Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1292: Vortex

The street performance didn’t last long—before long the crowd dispersed, and it was already nine o’clock in the evening.

Cheng Yiran began packing up his equipment. He wasn’t performing alone; a few others were with him as well—friends he’d met by chance after coming to Foggy City, people he’d gotten to know at a rock bar.

“Thanks a lot, Will. Really, for being willing to come out and mess around with me,” Cheng Yiran said as he walked over to Will, who was packing up the amplifier.

“No problem. I didn’t have anything to do tonight anyway,” Will said with a smile.

“Did the police come looking for you again today?” Cheng Yiran asked casually.

Because of Will’s phone call last night, Cheng Yiran had contacted the police. Officers later went to the social service center. After making an audio statement at the scene and submitting some identification, he’d returned to the dormitory at the conservatory.

“No,” Will shook his head, a little puzzled. “Those guys didn’t come again… it’s strange. Later I called the police station to ask about it, but they didn’t seem very concerned at all. They were even a bit perfunctory.”

“What about the people who tried to take someone away?”

Will shook his head again. “They haven’t shown up either.”

“I see…” Cheng Yiran nodded. “You should still be careful. What are you planning to do next? Want to go sit at a music bar for a while? We could call the others.”He glanced at Will’s companions—the members of Will’s punk band, who were also his coworkers at the social service center.

“No, I’m heading back to the center later,” Will said. “Things were kind of a mess last night, and some areas still haven’t been cleaned up.”

“Then I’ll come help too,” Cheng Yiran said with a smile. “Consider it thanks for you guys keeping me company tonight.”

“Oh! That would be great! Cheng, could you cook some fried noodles for me while you’re at it? I seriously love Chinese food!” one of the companions shouted excitedly.

Will shook his head helplessly, then glanced at the bag slung over Cheng Yiran’s back. He always carried that guitar case with him. Even last night, when he rushed to the social service center after calling the police, he’d brought it along.

Cheng Yiran did carry a guitar—but he had never taken this particular one out to play. Will had sometimes wondered whether there really was a guitar inside that case at all.

Cheng Yiran had brought it again for tonight’s street performance, along with another guitar—the one he actually played.

Will had once asked him about the guitar he never took out.

Cheng Yiran had only smiled and said that he wasn’t ready yet, that he didn’t yet have enough weight to pick it up.

What kind of preparation did it take to pick up a guitar?

Will didn’t understand, of course—but he respected other people’s privacy, so his curiosity never went beyond that.

“Come to think of it,” Cheng Yiran said, watching a police car roar past, “haven’t there been a lot of police cars tonight?”

“Now that you mention it… yeah,” Will said, startled. “Seems like it.”

Suddenly, a child walked up to Cheng Yiran and handed him an envelope, saying that someone had asked him to deliver it. Curious, Cheng Yiran opened it and found a piece of cardstock inside.

—“you-can-fly”

There was no signature, just a short message of encouragement. The three words on the card looked almost plain.

He froze for a moment.

“What is it, Cheng?” Will asked curiously. “Who gave it to you?”

Cheng Yiran showed him the card, then shook his head. “Probably just a kind person trying to encourage someone.”

Denial, slander, curses—arguments were everywhere.

People willing to encourage a stranger were rare.

…

Receiving a note of encouragement from a stranger made Cheng Yiran happier than drawing a crowd during the performance ever had.

Under Will’s curious gaze, Cheng Yiran unzipped the guitar case he had never opened before and placed the card with the encouraging words inside.

Chatting and laughing, the group soon arrived at the social service center’s entrance. There, Will saw someone who surprised him.

Dressed in a black jacket, leaning against a motorcycle and looking around—

“Mr. Klein?” Will asked in surprise. Why would this “motorcycle knight” come by again? Judging by the situation, he seemed to have been waiting for a while.

The person outside the center was indeed Knight Klein of the Knight Bureau, currently ordered to rest.

“I happened to be free today,” Klein explained quickly. “I remembered what happened to that kid yesterday and got a bit worried, so I came to take a look.”

That was the truth. Because he’d been ordered by his superior, Mr. Gareth, Klein was currently unable to take part in any Knight Bureau operations.

But he wasn’t the type to sit idle. And it wasn’t as if he could just put on a red-and-blue skintight suit and become a movie superhero fighting crime.

As a knight, he had never cared for hiding in the shadows.

“I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed,” Will sighed.

“What happened?” Klein frowned, instinctively sensing that something was wrong.

“Well, actually…”

…

“A brother and sister? And wearing black trench coats…”

After hearing Will’s account, Klein subconsciously made a connection, though he couldn’t be certain. “Will, can you describe their specific features in more detail?”

“How should I put it… they felt like gang members, but not quite,” Will said. “I remember them saying that once the job was done, they wouldn’t appear in front of me again. That’s what confused me.”

He also mentioned the police officers’ perfunctory attitude.

That made Klein even more certain that what Will had encountered last night might have been Knight Bureau members on an operation. But why seize a child?

A brother and sister…

Could it be… one of the beastfolk who had gone missing at the docks yesterday?

Realizing he might have brushed past one of the missing beastfolk, Klein felt a wave of regret. Was he still too young, after all?

“Hey, stop talking for a second,” one of Will’s coworkers suddenly said. “Will, besides us, is anyone else scheduled to be on duty tonight? Why are the lights on inside?”

Only one room in the center was lit. As everyone instinctively looked over, the light suddenly went out.

Vaguely, they seemed to see a figure dart past.

“Could it be the people who caused trouble last night?” Cheng Yiran said instinctively.

“This…” Will hesitated.

“I’ll go check,” Klein said abruptly. Without waiting for anyone’s response, he leaped up along the wall beside the entrance.

Yes—leaped up, parkour-style climbing, but far more effortless.

“Cool…” a coworker exclaimed in awe.

Will hurried to unlock the door. Was there really something missing in this “motorcycle knight’s” head?

…

In the pitch-dark corridor, Klein lightened his footsteps as much as possible, straining to listen to every sound. He could clearly sense that someone was hiding in here.

“Come out. I already know where you are—there’s no need to hide.”

He spoke aloud, trying to make the other party nervous. However, Klein failed to notice that up on a crossbeam in the dark corridor, a pair of amber-colored eyes was observing him.

Suddenly, the owner of those amber eyes lunged down from behind at the young knight.

Klein sensed the danger approaching. At the critical moment, he spun around, crossing both arms in front of his chest. A tremendous force slammed into him, forcing him to retreat rapidly.

In the corridor, a blurry black shadow could be seen leaping continuously. Klein was secretly alarmed—this time, he had truly run into a non-human.

A dull ache spread through the bones of his arm. He’d been injured during yesterday’s chaos, and it still hadn’t healed.

There was no time now to report to the Knight Bureau and request backup. He could only face it head-on. Klein quickly adjusted his breathing, focusing all his attention on the movements of the agile shadow.

Just then—click.

In an instant, the corridor was lit up like daylight. The first thing Klein saw was a young girl, her arm raised high—but the moment the lights came on, her arm froze in midair.

“What are you doing?”

As the lights turned on and the girl halted her attack, Will’s puzzled voice came through.

In the next instant, the girl swiftly retreated to stand in front of Will. Klein was just about to shout a warning when her next move left him momentarily stunned.

She wasn’t attacking Will at all. Instead, she stood in front of him, glaring at Klein with a fierce, guarded expression. Rather than trying to hurt Will, it looked more like she was protecting him.

“Can someone tell me what’s going on…”

Cheng Yiran arrived last, completely bewildered. He looked at the scene, then casually glanced at the girl striking a pose—just as he was about to speak, his gaze caught sight of a tail swaying behind her.

“…Th-this…”

That tail… was it real?

…

…

“Mr. Chen, what are you doing?”

In the corridor—more precisely, the hallway outside the presidential suite of the Foggy City Song Dynasty Hotel—Peter Chen, who was responsible for hosting their guests this time, was sneakily pressing his ear against the door, as if eavesdropping.

“Don’t interrupt me, I’m listening! I’ve been listening—” Peter Chen abruptly shut his mouth when he realized whose voice it was. “Qi—Young Master Qiu! Good evening! The moon looks especially beautiful tonight, hahaha…”

“The moon does look quite nice tonight,” Luo Qiu nodded, casually glancing out the window. “So, Mr. Chen—what were you listening for?”

“Uh… well…” Peter Chen replied quickly, “rats! I was listening for rats! Young Master Qiu, you may not know, but today is pest-control day at our hotel. Those rats are incredibly cunning—you have no idea what they grow up eating!”

“I see.” Luo Qiu smiled and nodded. “Are you going inside?”

“No need, just listening is enough… Mm, I’m done listening! Don’t worry, Young Master Qiu—your room is absolutely fine. Very clean. Very safe!”

As he spoke, Peter Chen hurriedly stepped aside and made an enthusiastic inviting gesture. Inside, though, he was puzzled. He clearly hadn’t seen Young Master Qiu leave the hotel all day—so how had he suddenly come back from outside?

And his companion, too. Judging by their appearance, they looked like they’d just returned from shopping.

But hadn’t the housekeeping staff said they’d seen the two of them sunbathing on the suite’s balcony that afternoon?

“Thank you,” Luo Qiu said with a smile, swiping the key card and leading Miss Maid into the room.

“If you need anything, just let me know, Young Master Qiu! I’m on duty 24 hours a day!”

“Thanks—but I think, Mr. Chen, you should probably get some rest.”

“No trouble at all, no trouble…” Peter Chen said with a forced smile, while inwardly recalling how, on a gamble, he had reported last night’s information to Miss Ying.

Last night…

…

“What? A smaller-sized erotic sailor uniform? He really wants that?”

Song Ying, who was applying a facial mask, opened her mouth in shock. The mask slid right off as she muttered incredulously, “You really can’t tell… that woman looks so proper, yet she plays this kind of man-seducing game. Tsk.”

“Miss Ying? Miss Ying? Did you say something?”

“Oh… nothing! You did well, Chen—Peter Chen, right? Mm, you did very well. Keep it up.” Song Ying put on a fresh mask and said casually, “I want to know what they say, what they eat, what they do, how long they do it—more details are better. Got it?”

“Understood, understood… h-how long they do it?”

“Just do as you’re told. Why so much nonsense?”

“Yes, yes, yes…”

…

The door slowly closed. Peter Chen’s thoughts returned from last night’s video call. Then, in good spirits, he crept back toward the door and pressed his ear against it again.

Unexpectedly, the door suddenly opened. Peter Chen felt something scorch his ear, and he immediately let out a pig-slaughter-like scream.

Miss Maid was standing outside, holding a kettle used for boiling water. She covered her mouth in “surprise.” “Mr. Chen, why are you still here? Did I hurt you? The water’s cooled down—I was just going to pour it out.”

“Ow, ow, ow… no, no pain, it doesn’t hurt, I’m fine, hahaha, I’m fine,” Peter Chen said, forcing a smile.

Inside, he was screaming in his heart.

This is a presidential suite, miss! Coming out to pour water—are you kidding me?

And that water was clearly just boiled—how do you have the nerve to say it’s cooled down?!

(End of Chapter)