Chapter 198 Practice
Based on the information provided by the boy, Ji Lan quickly found the place.
It is located in a remote alley.
The main entrance is a shop selling soda and drinks. It is impossible to enter the back room because a wall is built in the middle and is blocked. There is a side door in the alley, and you can only enter through this thick iron door.
Gilan was not in a hurry.
He first found an opportunity at the alley when no one was passing by, took off his leather jacket, and then tucked the cheap shirt inside into his trousers, pretending to be a common look among local workers.
Gilan smashed his leather boots and hat with his fingers again, adjusted his eyes, and eliminated the trace of ferocity, leaving only tiredness and dullness.
Wait until noon.
The nearby "Tate Toy Factory" rings the bell.
Soon, some workers slipped out during lunch time and entered the alley in groups. They knocked on the iron door in the alley and whispered a few words to the people inside before being let in.
Gilan has been hiding in the dark, observing and eavesdropping.
He waited a few more minutes.
Then he took a step towards the iron door, raised his hand and knocked.
Dong-dong.
“Who?”
A vigilant inquiry came from behind the door.
“Don’t do this, Brunson.”
Gillen imitated the worker just now and said with a slight smile with a slight eastern accent.
Through observation, he discovered that most of the workers in the toy factory seemed to have Eastern accents. And his tone is joking, as if he is familiar with it.
“Let me ask you, which one?”
But the guard behind the door was still worried and asked again.
"Vic Netmey." Gillan made up a name casually, his tone slightly impatient. "Hurry up, the factory bell will ring in a moment. I came to you without even eating lunch. If I waste more time, I will go next door to buy syrup next time."
"Vic..."< br>
There was some muttering inside, and he looked at it with peep eyes for a few seconds.
“Okay, okay, keep pushing, you guys.”
The iron door opened, revealing the head of a young man.
He looked at Gilan twice, and then stepped aside without noticing.
Jilan chuckled, touched the other person's cheek, and strode inside. The young man dodged with a look of disgust, then cursed a few times.
Everything is so natural.
When Jilan walked in, he found that although the space inside was small, it looked like a bar layout.
A long table lay across the center, with benches on both sides.
At the back of the bar, a young man who looked like a bartender was wiping glasses. There was no bottle of wine in sight on the wall cabinet behind him. Instead, there were soda bottles and syrup bottles.
Four men in leather jackets stood in the corner of the room, whispering to each other.
At this time, there were already more than a dozen workers sitting at the table, talking and laughing while drinking cheap beer from their glasses.
Jilan strode to the bar and knocked on the table with two silver coins.
Boom boom.
"Bring me a glass of wine."
"There is no wine, only wheat sugar water. Five cents per glass."
The bartender glanced at him and took it out on his own A glass, fiddled with it under the counter, and was served a glass of bad beer.
Jilan took a sip, looking disgusted.
"Have a drink that's a little stronger. This stuff is only suitable for little brats like you."
His tone was contemptuous, with a thick accent.
The bartender chuckled, looked Ji Lan up and down, and said:
"Then your salary for the past few days will be gone."
"It's gone. No more!" Jilan stared. "You can still make money if you lose it. If you don't drink this thing for a day, you will feel uncomfortable!"
"Okay." The bartender smiled and winked at a man in the corner.
The thug watching the scene nodded, opened the curtain, and went to a utility room to get a dark glass bottle. The bartender took it, carefully uncorked the bottle, poured half a glass of brown wine, and threw in a few ice cubes.
"Barley sugar water, 3 pfennig."
The bartender pushed the glass in front of Gillan, stared at the two silver coins in his hand, and played with the taste:< br>
"You don't seem to have enough money in your hand?"
"Why are you so anxious?"
Jilan chuckled, picked up the wine glass, and drank it all.
The bartender didn’t seem worried that he would run away without giving him the money, he hugged his elbows and watched with a smile.
Duh.
"Sure enough, it's strong enough! Good!"
Jilan put the empty wine glass on the bar and let out a laugh. It immediately attracted the attention of many workers.
These men looked at him with envy and contempt.
What a drunkard!
“Give me another glass.” Gillan pointed to the empty glass.
"Let's settle this glass first."
The bartender was indifferent.
“Bang.” Gilan cursed dissatisfiedly in the eastern dialect.
Then he took something out of his pocket and threw something on the bar.
The bartender was about to get it when he suddenly froze.
His expression changed drastically, his eyes widened, and he looked straight at the brown pickup truck on the table. In the center of its surface was a circular metal badge with an "X" on a black background and white stripes.
Gulu.
The bartender swallowed.
He glanced at the rough man in front of him and saw that he had no expression. Then he plucked up the courage to pick up the card and opened it.
Suddenly, the bartender’s pupils shrank sharply, and he almost screamed:
"Senior Prohibition Agent!!"
Bang! !
Gilan expressionlessly took out his revolver and fired a shot at the ceiling.
Suddenly, everyone present was stunned.
The room was silent.
The four strong thugs looked at each other and were about to draw their guns, but found that there was another person in front of them. Before he could see clearly, he felt a pain in his neck, and his consciousness fell into silence.
With a few crackles, the four thugs fell to the ground.
Gilan turned around, walked up to the dull bartender, took the carbon dioxide away from his hand, and then returned to his native voice:
"The Empire's senior anti-alcohol agent, Ji Lan Lan Iros."
He grinned.
"Congratulations, you are arrested."
*
*
*
Jilan felt a power, inexplicably surging in his heart .
It was as if an invisible hand was dragging his consciousness forward in a certain direction. He knew that this was the so-called "guiding force", guiding him in the direction of finding the original essence.
However, this power seemed to be limited, and after a while, it gradually faded away.
‘The role of the “agent” needs to be more involved and the impact must be greater, so that the feedback I get can be stronger. ’
Jilan opened her eyes, thoughtfully.
He was sitting on a large stagecoach.
The two rows of sixteen-seater metal benches were all filled. Not only that, there were four or five people lying on the cramped aisle steps. These guys were all tied up, with rags or smelly socks stuffed in their mouths, and they were looking at Gilan in horror.
They are all members of the "Tate Gang" and are involved in all aspects of the wine-making and wine-selling business. By interrogating the bartender, Gillan got more clues and quickly eliminated the group.
With the dual power of detective certificates and banknotes, he easily commandeered a public carriage and then pulled these guys to the police headquarters in South Muse.
Just do the whole thing.
Since he wanted to play a "senior prohibition agent" in depth, he had to go through the entire process, and Gillan was unequivocal.
(End of this chapter)