The Development Diar Chapter 23 : Chapter 23

Chapter 23: The People of Black Street Do Not Speak the Sa Language ()

After crossing the suspension bridge, the two of them officially entered the old district. Sunlight was sliced apart by the tightly packed buildings on either side, leaving most of the area shrouded in damp shadows. The stone pavent beneath their feet was no longer even, and filthy water pooled within the cracks.

The farther they walked, the more obvious the change in environnt beca. Shop signs disappeared, replaced by scrawled slogans.

Bamboo poles jutted out from windows with clothes hanging to dry. The sounds of conversation and children crying drifted from behind doors and shutters.

Vivian slowed her steps. She clutched the handkerchief covering her mouth and nose tightly. Her eyes, usually sharp with pride and scrutiny, were now wide open.

“Is… is this the Black Street?”

“Not yet. This is only the outskirts,” Eve replied, choosing a relatively quieter alley. “It is a place where all sorts of people mingle. Young Miss, please stay close.”

“Oh… oh.” Vivian instinctively moved nearer to Eve, even brushing against her arm.

The curiosity and excitent she had felt earlier were steadily fading. She was beginning to understand that the filth and danger Eve had ntioned were not exaggerations but the cold reality of this district.

Her pride would not allow her to retreat. She pressed her lips together and forced herself to continue walking. At the very least, there was soone tall and familiar beside her…

“Young Miss, do not speak in a mont. Simply watch how I handle things.”

“Are you ordering ?” Vivian pouted in displeasure.

“I am rely concerned that Young Miss might violate the rules here. Just as Morninglight Manor has its rules, this place does as well. We are strangers here. Please cooperate.”

“I am always the one others cooperate with. When have I ever had to cooperate with anyone?”

Eve was montarily at a loss for words. Making this noble daughter behave obediently was indeed difficult. Since they had not yet reached their destination, she shifted the topic. “Does Young Miss understand the current state of the nation?”

“Are you looking down on

with that question? I have attended more history lessons than you have eaten als.”

“I ask with humility.”

“Hmph. Then I shall reluctantly enlighten you,” Vivian said, lifting her chin proudly, as though she would refuse to speak unless the other lowered herself first.

“There is no nominal ruler here. In practice, the major families hold the power. Order is entrusted to the Central Church, and force is represented by private family troops and the Church’s guards.”

In summary, it was a form of “gang-ruled order.” As a special administrative city, Vosini had once been fiercely contested among the great families. After the Central Church intervened, it had beco a special district governed by none of them.

Eve nodded. She was already aware of this.

The alley they traversed was deep. Though it was broad daylight, it was oppressively dim. The sun was entirely blocked by the chaotic laundry strung overhead. Yet Eve still did not put away her parasol.

It seed that beyond shielding from sunlight, she also wished to conceal her appearance.

“Hmph, shall this Young Miss continue educating you?” Vivian was gaining montum. She had always been deeply attached to the idea of “performing well.”

“That will suffice,” Eve said without refusing. “Then, Young Miss… do you know about the gangs?”

“The gangs? If you an the mafia, then of course I do.”

“That is precisely why I ask Young Miss to cooperate.”

“Oh?” Vivian raised a brow. “Are they so formidable that even with the Hatherin Family’s background, I must cooperate with them?”

Eve did not answer imdiately. Her gaze settled on the figures ahead.

At what appeared to be the end of the alley, instead of a dead wall, there hung a large black curtain. Before it stood several idle n.

They were dressed in a similar fashion—vests over shirts, black trousers, polished leather shoes, and berets. One of them coughed violently, eyes watering from the strong cigarette in his hand.

“Cough, cough… Damn it. Where did Ivan get this stuff? It is so strong even my old man would not get used to it.”

“Make do with it…” another replied lazily, but halfway through his sentence, he suddenly lifted his head, eyes sharpening. “Hm? Soone’s coming.”

With that warning, as though a leader had cast a vigilance buff upon his followers, all of them straightened and faced the approaching tall and short figures.

“Stop. Who are you?”

“Here to ‘stock up,’” Eve said in a lowered voice, dipping her parasol as she stepped in front of Vivian to block her from view.

Vivian did not imdiately grasp what was happening, but instinctively fell silent. When people encountered sudden situations they did not understand, they often froze for a few seconds.

The apparent leader narrowed his eyes, sizing up Eve beneath the parasol that concealed her face, then glanced toward the petite, indistinct figure behind her.

The Black Street had its own rules. Not just anyone could pass through that curtain.

“You know the rules?” he asked, flicking ash from his cigarette.

Eve said nothing. Her previously empty hand erged from the pocket of her maid uniform. Between her slender fingers were several folded banknotes.

With a casual flick, the small stack landed precisely in the man’s instinctively opened palm.

He paused, then bared his teeth in a grin, weighing the money in his hand. “Good. As long as you know the rules. Go on in. Keep your eyes open and behave. Do not cause trouble.”

He stepped aside and signaled to his companion.

Another man approached and lifted a corner of the heavy black curtain. Instantly, a wave of perfu mingled with alcohol-laced heat surged out, accompanied by a deafening swell of noise.

Without turning back, Eve lightly touched Vivian’s arm to signal her to follow, then stepped into the world beyond the curtain.

The instant Vivian passed through, the sight before her left her stunned for several seconds.

“Young Miss, welco to the darker side of Vosini.”

Vivian did not respond. Her attention was entirely captured by the Black Street, which, compared to the filthy alley behind them, felt like a different world.

Above them was not open sky, but a narrow gap ford by buildings of varying heights. Yet the street on both sides was brilliantly lit.

People dressed in all manners of attire laughed loudly, hawked goods, argued—brimming with fervent vitality.

Even the ground beneath their feet was considerably cleaner. Countless signboards flashed with neon lights, transforming what should have been dayti into sothing resembling night.

“Just now… what was that about?” Vivian finally regained so clarity from the visual shock. Staying close to Eve, she asked, “Who were those people? What did you give them?”

“mbers of a gang. More precisely, peripheral mbers of the mafia who control the entrance to this street.”

Eve’s tone remained emotionless as her eyes discreetly surveyed their surroundings. “Those bills were a toll. Here, their rules are more effective than the laws of the Central Church.”

“The mafia… I have to pay them a toll as well?”

Eve glanced sideways at her. “Young Miss, the Hatherin Family naturally has its dignity and its thods.”

“They are not re street hooligans. They are organized groups operating in the gray zones. Their rules—let us say that even beyond the Hatherin Family, other nobles would prefer not to invite the trouble of crossing them.”

Vivian instinctively wanted to retort, feeling that this diminished the family’s prestige. Yet as the words reached her lips and she saw the seriousness in Eve’s eyes, she swallowed them back.