Vincent finally got to meet Mr. Lee the next morning. He had a curved mustache popular amongst gentlemen of certain circles and a mole under his left eye. Dressed in a prim manner, he behaved very politely and agreeably. The two had a long chat in the morning and Vincent managed to find out much regarding the city from his landlord.

Vincent flipped the newspaper and read a report about a scuffle among two gangs that led to three deaths. "It looks like some part of the city aren't safe at all. I have been noticing these news ever since I came here."

"Indeed. The areas near the slums are specially dangerous. Rumors are, that there are many establishments that facilitate gatherings for dangerous people every now and then." Mr. Lee sipped his tea and continued. "The police tried cracking down on them multiple times to no avail. Dishonest people are as common as cockroaches there after all. Now that the authorities have stopped taking actions, the crime rate has shot up recently."

Vincent pretended to be confused and asked, "Gathering for dangerous people? It doesn't sound sensible at all. What do they even do there?"

"I wouldn't know such details. But Mr. Harper, my employer heard this from a local gang leader directly. He said that even the gang leader was cautious of these dangerous people."

"Your employer seems to keep all sorts of company."

"Not at all, the gang leader just happened to be a childhood friend of his. Will Gunsmith was his name, if I recall correctly."

"Well I am sure knowing people in such occupation has its own merits. It has been rather rude of me to comment on Mr. Harper's company. I ask for your forgiveness." Vincent put on an apologetic expression and bowed to convey his sincerity.

"Please don't be. I am sure you find these matters strange after having just returned from the imperial capital Wroling. It is said to be the most peaceful city in the entire continent after all."

*****

8 p.m.

Outskirts of the slums

Vincent was wearing a rustic black frock coat matched with a black pant. A top hat adorned his head and his lower face was covered by a brown and black checkered scarf. Only the upper bridge of his nose and his eyes could be seen. He wasn't wearing his spectacles and given his common brown eyes, even a professional would find it difficult to recognize him after much scrutiny.

Entering a rowdy bar, he approached the bartender and sat in front of the big guy.

"What can I get for you?" The bartender had a soft voice contrary to his rough and burly appearance.

"A whiskey and someone who knows a lot."

The man placed the whiskey in front of Vincent and spoke, "Here's your whiskey. As for the other order, you can talk to the bald man over in that corner. The total will be 3 shillings."

"Thanks." Vincent paid four shillings to the bartender who smiled and pocketed the coins.

Vincent went over to the bald man and pushed the drink to him. "For you my friend. I heard you know a lot."

"You have come to the right man." Bald guy took a sip from his free drink and continued. "What do you want to know?"

"Where can I find Will Gunsmith?" Lowering his voice, Vincent moved closer and asked.

"Not a famous name that one, I tell you. But still expensive nonetheless. That will be three pounds."

Vincent hated how the man was trying to cheat him by charging such a high price but could do nothing but pay up. Committing the bald man's appearance to his memory, he pulled out three bills from his wallet and handed it to the man.

"East district of the outer slums. 4th street. The biggest house at the end of the alleyway."

Vincent swiftly left after receiving the information and bought a hooded coat in the shopping district. Such an article was generally avoided by the well off people as it was popular among the people in dishonest profession. Donning his newly bought cloth, he headed for the location he had just received.

Two hooligans were smoking right outside the house and laughing uproariously from time to time. The people living nearby found it annoying but dared not voice out any complaints. The men working for the owner of the house were all low lifes who weren't scared of breaking the law.

Vincent readjusted the scarf ensuring that his face was covered properly. He walked towards the duo as if he was going to one of the houses nearby. The hooligans didn't pay much attention to him either and he approached them normally. Once in close range, he punched a guy in the solar plexus knocking him out cold. The other guy was shocked at the sudden development and tried to hurriedly grab his knife. Sadly for him, the attacker moved at an insane speed and had a knife to his throat before he could do anything. The young man raised his scrawny arms to indicate his surrender.

"Turn around." Vincent spoke in a rough voice and hit the man in the back of his head with the blunt handle of the knife.

Dragging two unconscious bodies inside, he headed upstairs after locking the door. He had expected more men to be present but found no other guards. Rejoicing at the amount of energy he could save, he headed for the master bedroom.

A fat man was hugging a young woman to sleep. Both of them were naked and covered by a single thin blanket. The room had the smell of sweat and other bodily fluids. Pulling out his new revolver, Vincent put it against the fat man's head. The cold metallic sensation forced the man awake and Vincent placed his index finger against the man's lips.

"Are you Will Gunsmith?"

The man nodded with great enthusiasm to save his life. The movement however, shook the bed and woke the woman too. As the situation became clear to her, she placed both her palms against her mouth to prevent herself from shouting.

Vincent praised the girl inwardly for her smart move and continued with his question. "Tell me about the special gathering."

Will Gunsmith was sweating like a pig. Though he was the leader of a gang, he had never been in such a perilous situation. It was always him pointing guns at others. Calming himself to the best of his ability, he answered, "Dozens of dangerous people gather at the alley two blocks down from here every Friday. They mysteriously disappear after midnight and never come out. I have sent people to examine the place for secret passages and such but found nothing. It's almost as if they all vanish into thin air only to congregate there next week all over again."

Vincent cocked the hammer and asked in a threatening manner, "Are you lying?"

The action scared the fat man and he began explaining hysterically. "I know it sounds like a made up story. But it's true. Every last word. Please trust me."

"I will be back for you if I find out that you lied. Please do behave well till then. I hope you two have a wonderful night. Farewell." Saying so, Vincent headed back for his room leaving both the man and woman in cold sweats.

*****

It was Wednesday morning and Vincent was enjoying the breakfast delivered to his room. He was very curious about how the people that had gathered together would just disappear mysteriously. He couldn't wait to find out but he had something important to take care of today. Finishing his food at a leisurely pace, he put on a morning suit and headed out.

The destination this time was St John's sanatorium. Hailing a coach, he arrived there after half an hour. Paying the coachman, he alighted the coach and entered the facility. It was a huge establishment maintained by the royal family and many chronically ill patients were living here.

He was greeted by a female receptionist in the counter. "Good morning young sir. How may I help you?"

"I am here to pick up the will of Austin Burns."

"Can you specify your relation with him?"

"I am his nephew"

The woman acted professionally and Vincent answered her questions normally.

"Do you know the exact date of his passing?"

"I believe it was January 15th of the year 1613"

"Can you also elaborate why you are so late? It has been three years. Forgive me for prying but this is a necessary part of the procedure."

"Yes, I was studying in the empire and couldn't make time to come back. It is a half month long journey after all."

"Please wait for a while. I will check whom he had recorded as the recipient to his will. Also, please ready your identification documents."

Vincent waited patiently for the receptionist to return as he looked around.

'So this is where you died. I hope you didn't suffer too much.'

"Mr. Vincent Burns, am I correct?" The woman asked as she read a document in her hand.

"Yes, that is me."

"Could you hand over your identification documents please."

The woman checked the documents to see if they were authentic and handed over a sealed folder to Vincent.

Taking back his documents, he thanked the receptionist and returned to his room.