Finally, the middle-aged man with white sideburns drank a mouthful of tea and sighed with a smile.
"Actually, this is already much better than what I had before. It's better than many people here, such as …"
He pointed at the homeless people huddled in a corner outside the window.
Klein and Mike looked over and saw a dirty spot that was sheltered from the wind. There were tramps curled up on the ground. There were men and women, old and young.
In this cold late autumn, they might not wake up again.
At this moment, Klein noticed an old lady in her sixties standing by the street. Her dress was old and tattered, but she was relatively clean. Her hair was neatly combed.
The white-haired old lady had the usual fatigue of a homeless person, but she still insisted on not squeezing with the crowd. Instead, she slowly walked by the side of the road, looking into the coffee shop numbly from time to time.
"She's also a pitiful person." The former homeless man who had eaten the rest of the black bread also noticed the old lady and sighed. "It's said that she had a pretty good life in the past. Her husband was a grain merchant and had a very spirited child. Unfortunately, he went bankrupt, and her husband and child died not long after. She's different from us. Really, you can tell at a glance … Sigh, she probably won't be able to last much longer unless she can enter the workhouse every time."
As he listened, Mike's expression turned from calm to gloomy. He slowly exhaled and said, "I want to interview her.
"I want to interview her. Can you invite her for me? She can eat and drink whatever she wants here. "
The middle-aged man didn't find this request strange. He only looked at Klein and Mike, as though saying that they were indeed colleagues.
"Alright, I'm sure she'll be happy to." He drank a mouthful of tea, got up, and walked out of the greasy coffee shop.
Before long, the old lady in an old but neat dress followed him in. Her pale face paled slightly under the warmth of the coffee shop.
She kept trembling, as though she wanted to release the coldness in her body bit by bit and absorb the relatively high temperature in the coffee shop. Even though she was sitting on a chair, it took her more than a minute to truly warm up.
"Order whatever you want. This is the reward for the interview," Klein said on Mike's behalf.
After Mike nodded, the old lady ordered toast, inferior cream, and coffee in a reserved manner. Then, she smiled.
"I heard that when you haven't had food for a long time, you can't eat greasy food."
Very polite, very self-controlled, not like a Wanderer at all … Klein sighed silently.
Before the food was delivered, Mike asked casually,
"Can you tell me how you became a wanderer?"
The old lady revealed a look of reminiscence and smiled bitterly.
"My husband is a grain merchant. He mainly buys all kinds of grain from farmers in the country. Ever since the Grain Act was repealed, we quickly went bankrupt."
"He wasn't young anymore. After being struck down by this incident, his body quickly collapsed and he died not long after."
"My boy, he was a fine young man who had been following his father in business. He couldn't take the blow, so he jumped into the Tussock River on a moonless night."
"His first suicide attempt failed, and he was sent to the magistrate's court. The police and the judge were very impatient, feeling that he was wasting their time."
"If you want to commit suicide, please do it quietly and successfully. Don't trouble us … Yes, they probably wanted to say that, but they found it too direct."
"My child was imprisoned. Not long after, he tried to commit suicide a second time, and he succeeded."
The old lady spoke very calmly, as though it wasn't something that had happened to her.
But for some reason, Klein felt a strong sense of sorrow.
There's no greater sorrow than a dead heart … He suddenly recalled a saying he had heard in his previous life.
In this World, suicide was not only forbidden by the various Churches, but it was also a target of punishment by the law.
As for the reason, Klein knew very well what it was. First of all, suicides often chose to jump into the river. If they weren't discovered in time, there was a certain chance that they would turn into a water ghost. Secondly, suicides were often in a bad mood. In such a state, ending one's life was equivalent to a sacrifice, and it was possible for one to resonate with a strange and terrifying existence.
Therefore, their bodies or the items around them would carry a strange curse after they died, harming others.
The Misfortune Cloth Puppet behind Tingen City's Chanis Gate might very well have come from this.
Therefore, the seven orthodox Churches forbade their believers from committing suicide based on their own doctrines. The royal family had also pushed for the corresponding legislation.
Of course, this sounded a little ridiculous to Klein. Would a suicidal person be afraid of the law or punishment?
Mike jotted down notes and was about to say something when the owner of the coffee shop brought the food over.
"Fill your stomach first. We'll talk later." Mike pointed at the toast.
"Alright." The old lady ate her food in small bites, appearing very cultured.
She didn't order much, so she quickly finished it.
After reluctantly drinking the last mouthful of coffee, she rubbed her temples and pleaded.
"Can I sleep for a while before we talk? It's too cold outside. "
"No problem," Mike answered without hesitation.
The old lady thanked him gratefully a few times, sat on a chair, and curled up to sleep.
Mike looked at the middle-aged man beside him.
"You seem to be very familiar with this place? I would like to hire you as our guide. How about three soli a day? Sorry, I forgot to ask for your name. "
The middle-aged man hurriedly shook his head.
"No, no, no. That's too much. Most of the time, I only earn one soli a day at the dock."
"Just call me Old Kohler."
"Then, two soli a day. That's what you deserve." Mike made the final decision.
After witnessing this strange bargaining, Klein used a piece of paper to wipe his snot. Just as he was about to refill his cup of coffee, he suddenly sensed that something was amiss. He turned to look at the old lady who was curled up in a chair, sleeping.
Her face, which had turned rosy from drinking coffee, turned pale once again. The color of her aura and emotions had disappeared.
"…" Klein stood up and subconsciously reached out to check the old lady's breathing.
Under Mike and Kohler's surprised gazes, he said heavily,
"She's dead."
Mike opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Kohler tapped his chest three times and smiled bitterly.
"I knew she wouldn't last long …"
"This happens every day in East Borough."
"At least she filled her stomach and died in a warm place. I hope, heh heh, I hope it'll be the same for me in the future."
Klein fell silent for a moment.
"Kohler, get the police over."
"Alright." Kohler tapped his chest three more times and ran out of the coffee shop.
The boss glanced over but didn't come over, as though it wasn't something he needed to care about.
After a while, a policeman in a black-and-white checkered uniform entered the coffee shop with a baton and a pistol.
He looked at the dead old lady and asked Mike and Klein a few questions before waving his hand.
"It's fine. You can leave after I get someone to collect the corpse."
"That's it?" Mike exclaimed in surprise.
He was clearly unfamiliar with East Borough.
The policeman chuckled.
"There are many such incidents in East Borough every day!"
He rolled his eyes and looked at Klein and Mike.
"You don't look like you're from here. What's your name? What's your identity? "
Mike took out his reporter's pass, and Klein said that he was a private detective who was protecting him.
The policeman's expression immediately turned serious as he looked at Klein.
"I suspect you of illegal possession of a gun!"
"I want to search your belongings. Please cooperate, or it will be considered resisting arrest!"
Mike instantly became worried because he knew that private detectives generally possessed guns illegally.
Klein spread out his hands expressionlessly.
"Alright."
He allowed the policeman to search him, but he didn't find anything.
After the old lady's corpse was sent away and the disappointed policeman left, Mike clenched his fist and pounded the table.
"A living person died here, but all he wants to do is investigate illegal possession of a gun!"
At this point, Mike turned to look at Klein and asked in puzzlement,
"You didn't bring a gun?"
Klein shook his head and pulled out his holster and revolver from under the table.
He calmly said, "As a detective, I have a lot of experience in this area."
As a "Magicians," he could place his gun in front of his opponent without them noticing.
Furthermore, as he hadn't bought ordinary bullets and had temporarily thrown the Beyonder bullets above the gray fog, his revolver was currently empty. However, this didn't stop him from shooting with a pistol. All he needed to do was to use his mouth to simulate a "bang" when he pulled the trigger.
Seeing this, Old Kohler whispered, "Don't worry.
"So you're a detective."
Klein pointed at Mike and casually explained,
"Last time, I was also entrusted by this gentleman."
Mike sat there and did not refute. After a moment of silence,
"Although I've investigated the gangs and seen the miserable lives of some prostitutes, I don't know much about the situation in East Borough. Help me take a look and see if there are any problems with this interview plan."
As he spoke, he took out a few pieces of paper from the inside pocket of his shirt and unfolded them on the coffee shop table.
Klein glanced at it and said,
"Interviews with East Borough residents of different ages?"
"That's too troublesome. I think it can be divided according to the location. A better apartment, an apartment with five or six people squeezed into a room, a street corner sheltered from the wind, a park bench, a bar, or a workhouse."
"In addition, it can be divided into working hours and resting hours."
Mike listened carefully and nodded.
"Not a bad idea. What do you think, Kohler?"
Old Kohler pinched his nose and said,
"I don't know the words … but I think there's nothing wrong with what the detective said."
Mike thought for a moment and modified his plan.
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