Vivienne widened her eyes. “Did you get high again during the day?”
“Of course not, I quit ages ago!” the woman explained. “I didn’t check; it’s just that there was no need to check. You can see for yourself.”
Saying this, she put down the cash she was holding, picked up a remote control, and turned on an old TV with an antenna nearby. After switching a few channels, she stopped on the city channel of Free City.
“Yu Yinchuan, Z Country national, codename Golden Toad Boy…” such a voice came from the TV.
“The bounty notice has been looping all day—drug trafficking, m*rder, robbery, suspected of pedophilia… Even I, a criminal, find him detestable!” the woman said viciously.
Vivienne, “…What the hell did I bring home?”
