??Chapter 220: 219. You are really a good person_1
Chapter 220: 219. You are really a good person_1
In the affordable restaurant near the Trieste Detective Agency.
These restaurants were actually in an awkward position because the truly poor, those whose earnings barely sufficed for subsistence, wouldn’t dine out at such places.
And the wealthy wouldn’t deign to patronize a restaurant of this caliber.
It was only people like Trieste, who fell between the rich and the poor, that frequented these establishnts to solve the problem of an empty stomach.
There was sothing about the place that felt like standing while drinking, yet wearing a gown.
“The taste is quite alright, actually.”
In front of Lu Ban was a large bowl of plain noodles, with very little minced at and a scant few droplets of oil, priced at ten yuan. According to Trieste, a common rickshaw puller who worked the whole day could earn fifty yuan, which indeed made this al unaffordable for them.
“So delicious!”
In front of Shia was the sa dish, which she devoured much faster than Lu Ban, who had only finished about half when she even finished the soup.
“Mr. Trieste, you really are a good person,”
Shia earnestly thanked him.
“It’s nothing, really.”
Trieste laughed it off, shifting his body slightly to block the restaurant’s price list, and stealthily hid the nu on the table next to them.
Intuition told Trieste that it was probably best not to tell them this was the cheapest item here.
“Wait a second, I’m a bit curious, these noodles are made of wheat, right?”
Lu Ban slurped his noodles, suddenly feeling a bit of PTSD about bugs.
“What else?”
Trieste didn’t understand why he would ask.
“Even if it were bugs, as tasty as this, it shouldn’t really matter, right?”
Shia chid in from the side.
“Bugs?”
Trieste looked at the young girl beside him, feeling that her life must be quite hard.
After finishing the noodles, Lu Ban felt very content; he was a man who was happy with what he had.
“Shall we go to the publishing house next?”
Trieste asked again.
“No problem!”
The publishing house was also in the fourth ring, on the other side of the city.
“It’s the sa fourth ring, but there are differences between the areas. The place where I live is mid-tier in the fourth ring, and the eastern side of the fourth ring is known for the worst security, having the headquarters of a gang. The location of the publishing house is the best in the fourth ring,”
Trieste explained.
“Then why doesn’t the publishing house just relocate to the wealthy third ring?”
Shia asked curiously.
“Because not everyone at the publishing house is wealthy. Those responsible for distributing newspapers, the janitors, printers, they’re all common people. So editors also co from outside the fourth ring, mainly for work,”
Trieste explained as if it were obvious.
“What about the servants of those wealthy families?”
Lu Ban curiously asked.
“They all live in the hos of the wealthy, seldom returning to their own hos even once a year. Heh, to tell you the truth, so servants have already co to see themselves as people of the third ring, looking down on those who live outside. But who knows, if they make a mistake, they might be beaten and thrown into the wilderness to feed the monsters,”
Trieste said with a sigh.
The wealth disparity in Abandoned Capital had starkly defined layers, each social stratum was present, yet they were all incredibly fixed, with class mobility being a rare occurrence. After all, those living in the tenth ring couldn’t even afford books, were illiterate, and had no way to lift themselves up from nothing.
The trio quickly arrived at the publishing house.
This building was quite impressive in the fourth ring, but with not many visitors. Walking into the lobby, Trieste saw a woman at the front desk wearing a qipao and reading a newspaper. He greeted her.
“I’m here to see Editor Qian.”
“Did you make an appointnt beforehand?”
The woman had obviously seen Tryst before, her tone was sowhat arrogant, and her gaze lingered on Tryst for only a mont, then paused for a second on Shia’s face, before finally settling on Lu Ban’s face.
“Cough cough, I’ll contact Editor Qian for you.”
She picked up the phone, dialed the rotary, and called upstairs.
After a while, the receptionist smiled.
“Please go upstairs, the editorial departnt is on the third floor.”
In the end, she took another look at Lu Ban, with a feeling like a dog that hadn’t eaten for days seeing a bone, and Lu Ban felt that a “danger” sign might appear above his head.
Climbing the stairs to the third floor, the place seed a bit noisy.
All kinds of magazines, books, and newspapers were piled up, each person’s desk was overflowing, blocking the view.
But as they walked by, they only saw the editors perusing racy magazines, not looking like they were working.
“Lao Qian.”
Tryst ca to a desk and knocked on it.
The editor, who had been reading a novel, looked up, still sowhat dazed.
“Old Tryst, so, you’ve agreed to do
this favor?”
Standing up, he put the book down, and Lu Ban saw that it was a novel called “Village of the Rat People,” also written by Ancient Capital.
The editor was of dium build, wore glasses, and looked sowhat greasy.
“Yes, my assistants and I are prepared to take on your commission and search for him.”
Tryst spoke unhurriedly.
“Shh, co with .”
Editor Qian led the three of them to a small eting room, which seed to be a place where editors generally communicated with authors. He went out to get so files, ca back, closed the door, made sure it was secure, and then began to speak.
“This matter is very important to us, Old Tryst, Ancient Capital’s new book is sure to be a bestseller, which will take our publishing house’s revenue to the next level, but why did he disappear…”
Editor Qian spoke anxiously.
“I know, he often mingles with won, and I’m well aware that this would cause trouble, but why now? Sigh, Old Tryst, you must help , help the publishing house, as long as we can find the rest of the manuscript, it doesn’t matter if Ancient Capital is missing an arm or a leg, even if he’s dead, it doesn’t matter, as long as we can get back the rest of the draft.”
Shia frowned slightly and asked a question.
“You don’t care about his well-being, just the remaining original drafts of the novel?”
“No, no no, of course, I care, if he hasn’t finished the novel, even if he breathes his last breath, I’d have to bring him back to life, I do care about him.”
Editor Qian’s expression inexplicably turned sowhat ferocious.
Tryst gestured with his eyes, preventing Shia from continuing to dwell on the issue, and instead pressed on.
“Lao Qian, could we take a look at the draft of the novel? Since it might be related to his disappearance, I think the content of his draft may hold clues.”
Upon hearing Tryst’s words, Editor Qian suddenly beca alert, fearing that these three might be spies from other publishing houses, attempting to pry into the secrets of Ancient Capital’s new work.
After all, novels, especially horror novels, often hinged on creativity, and if the idea got stolen by soone else first, then the story would lose its freshness. Ancient Capital’s strength lay in his creativity; he always managed to concoct a story that stood out from the rest.
He stared at Tryst for a long mont before slowly speaking.
“Wait here for .”
He went out again and brought back a stack of manuscript pages.
“You can only read it here.”
Editor Qian said.
The three of them took the manuscript pages, and Lu Ban imdiately saw that the title of this unfinished novel was “The Madman’s Mouth.”
The story began with the disappearance of a novelist.
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