America 1881: Legend of the West

Mitchell Walker is very familiar with the architectural pattern of downtown.

The dirty alleys are piled with all kinds of debris, the passages are cluttered, and sewage flows across them;

Clotheslines connect the not-so-high buildings on both sides of the alley. The sheets and clothes hanging on them deprive the place of the little sunshine;

Someone was repairing his roof, which had collapsed due to snow, and the police chief gave him a numb look as he passed by.

Because of the cold and hunger, these people seemed to have no energy, and their attitude was naturally not very friendly.

Although this is Walker's jurisdiction, he is rarely willing to come here. Generally, the Sheriff will only appear here in uniform when "tax collection" is taking place.

Walker walked along the alley and turned into a small courtyard.

The yard is in the shade and very dark.

"Tuk, Tuk, Tuk"

A bearded man in a leather apron, holding a bone-chopping knife in his hand, was squatting in the corner of the yard, cutting into a pile of carcasses of an unknown animal on the ground.

Yes, the skin has been peeled off, and it has also been cut into pieces, which is completely invisible.

The weather was cold, but the strong man didn't seem to have many clothes on him. Except for the leather apron, the wrinkled cloth he was lining was also stained with blood, red and black.

Walker's breath was hot, but his back felt cold.

Noticing the police chief entering the yard, the big man stood up, the knife in his hand hanging by his side, still stained with minced meat.

He said to Walker deadpan;

"Chief, if I remember correctly, you took the payment for this month at the beginning of the month, right?"

Walker subconsciously touched his waist, and after confirming that the revolver was there, his expression relaxed slightly.

He took a deep breath: "I'm looking for Torrio, is he here? I have something very important to look for him."

After hearing this, the strong man squatted down again and continued to chop his flesh with one knife.

"It's in the house, go in." He didn't even look at the sergeant.

Walker walked slowly past him, inadvertently, as if he had kicked something in the shadows.

The thing "Gululu" rolled into the corner.

"Hey! Sheriff, can you be careful?"

Behind him, the strong man stopped the knife in his hand, wiped his nose, and said without emotion.

Walker held back and said nothing.

He disliked coming to this place very much.

If it weren't for the somewhat shady purpose of coming here, otherwise he wouldn't have appeared here alone.

These bastards from the Five Points Gang are different from other gangs in the lower city.

Although the leader was Italian, the gang was not family-based like the later Italian gangs.

Their members are a bunch of lunatics and lunatics.

These people are not afraid of the police at all and are happy to jump repeatedly on the edge of their own bottom line.

Walker ignored the strong man and walked straight into the house.

The room was darker and colder than the courtyard outside.

A group of young men in dirty gray smocks were gathered around a table by the window, playing an extremely boring game.

They each drew a card from the playing cards and simply compared the cards.

Even the most addicted gamblers are rarely willing to play this unskilled game, but these people enjoy it endlessly and make strange laughter from time to time.

"Where's Torrio? Where did he go?" Walker said loudly, holding his pocket with one hand.

It was not the card players who reacted to the Sheriff's words.

"Woof! Woof! Roar~~"

A large black dog burst out of the shadows.

This is a ferocious Neapolitan dog. It has a huge head, a muscular body that is almost right-angled, and a face full of wrinkles that extends to the chin.

It intended to pounce on the Sheriff, but the collar around its neck restricted its ability to do so.

The dog could only growl and grin at Walker.

Walker instinctively took two steps back and reached for the gun at his waist.

"Robert, Chief Walker will not be happy if you treat him like this." A not-so-tall figure came out of the corner.

This man looks to be in his thirties.

He wore a woolen bowler hat, a woolen coat, and leather gloves on his hands. His elegant clothes were in sharp contrast to the messy and dirty environment around him.

"Torrio, damn, what are you doing?" Walker adjusted his clothes to hide his embarrassment.

"Quickly, apologize to the Sheriff."

Torrio touched the head of the Neapolitan named "Robert", but there was no apology in his tone.

The Italian's cheeks trembled nervously, and his smile was very strange.

Walker sounded very uncomfortable.

He frowned and winked at Torrio: "I have something important to tell you!"

"Didn't you hear? Mr. Sheriff said he had something to talk to me about. What are you doing here?" The Italian glanced at the people by the window.

Several of his men stood up lazily.

They dropped their cards on the table and left the room away from Walker.

Walker was very unhappy.

People in this room were afraid of him, and naturally no one respected him, including the dog.

This is unimaginable in other neighborhoods.

He also walked to the window and sat down at the table where the people were playing cards.

After all, the light is slightly better there.

Torrio walked to the liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

He poured a drink for Walker and himself, then sat across from Walker, picked up the pile of playing cards that his younger brothers had just thrown away, and started playing by himself.

It's cold in New York, but it's not cold enough for whiskey to freeze.

Walker hesitated and finally took a sip.

"Torrio, you went too far this time. Where did you have the courage to attack the police?!"

After taking a sip of wine, a warm current surged into his body, and Walker questioned the Italian in front of him.

But the Italian looked disapproving:

"That policeman wants to kill them all, but I can't do anything. He blocks my way to make money. If he blocks my way to make money, he blocks your way to make money, and he blocks your way to make money."

"But you killed him!" Walker frowned, "Do you know how much trouble this will bring us?"

He suppressed his anger, fearing that he could not help but take out his gun and kill the audacious guy in front of him!

However, the Italian played with the playing cards in his hand and just glanced at him with a smile on his lips.

"But didn't you still make a false report? Because you know, we are on the same boat, and your boss will not let the boat sink. Otherwise, he would not have given you the permission to do that."

"Your boss is much smarter than you at this point."