Just like that, Jeanne and Rope stood to the side, quietly watching these "Mickey Mouses" in black suits clean up the battlefield. Their movements were so practiced they could have done it with their eyes closed.
They used something resembling straitjackets to bind the few survivors tightly, then stashed them along with the corpses into the Lungmen sewers to await transport. Afterward, they began sanitizing the area; using Originium Arts, they scrubbed away the bloodstains and filled in the massive craters Jeanne had smashed into the ground. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
It was clear they were a team specialized in handling such matters, specifically to ensure the L.G.D. wouldn't discover what had transpired.
Beside them, Rope was as well-behaved as a frightened rabbit, standing silently by Jeanne's side, unsure of what to do. The appearance of these mobsters had left her completely at a loss. These people were the true administrators of the slums! Since they had offended them this time, would they come back for revenge later? As someone living in the slums, Rope felt she had no power to resist their retribution.
"What should I do? If there's really no other way, maybe I should just let Jeanne turn me in to the L.G.D... those people wouldn't be bold enough to storm the police station directly."
Rope pondered her future, feeling as though the light had vanished from her life. Thinking of how these people usually operated, she felt a sudden urge to leave Lungmen for another city. She was not in the same league as them; she was just a small-time thief, while the other side was the shadow syndicate that had controlled the Lungmen slums for years. Even her ears drooped in despair.
While Rope was lost in her anxiety, the men had finished cleaning the area, restoring it to exactly how it looked before the two gangs started their war. Once everything settled, the leader pulled a phone from his pocket and made a call—likely reporting the situation to his superior.
"Hello, do you have a moment? We would like to learn some specific details about what just happened from you."
The man walked over to Jeanne and her companion, inquiring very respectfully. It seemed these mobsters took the matter quite seriously; not only did they clean the scene, but they also wanted to investigate the details.
"We were just trying to pass through this road and ran into these groups facing off. We planned to wait for them to finish before leaving, but then that sudden mutation occurred..."
Just as Jeanne was giving them a rough sketch of the events, the hurried sound of sirens echoed from behind. The L.G.D. had received a report and was arriving on the scene.
"Looking at this, it's unrealistic to continue talking here. This paper has the address of our group's leader written on it. According to his instructions: if someone calls the police and brings the L.G.D. here, I am to give this to you. He hopes to meet with you when you have the time."
The leader, a grey Zalak, handed a slip of paper to Jeanne. After expressing his leader's desire for a meeting, he led his subordinates into the Lungmen sewers and vanished. It was best for them not to be seen by the L.G.D.; given the relationship between the two sides, any encounter would be awkward and likely lead to conflict.
As for Jeanne? At most, she would be taken back for questioning. The L.G.D. officers wouldn't make things difficult for a random passerby. This was much easier than being associated with the mob.
Still, is it really appropriate for you to go into the sewers while wearing suits? Won't you get your clothes dirty? Don't you guys have secret passages or something?
Jeanne didn't dwell on it. She grabbed Rope and fled the scene. However, the problem remained her running speed—it was a force not easily endured by ordinary people. Even though Jeanne intentionally slowed down, Rope's face looked terrible. It was a miracle she managed not to vomit along the way.
Five minutes after Jeanne left, the L.G.D. members finally arrived at the scene at top speed. However, as they looked at the street—which was so clean and tidy it hardly looked like the slums—they began to wonder if someone had made a false report.
"Madam Shi[1], that's the situation. Forget the dead bodies mentioned in the report; we haven't even seen a living person! We should consider if someone is trying to make a move against the L.G.D. again and purposefully lured us out..."
To one side, an officer was reporting to Swire, who had just stepped out of her car. The scene was exactly as he described; there was no sign of a gang brawl or fatalities. Recalling how important leads had been silenced in the past and how the enemy had entered the L.G.D. as if it were a no-man's land, he felt compelled to remind her of the possibility of a trap.
"How many times do I have to say it? Call me Officer Swire, or just Swire! What on earth is 'Madam Shi'!"
Swire was helpless against the way her subordinates inadvertently addressed her. The habit of adding "sir" to her surname—which sounds like 'Shi'—was so common that everyone called her "Shi-sir" or "Madam Shi." But her surname isn't 'Shi'; Swire is her surname! Ever since that name was coined, it had become the Pink Sausage Dragon's favorite nickname for her, leading everyone else astray.
"There's no need to worry about the L.G.D. headquarters for now. Since the last incident, we've overhauled our security, and Hoshiguma is staying behind with a portion of the elite forces."
Swire comforted her subordinate while walking onto the street to observe carefully. She knew the report was fishy, but it certainly wasn't without merit.
"Hmm? What's that smell?"
Swire twitched her nose, breathing in the air. A very faint scent permeated the surroundings. Had it not been for her sensitive sense of smell and years of police training, she might have missed this incredibly inconspicuous odor.
"A smell? I'm sorry, I really didn't smell anything. Could it be the scent of some low-quality cosmetics? That's not rare in the slums."
The officer beside her also sniffed hard, but he didn't catch the strange scent Swire mentioned; only the smell of rotting wood filled his nose. That smell was clearly not what Swire was talking about, as rotting wood was everywhere in the slums and far too common.
"No, this is very likely the smell of blood. It's just that someone intentionally eliminated it. What's left is incredibly faint..."
Swire sniffed the air, which was now almost devoid of any metallic tang. Relying on years of experience, she deduced it was the scent of human blood! It seemed a brawl had definitely occurred here.
"Report, Officer Swire! We've discovered a strange phenomenon in the alley over there! Please come and take a look at the scene."
At that moment, an operator ran over to report their discovery. He led Swire to the alley where Jeanne had been staying, where a group of people was already investigating. The officer pointed out the restored pavement to Swire. Although the craters had been filled, the color of the road surface was still slightly different from the surrounding area.
Then, the officer handed Swire a sealed, broken fingernail. The blood on it hadn't fully solidified yet; it was clearly a section snapped off by a violent impact.
"This fingernail was found in a crack in the wall. The crack was very inconspicuous; if we hadn't double-checked the surroundings, we might have overlooked it."
"It seems the so-called battle really did happen. It's just that a third-party force intervened. They cleaned up the scene with extreme speed and then withdrew quickly."
As she spoke, Swire looked at a manhole cover. She was quite certain the suspects had left through the sewers. And given that method, it was most likely them.
"Search the area thoroughly again. See if there are any other clues in the corners. I'm going to step out and make a phone call; if anything urgent comes up, just call me."
[1] A nickname from the CN community.