Cromwell returned quickly, "I visited the nearby neighbors and 'persuaded' them to provide some clues; I already have a lead."
Lex followed him out of the house, watched the Arbiter lock the door and put the key back in its original place, then hurried towards the street.
Cromwell said as he walked, "Lynn has been kidnapped by the Zmanger gang."
"Zmanger gang?" Lex's rhetorical question indicated that he was unfamiliar with this organization.
The Arbiter nodded slightly and said, "Yes, they are a notorious gang. I just arrived in Backlund and learned about them through two commissions."
"The reason I can confirm it's them is because one of the neighbors provided a description of an important figure in that gang."
Lex quickly followed and said, "It seems you know where to find your lawyer friend."
Cromwell grunted and quickened his pace.
Backlund.
East District.
On a rare day without thick fog, the sunlight still struggled to dispel the 'gloom' here: numb pedestrians walking on the road, a homeless man picking up a fruit pit from the roadside to eat, a woman sitting on the roadside waiting to die because she had no money for treatment.
They imbued this street with an invisible layer of coldness and bleakness.
In front of an abandoned factory, a carriage arrived and stopped nearby.
The carriage door opened, and a middle-aged man emerged. He had a slicked-back hairstyle, wore a formal suit, bit on a cigar, and sneered as he looked at the factory's half-open gate.
As he walked through the door, he saw a dark-skinned, hollow-eyed, lean and capable man leaning against the doorframe.
Clearly of highland descent, he glanced towards the deeper part of the factory area: "I've brought you the person you wanted."
"Thank you for taking the time to help me out this once, even though you're busy." The man with the slicked-back hair said, pulling an envelope from his pocket.
The lean man took the envelope, opened it, inhaled the smell of the ink inside, then put the envelope away, whistled, and four or five people walked out of the factory area.
"I've left you two fellows. Enjoy yourself, Mr. Kim."
The man named Kim took a puff of his cigar: "I will."
After these people left, Kim hummed a tune and, with a dance step from a banquet, entered the factory area.
Here, someone was tied up, hands bound, and suspended with his feet about ten centimeters off the ground.
The person hanging in mid-air looked to be twenty-five or twenty-six, not yet thirty. He wore a white shirt, his vest was open, and there were some bloodstains on it.
His brown hair was disheveled, and on his deeply set, handsome face, his left eye socket had a bruise.
Hearing Kim's voice, he looked over, then started to laugh.
Kim stopped, looked at him, and said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Lynn."
"Kim, well, I hope you know what you're doing."
'Lawyer' Lynn seemed not to care at all about his current predicament, and said with a smile, "Allow me to remind you that, so far, according to the laws of our kingdom, you have already committed crimes such as incitement, suspected kidnapping, illegal detention, and assault, among others."
"Could you please shut up? Or perhaps, let me sew your mouth shut?" Kim took a puff of his cigar, "Do you know what I hate most about you lawyers?"
"You're always chattering, always saying this isn't allowed, that isn't allowed. Just like with the acquisition of the Alik Steel Mill, if you had just done as I said and made them give up 51% of the shares, instead of 10%..."
"Then right now, we'd be sharing fine wine in a restaurant, instead of meeting in this filthy place. Damn it, can't they, the Zmanger gang, find a better place? It's always this broken factory..."
Lynn chuckled, "I've already said, I have principles. I won't just do whatever you want."
"Principles? What are they worth? Are they more important than your life?" Kim gestured to a tall, thin man nearby, "Lower him a bit."
A moment later, Lynn dropped to the ground. Kim walked over and blew a choking puff of smoke in his face: "Now, let me give you a suggestion, Mr. Lynn. On monday morning, I want to see a brand new contract."
"That contract had better have that wonderful number 51 on it. Then, you can go home now, hire a worker to tidy up your house, and if you have time, you can even go fishing."
"Otherwise, I'm afraid that after tomorrow, there won't be a Lynn Beard in Backlund."
Lynn laughed: "Is that so? Then let me deduce it for you. If I don't show up at the office on monday, my assistant will open my drawer and find an envelope inside."
"You see, I foresaw this and made some arrangements beforehand. I just didn't expect you could hire that executioner; I truly underestimated you."
"Back to that letter, I've already stated in it that if anything happens to me, you are the biggest suspect. Then this letter will be sent to the Police Station, and I happen to have a few friends in the Police Station who will take this matter very seriously."
"Then, you're finished, Mr. Kim."
Kim's expression changed.
Lynn continued, "Furthermore, I also have some capable friends who know my habit of not working on friday afternoons. Perhaps some scoundrel is eyeing that bottle of Ormir wine in my house, which is the best wine from Intis and hard to find elsewhere."
"In that case, they will discover that I've been kidnapped, and the outcome remains the same: you'll still be finished."
"So you see, Kim, from the beginning, I knew you were an idiot. That's also why I refused to help you raise the shares to 51%."
"Ah!"
Kim punched Lynn in the face, then smiled and pulled out a gleaming dagger from his pocket, pressing it against the lawyer's throat: "Lynn, dear Lynn. You'd better say something that pleases me next, otherwise, your eloquent mouth will never be able to serve its purpose again."
Just then.
Gunshots rang out!
The factory window shattered, and Kim's hand gripping the dagger blossomed with blood. The dagger clattered to the ground. When he turned around, he was shot in the shoulder again, and with a scream, he fell to the ground.
Two Zmanger gang members pulled out their daggers and revolvers, but a stern voice commanded, "Drop your weapons."
With two clangs, they dropped their weapons, then came to their senses and fled in a panic.
Kim clutched his shoulder, his features contorted in pain. He saw two men, both dressed as gentlemen, leap through the broken window.
However, on their faces, one wore an exaggerated golden mask, while the other had a white smiling mask with two small mustaches.
"You, who are you?" Kim stammered.
The man in the golden mask shouted in a low voice: "Get lost!"
Kim genuinely wanted to obey this 'suggestion,' so he scrambled up and ran, stumbling onto his carriage and hurrying away in a panic.