"Be honest, you can go back after you finish asking questions."

Drizzt knocked on the table, causing the tall and strong bartender in front of him to look fearful.

Although the bartender looked like he could beat three Drizzts by himself, he backed down in front of the muzzle of a revolver that could fire at any time.

"I shouldn't drink. I shouldn't. Since the prohibition, the bar's business has plummeted. Damn it, this is so funny. It's a bar but I can't sell alcohol. I can only sell those... those drinks that only women drink. Fuck me!"

The sturdy bartender started swearing as he spoke, with honey on his lips.

"Sometimes I drink a little secretly, really, by myself. That day I drank a little and felt very hot, so I wanted to go out for some fresh air. I walked to the street. Hey, the air in the black street is so fucking stinky. I almost vomited when I smelled it."

"I wanted to go to the river, but then I thought about the wastewater from the fucking factories there, so I changed direction. The black street was really fucking dark at night. I was drunk at the time, and after walking two steps, I saw a woman standing on the side of the road. This must be a fucking street prostitute!"

"I was drunk and wanted to have some fun, but when I walked over to the woman, I saw her face was so fucking horrible, a mess of mud and pits. I was so scared that I stepped back and fell off the stairs and broke my leg."

He patted his leg in a cast.

"Woman? You mean the urban legend of the underworld?"

Lu Ban asked.

"I'm not sure, but the woman's face was as gooey as mud, with bubbles coming out of it. It was dark at the time, so I didn't see it carefully."

There was fear in the bartender's eyes.

"What about when you were seeing Dr. House?"

Shia asked.

"Dr. House is a damn good man. He often treats people like us who live on the black street for very little money. If the children are sick, he will give them some medicine for free."

When the bartender mentioned Dr. House, his speech became a little more polite.

"He checked my wound, treated it and bandaged it. He also told me to change the dressing in two days. I didn't expect..."

Trist asked the bartender some more details about the treatment, which basically matched the description in the medical records.

In fact, neither he nor the worker were strong suspects, because after the two of them, Dr. House met with the medical supplier, and judging from the testimony, Dr. House was clearly still alive at the time.

So, Trist asked these two people to collect evidence, mainly because he wanted to know when the woman entered the clinic and whether there were other people around her when she came to the clinic.

"By the way, when you were in the clinic, did you hear other people's voices or see other people?"

Hearing Drizzt's question, the bartender denied it without hesitation.

"You said Dr. House would give those children medicine for free. Has he ever treated a girl about this tall? She must have a relative who was seriously ill."

Drizzt asked again.

In the dream, the girl did mention healing, but I don’t know if it was related to Dr. House.

"It's too damn hard to find someone like your description. There are too many people like that in the black street. If you want to find a woman, you can go to the Red Dance Hall. Almost all the women in the black street are there."

The bartender said.

The Red Ballroom is not a dance hall, but a gathering place for call girls.

"I understand. Drink less."

Drizzt reminded.

They came to the factory again.

"Ahem, my body has been acting up a lot lately. I hope you don't mind. Ahem."

The worker was not young either, with some white hair. If he had children, they would probably be in their teens.

"The environment here at the factory is terrible, and many people are sick, but what can we do? We no longer have any land, and if we don't work we'll starve to death. Cough cough cough. Fortunately, Dr. House prescribed medicine for us. He's such a good man, and many of us here have been taken care of by him. Alas... cough cough cough."

The worker kept coughing, sometimes so loudly that tears came out.

In the workshop not far away, the sound of coughing could be heard one after another through the masks. These people's masks had been used for a long time. When they got dirty, they would wash them with river water. The water in the river was mostly waste water mixed with some unpleasant smells.

“What do you produce in your factories?”

Drizzt asked, noting that the worker's clothes had no traces of paint or coating.

"It's feed, feed for livestock. It's made from grass clippings, sawdust, and something we don't know. This job is actually not bad, because if you're really hungry, you can steal some feed and no one will find out."

The worker pursed his lips and revealed a simple smile.

Xia remained silent. She felt a little shocked.

For the Kingdom of Night, which is still in the agricultural civilization, the bloodiness and darkness caused by this capital expansion are beyond imagination. In the agricultural era, many people would not have thought that someone would be so cruel to his compatriots and would sit down to negotiate business with his enemies.

As for Lu Ban, he had seen a lot. Although the sheep-eating-people movement had not been launched in the abandoned city, the expansion of capital was even more serious in this resource-poor city, and the civilians didn't even have a chance to turn the tables.

"Have you ever seen a girl, about this tall, with a sick relative?"

Drizzt asked again.

The worker shook his head and spoke again.

"I had a daughter who was this tall, but she had no food to eat and died of starvation."

He said it calmly, as if he were saying that he would steal feed for livestock on the production line.

Or rather, he was numb, and the ups and downs of life could no longer touch his heart.

Leaving the factory, Xia felt deeply shocked.

"I've seen crazy, horrible monsters, and I've seen people being tortured, but these... they're just alive, but they give me a weirder feeling."

As she spoke, even the chicken legs that might have been for dinner didn't taste as good anymore.

"Maybe Dr. House did something, but at least he is a good man in the eyes of the black street."

Trist sighed, thinking that there might never be a doctor to deliver medicine to them and treat their illnesses again.

"There is another thing. The worker just now did not have any paint or coating on his body. I looked around his factory and did not see anything similar. The workers' clothes did not have such stains either. This means that the paint on Dr. House and the woman did not come from this worker."

As he spoke, he pointed to a road ahead.

"Let's go to the Red Dance Hall and investigate the identity of the call girl."