Martin's eyes lit up at Hank's words. He realized that they were three days away from the burning of the Scrap Terminal, a scene from the original timeline. This was good news for Martin; the more chaos there was, the more opportunities he would have. After all, only in muddy waters could one catch fish.
Hank walked towards the warehouse exit, but then paused, turning his head to say, "Our boss's name is Brandon Ouka. You're a member of the Squires now; how can you not know his name?"
Martin chuckled lightly and nodded in response. The two of them stepped outside, and it was getting dark. The streets were filled with weary pedestrians. Through casual conversation, Martin learned that the burly man he had seen earlier, his new boss Brandon Ouka, had been the chief of guards for nearly ten years. He had a wide range of contacts, including both high-ranking and low-ranking officials within the royal palace, and had even been summoned by the king.
However, Martin was skeptical of Hank's words; they had the feel of flattery. While it might be true that Brandon Ouka had been chief of the guards for ten years, the claim of him having extensive contacts remained unproven. After all, staying in the same position for that long could also indicate that he wasn't particularly well-connected in the royal capital.
As Hank prepared to take his leave, Martin initiated a conversation. "How about we go for a drink? I just arrived in the King's Capital today, and I have many questions I'd like your advice on."
Hank hesitated, appearing to be in a difficult situation, but ultimately, Martin's warm invitation led them both to a drinking establishment. After a few glasses of rice wine, Hank's cheeks flushed slightly, and with alcohol on his breath, he became more talkative.
"I'm telling you, if the Boss hadn't lost control of himself at the start, he would have already entered the Royal Palace to serve... you know what I mean, he shouldn't be touching..." Hank burped, cutting himself off mid-sentence as if he realized he had said something wrong.
Martin picked up his wine glass and clinked it against Hank's before he tilted his head back to drink. Considering the dangerous nature of his mission, Martin abstained from alcohol.
"Never mind, let's not talk about that. The Boss lives a carefree life every day now and is a regular on Pleasant Street. It's really enviable," Hank said as Martin casually nodded and poured another glass for him.
After three rounds of drinks, it was around seven in the evening when Martin and Hank parted ways outside the restaurant, the streets illuminated by the glow of streetlights. Martin lit a cigarette and thoughtfully watched Hank walk away. He had gathered a lot of useful information, and now it was time for him to act.
He pressed a hand against the hilt of the knife at his waist and stopped a passerby, who initially looked annoyed but quickly backed off when he saw Martin's Squire uniform. "Can you tell me where Pleasant Street is?" Martin asked.
The passerby responded with a friendly smile and gave Martin directions. That smile, along with the name "Pleasant Street," led Martin to ponder what that place was like. His new boss seemed to have considerable influence.
As he approached Pleasant Street, he found himself in a neighborhood bathed in pink and red lights. Both sides of the street were lined with two- to three-story buildings topped with spires, their roofs adorned with glazed tiles and lanterns hanging at the entrance. The gentle sounds of music mingled with laughter as couples embraced closely.
On the lofts above, he could vaguely see women dressed in revealing clothing and holding slender pipes, winking and smiling as they tried to attract passing guests. This was Joy Street, the flower street of the pirate world.
