When something that was not noticed is pulled up by some clue, it will be as out of control as water gushing out of a broken hose from a faucet.

He had already known that the fact that some Slots had included many neighborhoods in the Old Town into their "sphere of influence" and squeezed "protection money" from the inhabitants of those streets was no longer a secret in the intelligence network of the Mercenary Administration.

But they also have no way to act.

This is different from the excuses that the garrison cannot be dispatched without evidence, or that there is no way to carry out an investigation due to pressure from some quarters. The reason for the mercenary management office is quite straightforward - without receiving the commission, the mercenary's employment contract cannot be established, and there is no way to dispatch.

It is conceivable that such a predicament will arise, and the residents who are oppressed by these groups are those who are powerless and powerless. Even if they had asked for help from the Mercenary Administration, and the mercenaries did, they would have been able to drive the Slots away for a while.

Such an act is pointless.

Rather than being able to find peace for a while, these residents are probably thinking more about what to do if they are faced with retaliation by these groups that possess dangerous goods. Everyone has weaknesses, let alone those who have little to no ability to protect themselves.

The Mercenary Administration, no matter how powerful it is, is unable to protect these civilians around the clock - and they do not have the right to do so. On the other hand, it was the garrison that was supposed to enforce this right that did not intervene for a long time, so that this behavior gradually deepened to the extent that it is today.

Furthermore, if you want to expel all these gangsters, it is estimated that even the city government of Cutrice does not have the ability to do so. The "Gluttonous Beast" standing behind them, although it usually doesn't care about the life or death of these little thugs, will definitely not sit idly by at that time.

For a number of reasons, this is not an easy problem to solve. Freezing three feet is not a day's cold, and the darkness that entrenches in the Catrice does not appear overnight. They were born out of the scourge of war and have spread to the present day as the Blocks of Chaos, which have gradually become one with the city.

Maybe it's because they know their position, and those gangsters are still restricting their behavior even though they are doing nonsense. They will squeeze the money of the residents, but they will limit the amount to the amount that will not destroy their lives, and they will run rampant in the neighborhood, but they will be careful not to leave evidence.

They are like parasites on these civilians, ingesting the blood and flesh of their hosts in non-lethal quantities, leaving them weak and destitute.

Curt and Rebecca had known each other for almost a year, and had asked her several times before that, but had not heard anything about the group. Maybe it's because these things have long been a part of their lives, and they are really not new.

Had it not been for Cruise François's commission, Curt would have been reluctant to get too involved in the subject. However, because Rebecca said that a new group emerged in the midst of the gangsters' chatter who wanted to get their hands on their turf, Curt suddenly became more interested in the topic.

Curt thought silently for a while, and suddenly drank the water in the vegetation in front of him, the water that had begun to cool was warm, and the taste was not quite right.

"Miss Rebecca, could you please elaborate on this section?" Curt continued, unconcerned, despite Rebecca's puzzled look, "whether it's the gangsters, or the newcomers, or the injured among them—it's best to tell me all about what you know." ”

Rebecca slowly looked up at Curt with a puzzled look in her eyes: "Hmm...... Actually, I've heard them talk about it, so I can't be particularly clear. This should have started in the last few months, and the timing is not allowed, but it is usually concentrated in the late night to early morning, and the thugs in the small group of Slote are always targeted by some guys in strange clothes. ”

As she spoke, she frowned, as if trying to recall memories of these things.

"I've heard that those who attack are not targeting a single member, let alone a lone thug. As if on purpose, they always kept an eye on the time when the small Slots would gather to attack their strongholds. ”

They acted as if they were about to wipe out a group in one fell swoop - Rebecca was hesitant to say these things without knowing what was going on.

Initially, when the first stronghold was attacked, the Slots had already spoken out of their fears, believing that the inhabitants had organized themselves into a street vigilante group. They simply told the residents of the situation and announced their imminent reprisals.

But while the inhabitants were discussing countermeasures in fear, they did not expect that the Slots' revenge would be stillborn before it could be carried out. While a Slote group gathered in their stronghold to discuss ways to retaliate, they were attacked again by their previous attackers.

Compared to the first stronghold where they were attacked by masked men of unknown origin in their sleep, the group's fate was much worse. When all of their members gathered in the colony hall for a meeting, no one expected a sudden explosion in the meeting room.

"Seriously, that's an exaggeration, those bastards are close to Warehouse Street, but I can hear explosions even where I am. And I heard from my friends who worked as nurses in nearby hospitals that their injuries ranged from several, but the lightest one also broke a few bones. ”

Rebecca sighed and said with a slightly exaggerated expression, "I really don't know what the person who caused the explosion was thinking, if it didn't work, it would be dead." We're hot and disgusted with the Slots, but we're not going to tear them apart with an explosion......"

Curt was supposed to be on a mission in the suburbs at the time, so he didn't know about the incident. The official explanation is that these gangsters are fiddling with irregular flammable and explosive products, and finally operate them improperly and reap the consequences. But now listening to Rebecca, it seems that this is not the case.

It was only after this attack that the newcomer officially declared war on the Slots. They must have deliberately left something behind at the scene, and from that day on, the Slotters have been patrolling the streets in search of the new forces they call "blue-eyed bastards".

"But they searched for so long, but they never found any reason, but the attacks on them never stopped. The last attack was last week...... Since then, the Slots have been killed by them several times. ”

After thinking about it, a glimmer suddenly flashed in Curt's eyes: "Wait, Miss Rebecca, what you just said...... Born in the battle between the Slots and the group of unknown origins, they are dead so far, no, it should be, those people have killed several Slots unilaterally, right?"

He sensed something wasn't quite right.

"Isn't that strange? Hundreds of thugs are killed in this city every year for various reasons, and the garrison doesn't bother to care about the feuds between these immigrant thugs, and only the unpopular newspaper will let the reporters investigate the thugs and killings......

After a slight pause, he looked at Rebecca and said, "The fight between them has been going on for so long that even the explosion has been played - despite this, you say that only a few people died." Who are those who died, and is there anything different about them?"

The average person may not have noticed that even if they are gangsters, there are reasons to kill people - of course, these so-called reasons are usually just some boring quarrels in the streets. And now, in order to grab the territory, those groups that use the "blue eyes" as a symbol have even blasted each other's strongholds with great fanfare, but only a few people have died, which seems to be a little wrong.

Rebecca's gaze wandered in the void, and then looked at Curt, "Explain in advance, I've only heard about it, it's better not to take this seriously......"

After saying these words, Rebecca's face turned a little wrong.

"I really just heard about it,......" she subconsciously emphasized that she was not sure, and her tone was fluttering, "I heard that there were several times when a few thugs were killed in a very cruel way at the scene of the attack, just like killing a fish, and even the internal organs were squeezed out......"

Curt immediately understood the reason for her worsening complexion. For any ordinary person, when he hears that someone has been killed by the method of "even the internal organs have been squeezed out", the first thing he feels is that he is either unbelievable, or he is uncomfortable because of the image in his mind.

But in addition to some strangely shaped corpses he had seen, Curt's mind also saw the dead body of the unidentified middle-aged man who appeared on the highway at that time. Does he have anything to do with these "gutted" thugs...... Curt doesn't know for sure yet, but for some reason, Curt always feels that those thugs didn't just die so miserably because of the "turf grab".

"That's it for today, I'll take my leave today, and I'll probably visit again in a few days. Curt pulled a few more bills out of his pocket and handed them to Rebecca, then stood up and said to her, "Miss Rebecca, I want you to help me gather more information about Slote and the group." ”

Seeing Rebecca's tired look, Curt decided to put the problem aside for the time being. The clues she provided may need to be further integrated, and while some of them are true, there are certainly others that have already been overly distorted in the process of transmission, and need to be screened before they can be used.

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