Chapter 5: Ⅴ. Desperado
Londen City's inner ring.
The Underground Bank was located beneath a gambling house.
Lending and gambling complemented each other, with zero-cost debts formed on the premise of cheating, and high-interest loans compounded over short cycles, yielding rapid results.
The only downside was that it wasn't stable enough; one needed either a powerful backer or some personal skill to consider this line of work.
An honest person trying their hand at this job might find themselves exposed to the rainy morning the very next day.
The iron gate at the entrance of the bank was violently twisted from inside out, as if someone had been desperately trying to escape.
The main hall on the first underground level.
The room was strewn with dismembered corpses, blood pooled around them, and flies had already begun to swarm, emitting a foul stench.
"Life is filled with joys and sorrows, just as oxen and horses embellish it."
Morison sat on a silk cushion in an upscale red pine chair, legs crossed, letting a survivor wipe the fresh blood off his boots.
He was about 1.8 meters tall, with curly, snake-like black hair that seemed wet, and half of his face severely burned and disfigured. To make the complicated, twisted scars on his skin appear more aesthetic, he had carved over ten diagonal, straight, and conspicuous scars with a knife, which indeed provided some semblance of symmetry.