Assassins Creed Syndicate: Erased Memories

Chapter 19

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All of London was covered in black clouds, people knew it was raining today, but there had still been no signs of it until the four o'clock chimes sounded and a chain fell over the city. Whitechapel, clenched, covered herself with small spots of light. The street lamps were of little use but it was still the task of the lamp-changers, who, even in the rain, fulfilled their duty by leaning against the ladder and climbing it until it reached the top. Unscrewing the washer, this made light.

An old lamp-holder, who had already taken thirty years of work, was walking on the wet floor. He carried a ladder on the right side and, on the left side, he held a suitcase with which he brought the utensils. The man walked in a drenched overcoat until he reached his next lamp. He puts down his suitcase in order to position the ladder, in which the man with the gray mustache notices an individual by the walls of a building. He was younger than him, wearing a long coat with padded straps and quality material, a new, soggy coat. The old man was unable to ignore him when he realized that the man remained there without moving, without looking for a place where he could take shelter. Long black hair covered his face making it impossible to recognize his identity. The man takes two steps towards him and, a little closer, it appears that the man with long black hair moved his lips, spoke to himself, quietly, whatever was only concerned him. But that hadn't stopped the worried old man from asking.

"Are you all right, young man?" Said the lamp-holder.

His reasoning was interrupted and the black-haired man's lips ceased to move. In it appears a white sclera eye and dark grayish-green iris, looking introspectively at the old man.

"Nothing of your business, old codger, bugger off."

"But the rain seems to not cease, my boy, you don't want to catch the flu in the coldest months." He responded kindly.

"As I said to you old man, leave me alone." The man had put his left foot on the floor, which was leaning against the wall, and faced the old lamp. "If you are so concerned about time and illnesses, hurry up, you don't have much time." Black hair walks forward leaving the man helpless.

The black-haired man walks until he reaches a well-lit pub, even with all the rain outside. The man opens the door, making the hustle inside clear. Several men and women, dressed in red reminiscent of bligthers, sang and drank happily. The bartender served the various ex-bligthers who, drunk, when emptying their glasses demanded that they be refilled over and over again. A short, smiling ex-bligther was cheering the night up, playing the keys of the piano, creating music, he was accompanied by yet another bully with a glass in his hand, a skinny tall man with freckles who, out of tune, accompanied the classics played, and a woman with disheveled and short hair, because of lice, red cheeks and a cheerful expression, effect of alcohol.

So the man with black hair went, going through all that revelry, with men and women accompanied by prostitutes sitting on their laps who owed a low laugh when they heard what was whispered in their ears, and others who ended the party for them and went upstairs with their companions tonight.

After passing them, the black-haired man headed for a door that was in the corridor after passing the arch that gave access to the bar. The bartender waves and the man just responds with a "hi" without looking him in the face. He opens the door and then closes it abruptly, almost as if trying to drown out that racket. He goes down stairs that lead to a basement, it was a restricted area, a large division for a basement, exclusive to restricted members of these ex-bligthers. A training room where two twins trained hand-to-hand fighting, a woman was throwing knives at the target and a tall, strong man was throwing violent punches at a burlap sack full of potatoes, tied with a rope that he held in the air after passing it up a beam on the ceiling and attached to a column below, the place was an old factory transformed into a pub.