After reaching his apartment without any interruptions, he took a shower, ate the leftover food from the morning, and as the sun hid itself and darkness covered the island, he changed into his all-black outfit.
Then, he left his apartment and caught a taxi.
About twenty minutes later, the taxi stopped. He paid the driver in cash and strolled down the streets until he saw the left turn ahead.
He switched back to a normal pace and turned left.
"I didn't think that girl would be useful. Verta... was it? I'm sure I've heard that name before, but I'm not sure when or where."
"The numbers on Baldy's place were very easy to decode when I got the right keywords. I just adjusted the numerical order with the help of Verta, deducing the right numbers and positioning them. After that, it was just turning numbers into letters—a simple Nihilistic cipher code."
"But not every normal individual in the city knows about this. That's what's clicking for me, don't you think too? Something's happening in the city. I can sense it. I don't know if it's the High Table or someone else. I just need to know who would go this far to hide some simple message."
"That's why I'm here—Drayden Streets, or should I say... Verta?"
Paul usually didn't go out much, mostly just for work. But after looking at the map, he could recall the right alleys and turns. He had some basic knowledge of the area and its people.
His mind was on one thing: getting what he needed.
The alley he turned into was dark but wide enough for at least three people to walk side by side. In just a few steps, he reached the end, turning left and walking a few more meters before turning right.
After about six or seven steps, he noticed faint yellow lights and the distant sounds of people. He walked toward the destination he had in mind when he first exited his apartment.
He gradually slowed his pace. To his right was another dark alley that likely connected to the main street. He glanced slightly out of the corner of his eyes and continued walking forward, slightly to the left.
As he walked by, a few people were sitting there in tattered clothes on cardboard sheets, surrounding the fire, warming themselves while chatting about their lives to pass the time.
They glanced at him but didn't pay much attention; a random teen showing up likely wasn't a big deal to them.
With one look, Paul could see there were about seventeen or eighteen people in sight, including himself. Also, it was too dark ahead to tell if anyone was sleeping up ahead.
The people here are all tramps or homeless individuals, simply looking for a place to spend the night. As soon as the sun rises, they leave and either collect trash or sit on the streets to make some money.
There are a total of three groups gathered around the fire.
Paul walked towards the right side of one group, consisting of four men who seemed to be in their early to mid-twenties. They were sitting next to the pillar supporting the overpass above.
Occasionally, the sounds of cars, buses, or heavy vehicles could be heard, but it wasn't too loud.
They were burning tires to keep the fire up.
Paul approached them and undid his hood, trying to appear as friendly as possible. They were sitting on small boulders or bricks.
He looked to his left and right and found half a brick. He placed it beside one of the men and sat down without speaking, as if he were already one of them.
They had already noticed him but didn't mind anything. Some random teen coming here wasn't anything new to them, and they also knew the reason why people came here.
"Yo! I almost got pinched by that bitch cop."
"For real, if it weren't for those dumb assholes, we'd be busting our asses behind bars."
"Hey! John! Who the hell are you yapping with, getting all amped up?"
"Ahh... me? You motherfuckers aren't going to believe it, just look."
"Bullshit... Haha, this is Snake's alt... Haha haaa."
He was just listening to their baseless chatter without speaking. Until the man sitting to his left tapped his shoulder slightly, looking in his direction.
He said in a slightly hard and mocking tone, trying to pressure Paul, "Haven't seen you around here, kid. What do you need?"
The other three went silent, stopping their chatter and looking out of the corner of their eyes.
Paul didn't even flinch, not even slightly, and replied casually, "Looking for some stuff. Heard I'd find it here."
The guy nodded very slightly, still staring down at Paul, and kept his tone steady. He asked, "Which one? 30, 50, or 100?"
Paul replied calmly, "I ain't here for green. I'm asking for white."
After listening to what Paul said, all four of the guys' eyes lit up with greed and lust. Paul could clearly see that.
The man's tone changed from mockery to curiosity and greed. "Haha, but you got the cash, right?"
"Of course," Paul shot back, obviously. Why would he be here without cash on him?
The guy asked, now a bit softer, "How much are you looking for exactly?"
Paul stood up slowly and replied, "Are you interviewing me or what? I'll tell you everything on the way; of course, there's a line for you too."
Guy slowly stood up, stretched his hands slightly, and thought, "This kid sure knows his stuff well, but just one…" before replying, "We'll talk lines and that shit later."
He looked at his group and said, "Looks like I've got to go, my niggas. See you gays in another light."
And he walked away with Paul.
As they both walked out from under the overpass, Guy asked. He was probably around twenty-five, with medium-length black hair mixed with light brown. Black eyes, a small beard growing around his face, his mustache visible, and white skin.
His face had little rough marks, and one thing to notice was that, right on his forehead above his left eyebrow, there was an 'X' design black tattoo bound with chains.
He was wearing a dark blue t-shirt with some animated design on it, underneath a black leather jacket, and blue jeans, with both hands in his jacket's pockets.
"So, where do you come from? Of course, if you want to keep your privacy, that's okay with me. Anyway, I'm Roxy."
Paul thought it's better to give some info about himself because he had to come here like this again and had to interact with them.
He kept it short and replied, "Gumla, a week ago. My place is in Brighton. Someone from my school told me about this place. And I'm Paul."
"School?" Roxy wondered.
"Saint Anthony's," Paul said quickly.
"Saint Anthony's, Saint Anthony's ohh... I remember, probably that kid told you about this place," Roxy said while rubbing his head with his right-hand fingers.
"Yeah, probably..." Paul replied faintly. He had no idea which guy Roxy was talking about.
"If you get yourself into any trouble, just let me know, alright?" Roxy said, puffing his chest slightly, trying to flex some empty confidence.
Paul gave a small nod.
After six or seven minutes of walking, turning left and right, they were close to their destination.
On the way, Paul attempted to turn on the flash of his phone since it was really dark; one could barely see the walls beside them.
However, Roxy told him to turn it off. Without questioning him, Paul complied and switched off the flash.
Roxy then said to him, "If you have trouble walking, then you can walk behind me."
Paul did what Roxy said, following him closely, walking just behind him.
Eventually, Roxy turned right and disappeared from view. Paul picked up his pace, turned in the same direction, and saw Roxy a few steps ahead.
He caught up to him at a normal pace; Roxy glanced back and suggested, "Wait here for a sec; I'll call the keeper."
Paul nodded knowingly as Roxy turned and went to call the keeper."
With nothing else to do, Paul scanned the area around. He noticed two connected houses, or something like that, both featuring a single small window and a locked wooden door.
Shifting his gaze to the left, he saw only a wall and a streetlight pole, with wires running overhead. The road in front of him was wider than the alleys he'd just walked through, wide enough for two motorcycles to fit side by side.
While the way ahead likely led to the main streets, he thought, as he recalled the map.
Paul's gaze was once again locked on Roxy as he approached the house.
Roxy was knocking softly on the window, carefully glancing left, right, and occasionally back at Paul. He could barely hear the tapping.
He wondered if it might be some sort of secret signal, but quickly brushed that idea aside.
"Nah, I'm just overthinking this."