Chapter 725: Mansell Gang
Chapter 725: Mansell Gang
"Grandma Mo! How lucky we are to find you here since it seems you are out most of the time," snickered the lanky man in the middle, who had a mohawk haircut. His nose was so big and crooked that he seemed like a parrot. "You are a bit late on our payment."
"There is still time before that," said Grandma Mo, seeming unsurprised by the presence of these people. Arthur stared with interest at the crowd, who all made themselves comfortable in the inn.
"Don't be like that. We have to take early payment since the end of the month will happen with the executions. This ensures this neighborhood doesn't get destroyed in the hustle and bustle. This is for your good, I promise, grandma!"
"Call me that again, and I will cut out your tongue," said Grandma Mo with the same expression, and the gang chuckled before they started laughing.
"You are a funny one, old lady," clapped one of the girls as she sat on a stool. "However, humor isn't always appreciated. Pay up, or we will bring this shithole down."
Clink!
The woman had a crossbow loaded with a bolt before aiming at Grandma Mo. However, even though she was being threatened, Grandma Mo resumed walking toward the door to deliver the medicine.
"Is this woman crazy?" questioned the crossbow woman before she clicked her tongue and fired toward Grandma Mo.
"Idiot, stop it!" shouted the mohawk guy, but the trigger pulled, and the bolt whistled in the air as it headed directly toward Grandma Mo's back. However, the bolt suddenly shifted slightly and struck a wooden pillar, which Grandma Mo passed. "Good thing you missed," sighed the mohawk guy as Grandma Mo passed him. "We won't leave this place until you return with the money."
"As I said, the money will be here when the time is due," said Grandma Mo as she walked out of the inn. The mohawk guy clicked his tongue as he turned around, scanning the premises.
He blinked as he noticed Arthur standing behind the counter, silently watching the scene. But, of course, none of them paid attention to him since many bums came here regularly to help the old woman.
"Are you a new worker for that witch?" asked the mohawk man as he walked toward the counter and slammed his fist on it. "Go and get us the promised money, then! I'm sure she has it hidden somewhere in this place."
"Are you from the Bloodflower Gang?" Arthur asked with interest, and the man's expression crumbled. "You don't seem like it, though. I expect them to be a little more civil than this. This group is nothing but a bunch of crooks."
"What did you say, bastard?!" shouted the woman, as did the rest of the group. There were nine people who varied in size, appearance, and gender. However, all of them looked to be acting like gangsters rather than real ones.
"I asked if you are from the Bloodflower Gang," repeated Arthur, and the place grew noisy with their barking. Finally, however, the mohawk man raised his arm, and the rest closed their mouths.
"You seem familiar with that name," said the mohawk as he studied Arthur closely. "Who are you, and what are you doing in this place?"
"I am the judge," said Arthur with a smile, "of your life and death."
His expression froze their hearts, and none of them dared to act rashly. All of them reached out toward their weapons except for the mohawk man, who glared at Arthur as if he recognized him. Then, his eyes widened.
"You are the newcomer from Dark World, who sat with the Bloodflower Gang," said the mohawk with surprise. "I knew I saw your face somewhere. Do you think we are to be trifled with?"
"And who are you?" asked Arthur with genuine confusion. The mohawk man pulled down his leather jacket and revealed a tattoo on his shoulder. It looked like the letter M, but with wings on each side.
"We are the Mansell Gang, the strongest syndicate in Ilios! I will let this go since you are a newcomer, but don't go around acting all tough without knowing shit."
"The Mansell Gang," muttered Arthur before shaking his head. "I have never heard of them, even though I've been in Ilios for years. But, of course, it might be because the gang is too small to be known."
"Do you have a death wish?" barked the crossbow woman as she aimed her gun at him. Arthur turned toward her, staring at her silently.
"You almost killed an elderly earlier, without a shred of hesitation. I doubt anyone would care if you died right here," Arthur said as he reached out toward her. The ponytail-woman panicked and fired the crossbow, sending a bolt toward Arthur.
With a twist of his finger, the bolt circled him and stopped in front of the woman's eyes. She let out a yelp as she staggered back, which made the bolt advance closer to piercing her head.
"Have you ever tried suffering your attacks?" Arthur asked as the rest of the gang stared in shock. Then, all of them rushed toward Arthur to attack him.
Arthur was ready to take them all down when the door was pushed open, and Grandma Mo entered. Then, with a single breath, she shouted so loud that their eardrums almost burst.
"Unruly brats! Leave this place at once, or I will kick you out myself! If anyone dares to fight here, I will skin them alive and feed them to the pigs!"
Arthur stopped his actions and stared at the wrinkled face of this woman. As he met her eyes, Arthur understood that she was against harming them. The bolt fell to the ground, and so did the crossbow woman.
"Leave now, or I will skin you with her," said Arthur as he stared at their leader. Then, after composing himself, the mohawk guy gulped and picked up his gang member before leaving the inn.
"We will come back tomorrow for the money! Have it prepared by then, old bones!" shouted the gangsters before leaving the inn with their tails between their legs. Arthur watched them go before turning toward Grandma Mo with a questioning gaze.
"I could have killed them all," said Arthur as a fact, not a promise. Grandma Mo wobbled toward one of the tables and sat down, seeming exhausted.
"I know, but these brats aren't bad people," said Grandma Mo as she shakily reached out toward her pocket and took out a vile of pills. "There are no bad people, just bad circumstances."
"They chose to be gangsters, and she chose to pull the trigger," said Arthur as he walked toward her table. "If I hadn't interfered and changed its trajectory, that bolt would have killed you."
"I felt no desire to kill that girl," said Grandma Mo before she started coughing. "I knew I wasn't going to die. It might be because I met you and probably because I have things left to do."
"Our meeting was a coincidence, and the world doesn't wait for you to finish your tasks," said Arthur as he pulled a chair and sat in front of her. "So, will you tell me what that was about?"
"Why would you care about this?" asked Grandma Mo with confusion after she swallowed her pill. "I met you today, but you seem unable to walk away from an unfavorable situation."
"I am used to being in that kind of situation because I know it means I'm on the right path," replied Arthur as he looked around the inn. "A simpler reason is that I became interested in the story behind this place and behind the woman still living in it."
"Curiosity killed the cat," said Grandma M, her whitish eyes turning crescents in a weak smile. "You are a good kid, but this isn't where you belong."
"I heard that sentence a lot, making me hate it," said Arthur as he tapped his finger on the table. "Whether I belong here or not is decided by my desire, not the circumstances."
"A stubborn goat," snorted the old woman as her smile disappeared. Then, she rose from her chair, her bones seemingly unable to support her. "If I tell you, would you leave this place?"
"I will consider it," said Arthur as he stared at Grandma Mo walk behind the counter and start rampaging through pots and ingredients.
"This is a story of no relevance to the present, and hearing it will lead you to no gold," she said while washing vegetables. "It will make you none stronger, wiser, or luckier. However, if it is something you want to hear, then I have no reason to refuse."
"As long as it answers my three questions." Arthur walked toward the counter and sat on a stool. "The first: who are you? The second: what are you doing in this place? And the last: why?"
"A truly curious child," said Grandma Mo with a shake of her head. "You remind me of someone just as stubborn, and this story is about him."