"Achoo!"
Lin Tianheng rubbed his nose as he jumped down from the top bunk.
"Who the hell is thinking about me?"
"Lin Tianheng, Lin Tianheng." Someone poked their head out from the bunk below. "Boss just called—get ready to work!"
Lin Tianheng grunted in acknowledgment. "Where at?"
"Meet at the Rich Man's front door. Hurry up—if you're late, the boss will skin you alive."
"Oh, and Tianheng-ge." A thirteen- or fourteen-year-old boy stuck his head out from the side. "Where did you go earlier? We couldn't find you anywhere."
"What do you mean? I've been sleeping in the room the whole time."
"But..."
The boy hesitated. When he'd come into the room earlier, the bed was clearly empty, and the door hadn't opened since. Yet, a little while later, Lin Tianheng had somehow appeared in the room, as if by magic.
Strange, the boy thought, scratching his head. With his limited imagination, he couldn't figure it out no matter how hard he tried, so he decided to drop it. Just like Huang Mao—the boy who'd passed along the message—had said, for them, getting to "work" was the real priority.
Because that directly determined whether they'd have dinner tonight.
A group of kids, ranging from under ten to eighteen or nineteen, jostled their way out of the shabby little hotel they called home. The middle-aged man at the front desk glanced at them but said nothing.
With their sly faces and darting eyes, his experience told him exactly what kind of crew this was and what they meant by "work." But what did that have to do with him? As long as he collected a decent rent every month, he couldn't be bothered to meddle.
As for calling the cops—forget it. Pull up a radish and you drag up the mud. If he tried, he'd end up getting his own unlicensed little hotel shut down instead of catching anyone else. That would be a real case of shooting himself in the foot.
Shaking his head, the middle-aged man decided to pretend he hadn't seen a thing. He knew full well that these half-grown kids were mostly homeless orphans, a gang of pickpockets active in this area, brought together and looked after by this boy named Lin Tianheng.
He also knew that above these kids was a guy called "Brother Fei," who controlled several "teams" in this district. Brother Fei rarely acted himself; he'd scope out a target, then call the nearby teams to send the kids out to "work" in shifts.
As for this job's target, the "Rich Man" wasn't some wealthy household—it was a high-end club. Lin Tianheng had loitered at its entrance more than once, coldly eyeing the luxury cars and the rich, powerful men and glamorous women who stepped out of them.
"Tianheng-ge, when do we make a move?"
Beside him, Huang Mao, tasked with keeping watch, licked his dry lips. The sheer opulence of those cars was already making him antsy.
"What's the rush?" Lin Tianheng shot him a glare. Huang Mao's hair wasn't actually dyed yellow—a pickpocket's basic skill was to avoid drawing attention—but years of malnutrition had left it tangled and straw-like, a mess of yellow.
On top of that, he was missing the ring finger on his right hand, which disqualified him from taking part in the actual "action." He could only handle "grunt work" like scouting targets or keeping watch.
Too bad there wasn't any points left over this time, Lin Tianheng thought regretfully. After repairing the spirit-banishing dagger and buying some new exorcism talismans, there was nothing left.
And even if he could spare some points to exchange for cash and split it among the kids, the "higher-ups" would question where the money came from. Not only would the kids not get the cash, they might even be suspected of hiding stolen goods. In the strict hierarchy of the pickpocket gang, that was a "serious crime"—at best, they'd lose a hand or foot; at worst, they'd lose their lives.
Too bad the spirit-banishing dagger's power only worked on ghosts. In the real world, it was just an ordinary short blade. Lin Tianheng shook his head, pushing aside the tangled thoughts in his mind, and focused on the men and women coming and going at the club's entrance.
Before long, a lavishly dressed man caught his eye. The man stood tall and straight, his collar pin and the watch peeking from his sleeve hinting at a hefty fortune. A cold, aloof expression on his face betrayed a hint of pride.
He had reason to be proud, especially with the woman by his side. Despite the faint air of worldliness she couldn't quite hide, her looks and figure were rare finds, even in a place like the Rich Man.
"You go wait over there. I'll be right there." The man gave the woman's waist a gentle squeeze, then gallantly helped her into the luxury car.
"Sir, would you like a flower?"
A little girl timidly approached, holding cheap plastic flowers. The woman in the car let out a light laugh, while the impeccably dressed man, as if insulted, scowled.
"Go away, go away!" He waved his hands to shoo her off, not noticing the flicker of slyness that crossed the girl's face. Just then, another child came over and tugged at his sleeve. "Sir, I haven't eaten. Can you spare some change?"
"You little—" The word "bastard" died in his throat. As if realizing something, he stopped short, forced a sheepish grin at the woman in the car, and then irritably tried to drive the two kids away. But they seemed dead set on clinging to him, pulling at him from all sides.
The woman's smile grew wider, as if she were watching something highly amusing.
"Jiaojiao, you go on ahead..." The man, almost pleading, urged her to leave, not wanting to show his flustered side in front of her. He didn't notice the sharp glint in the woman's eyes, as beautiful and cold as a Persian cat's.
Behind the man, a boy approached silently, brushing past him as if by accident. A razor-sharp blade in his hand sliced open the pocket of the man's expensive suit.
A black wallet dropped into a waiting hand.
The woman's smile brightened. In a sweet voice, she said, "Darling, I forgot my wallet..."
"Don't worry, I've got you..." The man reached into his pocket as he spoke, then froze. His hand came straight out through the bottom of the torn pocket.
The two kids who had been pestering him were long gone. A look of dawning realization spread across the man's face.
"Damn it! Those two little bastards! I'll kill you!"
Cursing, he chased after the direction they'd disappeared, all traces of his earlier composure gone. Behind him, the woman pushed open the car door and stepped out of the luxury vehicle.
"Jiaojiao, Jiaojiao."
A girl at the Rich Man's entrance called out her name. "Why are you back?"
"Tired today. Don't feel like working." The beautiful woman replied lazily, but her gaze drifted intentionally toward the corner of the wall, where a pair of bright eyes was also hiding.
Heh, interesting...
The woman, called Jiaojiao by her friend, let out a soft laugh. She pulled out her phone from her handbag, her nails painted a vivid red, and swiped the screen open. But in an instant, her expression stiffened, then quickly returned to normal.
On her sleek phone screen, an eerie red light flickered, silently displaying an image.
The mission screen of the Strange Tales Radio Station.
Sorry, I got held up with something today. This second chapter is a bit late—please bear with me.