Alger lifted his head to glance at the wall clock. Seeing that it was past eight o'clock, he set down his thick glass goblet, squeezed past the drunks coming and going, and stepped out onto the street.
Because the Rorsted Archipelago had abundant coal resources, Bayam, just like continental cities such as Backlund and Pritz Harbor, had tall black lamp posts standing on the streets. The light of the burning gas shone through the metal grids, illuminating the fairly clean ground.
Alger tugged at his turban and unhurriedly turned into a nearby alley. At the dead end, he smelled the stench of urine mixed with the smell of alcohol—although the Fragrant Leaf Bar had a restroom, the number was clearly insufficient for the peak-hour customers, and some impatient drunks who couldn't wait had to come out and find a secluded place to relieve themselves.
The red moonlight passed through the clouds and shone into the alley. Alger was still debating whether he should act a little more convincingly when a solid and full voice, containing a hint of a smile, came from behind him: "Are you deliberately revealing the news about the 'Blazing Flame' to us?"
Not stupid... Alger muttered to himself, slowly turning around as if guarding against a sudden attack.
He saw a figure leaning against the wall, seven or eight paces away, standing poorly.
This figure was around 1.78 meters tall, wearing a peaked cap, with a thin face, sharp features, and an aggressive appearance.
He had a lock of black hair hanging down, half-covering his left emerald-green eye, which softened his natural coldness and harshness a little.
Although wanted posters often differed greatly from the real person, and many well-known pirates didn't even need a disguise to wander around the city, Alger, as a Church insider, had seen many portraits drawn through rituals that were almost like photographs, and had also participated in the Pirates' Gathering, so he successfully connected the person before him with a certain name on the wanted list.
He didn't show this and deliberately hesitated and asked: "Calm Scola?"
This was 'Steel' Meviti's main helper, a Beyonders skilled at controlling emotions, thinking calmly, but completely ruthless, with a bounty of 1,500 pounds.
The man tugged his black trench coat, smiled without any warmth in his eyes, and said: "Can I deny it?" "Mm... It seems I can't. Just as you can't deny that you intentionally mentioned the 'Blazing Flame' in front of Oluma. He is not a person who likes to use his brain, and I am just the opposite."
"I never intended to hide it. I just hope to use the information I obtained to exchange for some compensation. Between a lone 'Blazing Flame' and a 'Steel' with many helpers, anyone with a normal brain knows which to choose. Of course, I hope you will keep it a secret for me. I don't want to be hunted by 'Vice Admiral Iceberg'." Alger replied frankly.
Scola nodded leisurely and slowly: "Tell me in detail."
"Just as I mentioned before, I met and recognized the 'Blazing Flame' at the Golden Coin Casino. He entrusted me to help keep an eye on 'Steel's movements. Heh, it seems he wants to launch a counterattack." Alger chuckled. "We agreed on a contact point. I think this information is worth at least 1,000 pounds."
"1,000 pounds? Look up at the crimson moon, are you dreaming?" Scola snorted. "This might be a trap. Don't you understand? The 'Blazing Flame' has probably found helpers, which is why he dares to seek us out instead."
"Whether it's a trap or not is not for me to judge. 500 pounds. Below that amount, I'd rather pretend nothing happened." Alger argued for the reward.
"300 pounds. You come with me to a place and stay there for a while, to avoid you selling this news to someone else and disrupting our plans. After we indeed use this information to catch the 'Blazing Flame', or channel his spirit, we will pay you. Don't worry, food, wine, and bed are all free. Either way, you're making a profit! If something unexpected comes from you, heh, you should know the consequences." Scola proposed in a tone that brooked no refusal.
As expected, the same as I predicted. With my unclear background and lack of major danger, the possibility of temporary confinement is far higher than silencing me... Still, I have prepared for the worst. As long as I don't get careless, escape shouldn't be a problem... Alger pretended to think about it with difficulty: "No more than two days. Otherwise, my crew will leave with my ship."
"If it exceeds two days, I will inform them." Scola had somehow gained a sharp scalpel in his palm, and like a juggler, he made it jump and spin.
After Alger described the contact point at 15 Fragrant Tree Avenue and the corresponding contact method, Scola said nothing more. He turned and led the way, leading Alger through twists and turns until they reached an unknown street and entered a completely unremarkable house.
"Long time no see, Captain of the Blue Ghost Ship." The person who opened the door was an old man whose hair was more white than black. He was dressed like a local, wearing loose wide-legged pants.
"Old Quinn, you really are the intelligence officer of 'Blood Admiral'..." Alger spoke with feigned surprise.
Old Quinn chuckled: "Rumors are always partly true and partly false. What you think is false might be true."
He didn't turn on the gas wall lamp but held a silver candlestick, leading Alger and Scola through the dark hall into a spacious, solid, windowless basement.
"You'll stay here for a while. I and a few of my friends will be responsible for the watch and provide you with wine and food." Old Quinn said with a smile. "To show our sincerity, we will not disarm you."
"Alright." Alger took the initiative to walk towards the low bed in the basement.
Old Quinn then closed the heavy stone door and locked the basement.