65 -65- Good afternoon

Linwin walked along the alley until he almost reached the end before stopping.

Upon hearing the commotion from around the corner of the alley, Linwin pressed against the wall, closed his eyes, and listened intently.

After standing there for a good three minutes without being noticed, Linwin shook his head in self-amusement and chuckled.

It's been a long time since he did something like this. The last time he engaged in such activities was when he was called the "undercity enforcer" in Zaun.

Now, is Linwin going back to his old ways?

Traditional skills are indeed invaluable.

But to be honest, the quality of these thugs is noticeably lower, nothing compared to the folks in Zaun.

Although they are just street thugs, the people in Zaun, for the most part, have put life and death aside.

With a gentle press of his hands downward, accompanied by a breeze rising from under his feet, Linwin's body slowly floated up. He then effortlessly drifted into the air, concealing his presence, and flew into the alley.

Inside the alley....

A group of local Bel'zhun sand dwellers, along with a seemingly tough group of outsiders, sat huddled together on a large piece of tattered cloth. Sitting in the middle, hands swiftly moving over the cards, was a thin and weak-looking young man, appearing honest and simple on the surface but with a sly glint in his eyes.

"Come, come, you can now bet big or small! My friends, as long as you win, you won't have to scavenge the dangerous desert for days. And if you lose, you can always borrow money to continue, after all, I believe there will be a moment when the goddess of luck will favor you, right?!"

Nearby, a stout and stocky figure displayed various items recently collected, belongings of the scavengers gambling on the cloth.

"My friends, we accept various currencies—whether it's Noxian coins, Piltover's currency, or your currency from Shurima, we take them all. But if you have items, you can sell them to us at a fair price!"

"Billgewater folks don't deceive people. Deception is shameful, and as Billgewater residents from a powerful maritime nation, deceiving is considered a crime punishable by beheading!"

The stout man continued, "And of course, Billgewater has its own currency. Look, this is the golden Kraken coin, this is the silver Serpent coin, and here is a copper Herring coin."

"You can rest assured that Billgewater money is universally accepted worldwide. Do you know Noxus? Even they use our money!"

The stout man shouted with enthusiasm, spitting saliva as he emphasized his point.

It's evident that this is a small gambling den established in the Bel'zhun market.

But in Bel'zhun, it's not an unusual occurrence.

After all, Bel'zhun is a poor place, and consequently, the local gangs have only a few ways to make a profit. They either rely on theft and robbery or establish small gambling spots, taverns, or brothels using women taken by force.

The reason for such customs is likely related to the fact that the local scavengers in Shurima are always living on the edge, dealing with life-threatening situations. Most scavengers live day by day, so living each day is already a victory. 

Therefore, seeking excitement to make life more interesting becomes essential for them.

Gambling and pleasure serve as the best means of excitement for scavengers.

Not far from this small gambling spot, a medium-sized tent is set up.

Inside the tent, two young men are having a conversation.

"Tobias, I think we should take action. You've been observing for too many days, and we can't delay any longer."

"Please call me Twisted. Never use my other name outside."

"I get it, Tobias. But did you listen to what I said? You've been observing for too many days, and those guys have noticed our movements. If we don't act now, it might be too late once they become cautious!"

"I said, call me Twisted." 

Helplessly, Twisted said to the strong man in front of him. Twisted leaned back in a reclining chair, exerting force on his toes, gradually tilting backward. With a faint smile on his face, he softly said, "As for what you mentioned about being cautious, they've been wary of us for a long time."

"What do you mean? Are you saying they already know we're planning to steal from them?"

"No, I don't know about that." Twisted extended his hand, and with a slight movement of his slender fingers, a card the size of an adult's palm was caught between his index and middle fingers. 

"Swoosh!" 

He flipped his wrist, and the card kept spinning, adhering to his palm.

"In the eyes of the Fogs, we're just a gang of bandits without much vision, a bunch of fools who are used to robbing at sea and still think highly of themselves on land."

"Can't you speak normally? Why are you always so mysterious? Can't you straighten out that broken tongue of yours?"

Tristan sighed and said to the man in front of him, "Graves, I really hope you can use your brain. Do you really think those Noxians don't care about the Fogs? They are well aware of it."

Graves puffed up his big mustache, holding a gun like a goofy guy, and continued, "If you say they're on good terms with the Noxians, why don't they seek help from those officers? If they step in, won't we just have to run away immediately?"

"Because of money, my friend. Seeking help from the Noxian officers comes at a cost far exceeding what they would need to deal with the 'consequences' we might bring. Noxians are greedier than us, you know that." Twisted smiled and said.

"So, what should we do next? I don't understand much about this, so I'll follow your lead." 

The not-so-bright big-bearded man, Graves, sat on the ground with crossed legs, holding his double barrel gun, and loudly declared, "We've always done things this way, right?"

"Yes, brother, just like always."

Twisted nodded and then picked up a wine glass from the nearby wooden table. After taking a sip, he looked at Graves and continued, "This time, if we can really steal those materials and take away those Hextech phones, Graves, I think we won't need to come out for at least two years."

"Are those things really that valuable?"

Until now, Graves had no idea what was so good about those small boxes.

"Of course, those are Hextech phones. Even that Plank has been wanting one for a long time."

Graves nodded in confusion.

Anyway, the two of them had always been like this. Whatever his brother said, he would follow suit.

"However."

Twisted looked up at the outside of the tent.

"It seems we have new friends."

Understanding Twisted's meaning after cooperating for many years, Graves, holding his gun, immediately started cursing as he was about to step out of the tent. "Who the fuck dares to cause trouble on my turf?"

But as he lifted the tent with the gun barrel, he let out a miserable cry of "Woahh!" and was sent flying.

"What the fu...?"

Graves, still a bit dizzy, cursed while lying on the ground. Twisted was nearby, having dodged the commotion.

The corner of the tent was lifted, revealing a handsome young man with black hair. With a wry smile, he looked at Twisted and Graves.

He spoke, "Good afternoon, gentlemen. I'm Linwin, the leader of the Fog organization."