Last night, as usual, a number of gang members—including Natuba—had gathered in the restaurant.
They drank the restaurant's watered-down liquor with its bland taste, chewed on dried vegetable strips soaked in chili oil, and used a large-screen digital TV—salvaged from the dump and repaired—to watch the newest Tiangong mech-fighting footage they had just picked up from the bookstore.
At first, the atmosphere was lively, and Natuba was having a great time too. But around eleven-thirty at night, a few more gang members arrived at the restaurant.
Those people had been gambling in the town's card den earlier. By that hour they had gotten hungry, so they came to the restaurant looking for a late-night meal.
Normally, that wouldn't have meant much.
But among them were two people who, to Natuba, were very special.
Marifina and Torubin.
Marifina was the curvy woman Natuba had liked for a long time. But she had never been interested in him. Rumor had it she found him disgusting because his feet smelled bad.
So Natuba had chased after her for ages without success. Instead, lately, she had gotten together with another minor leader—Torubin, a man known for being relatively particular about his hygiene and daily habits.
The moment those two showed up, the atmosphere naturally turned awkward.
In the end, it was Natuba who forced himself to act as though the matter was all in the past, plastering on a strained smile and greeting them. Only then did the mood in the room gradually become lively again.
But a fake smile could only hold for so long.
Watching Torubin and Marifina flirt shamelessly from a dark corner, Natuba's face grew darker and darker. In the end, he couldn't take it anymore and left without saying a word.
A lot of people noticed him leaving.
But they all tacitly chose not to bring it up. Only a few who had grudges against him before joked that he was probably heading home to cry under his blanket.
That was what most people assumed as well.
After all, it was already late. Even the bookstore had closed by then. If Natuba wasn't going home, where else could he possibly go?
But today, when White-Claw Crow led people to Natuba's house to check, they found nobody there. His bed was cold. Most importantly, the tablet in his room showed that his last recorded operation had been in the afternoon yesterday.
According to Natuba's usual habits, once he returned home alone, the first thing he typically did was pick up his tablet and either watch a show or play a simple game.
The fact that there was no usage record from last night meant he very likely never went home at all.
White-Claw Crow immediately realized that something had probably happened to Natuba, and his expression darkened at once.
A minor gang leader vanishing inside the gang's own territory was no small matter.
White-Claw Crow had to consider the possibility that outside forces might have interfered. If this was the work of a rival gang, then what lay behind it might even be the brewing start of an all-out gang war.
Just as Jiang Qi had judged, no matter what, White-Claw Crow had to get to the bottom of this.
The commotion caused by the investigation quickly caught Old Homa's attention and interrupted his lesson.
"Natuba's gone missing?" Homa frowned as he spoke with the gang member who had come to investigate. "That brat even came by my shop yesterday morning. How'd he suddenly disappear?"
"No idea. At first we thought the guy had just gotten drunk and passed out at home, but when we checked his place, he wasn't there..." the gang member said, shaking his head.
"That really is strange..." Old Homa muttered, then instinctively turned his head to look for Jiang Qi.
At a time like this, the best way to avoid trouble was to go directly to the square and gather with everyone else. Homa had originally wanted to bring Jiang Qi along.
But the moment he turned—
he discovered that Jiang Qi was gone too.
At that instant, Old Homa's heart gave a sudden jolt, and a deep, inexplicable sense of foreboding rose from the pit of his stomach.
Deadwood Town, central square.
Calling it a square was generous. In truth, it was just an open area in the center of town.
At the center of that open ground stood a water house.
The equipment inside it had reportedly also been built with support from Bafeng City, and it could directly draw deep groundwater.
The Wasteland climate was brutally dry. The people of the Wasteland had limited drilling capability and were almost incapable of digging a stable well on their own.
Even when they got lucky and found water, the well would often dry up not long afterward.
Because of that, this water house could be said to be the town's only stable water source and the most important source of daily-use water in all of Deadwood Town.
White-Claw Crow had deliberately built the square around it so that the surrounding area would remain open and unobstructed.
Only with an environment like that, along with guards keeping watch in shifts twenty-four hours a day, could he ensure as much as possible that outsiders could not sneak up to the water house and tamper with it.
Of course, when assemblies were needed, the upper level of the water house became a natural platform for speeches.
At this moment, a handsome man stood there, looking down over the crowd gathered in the square.
He was about one meter eighty tall. The black combat uniform he wore somehow gave off the elegance of formal black attire. But what drew the eye most was the pair of white gloves on his hands.
That spotless, immaculate white looked jarringly out of place in the Wasteland, as though it belonged to an entirely different world from everything around it.
This man was White-Claw Crow, leader of the Flying Crow Gang and the true ruler of Deadwood Town.
At the moment, there was not the slightest expression on his handsome face. He looked perfectly calm.
But anyone who knew him understood that the calmer White-Claw Crow's expression was, the more serious the situation usually was.
In the square below, Old Homa kept scanning the crowd for Jiang Qi.
Originally, he had thought this matter probably had nothing to do with them.
But Jiang Qi's sudden disappearance had left a constant knot of unease in his chest.
On the other side of the square, Jiang Qi crouched in the shadow of an old shack at the edge of the square, a tattered cloak scavenged from the dump draped over him.
He cast a distant glance at Old Homa, then quickly withdrew his gaze.
In truth, if he asked Homa for help, then given Homa's position, he might very well have a way to help Jiang Qi get through this crisis directly.
But Jiang Qi had no intention of doing that.
Partly because he believed he was capable of handling this matter himself.
But the most important reason was that he did not want Old Homa dragged into this mess.
After all, Homa was probably the person who had treated him best since he came to this world.
Sometimes Jiang Qi even thought that if he had met Old Homa earlier, he probably would never have had to suffer in the garbage heaps for so long.
Homa had already done more than enough for him.
To drag such a huge problem to the old man now was something Jiang Qi simply could not accept.
So this was one matter he intended to settle with his own hands.
Soon, aside from the scavengers still working in the garbage mountain, everyone still in Deadwood Town had been gathered into the square.
At the same time, Flying Crow Gang members were conducting a carpet search across the entire town.
Every house was being searched.
Even the latrines were not spared—they had to be stirred with shovels just in case.
In fact, quite a few people were genuinely hoping they might dig Natuba out of a cesspit somewhere. If he really had fallen into one and drowned, that would still be better than learning he had been assassinated.
Unfortunately, they got no such luck.
Time ticked past second by second.
As more and more gang members completed the searches of the areas assigned to them, the atmosphere at the scene grew increasingly tense.
Most of the town had already been searched.
And still, there was no sign of Natuba anywhere.
At last, White-Claw Crow lost patience.
"Lock this place down," he ordered in a low voice, turning toward the several minor leaders at his side. "Then send out the convoy and bring back all the scavengers working over at the garbage mountain as well."
"This matter," he said, his tone sinking even lower, "I'll investigate personally."
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 135)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 115)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League (Chapter 110)
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter105)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter100)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter67)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter85)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 60
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 65
From Junkman to Wasteland 50
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 35
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 40
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 37
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