Bailonz Street 13

Chapter 167. Carrots and Sticks (1)

Jefferson looked at us with a tired face.

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Rick Sloughton, now a battered mess, was being dragged into a police wagon. His ear was covered in blood from the bullet that had grazed it. But wasn’t he lucky that his earlobe wasn’t blown off? No, that his head wasn’t hit?

Of course, Liam had roughed him up a bit more, leaving his face mottled, and he’d fainted once and now had seizures just from seeing Liam Moore’s face, but well, he’d brought it upon himself.

Thanks to Liam shifting the gun’s aim at the last moment, Sloughton had avoided death.

How he would face legal judgment remained to be seen, but at least we’d managed to save the children he’d purchased before they died.

Yard officers were rescuing and bringing out the children. Every one of them looked sickly. They couldn’t even remember who they were or why they were there. Their condition was horrific enough to draw involuntary sighs.

“First we’ll send the children to a care facility for proper treatment…”

While Jefferson discussed the next steps, Liam maintained his silence. Then, after organizing his thoughts, he spoke.

“Lend me some officers.”

“What?”

“Strong ones with intimidating faces.”

“What are you thinking?”

Liam’s eyes had settled into a cold calm. However, I could see the emotions swirling within them. His grey eyes had darkened with anger until they appeared almost black. Liam answered through gritted teeth.

“We’re going to raid an orphanage.”

* * *

We really were heading to raid an orphanage. Along with the strong, intimidating men Liam had requested.

People on the street could be seen slinking away at the sight of the rough-looking group. Some quote about force, destruction, fear, and might being our only protection came to mind. Can’t remember where I saw it. Still seems true though, especially in this 19th century London.

“Which orphanage are we going to?”

There are clusters of orphanages here. Most areas have them.

Children with nowhere to go are entrusted to educational institutions or orphanages, but even with funding, there were few ways to save all these children. Protection ends at seventeen, and from then on, children must find their own way to survive. In orphanages outside the supervision network (like Stone Orphanage), abuse and neglect were commonplace.

The orphanage Liam was about to storm was exactly such a place. Fortunately, we’d learned the name of the orphanage where the child had originally stayed before being moved.

“Bernard.”

“Ah. There it is.”

I examined Liam’s face and flinched back.

It was Bad Liam Moore. I knew him from Jane’s memories. Sometimes when dealing with the worst of the worst, Liam Moore becomes quite twisted. After seeing that side of him once, local thugs seem cute in comparison.

An officer asked.

“Should we knock?”

“Step aside.”

As Liam stepped forward, I began feeling strangely uneasy.

Bang!

With his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, Liam kicked the door hard. The closed door burst open noisily.

What reason was there to kick a door that wasn’t even locked? The officers’ expressions became peculiar. Their faces said ‘What’s this? Is he crazy?’

I didn’t bother defending him. To be honest, he was crazy….

People passing by could be seen quietly backing away.

Just then, someone came out from inside, shouting at the top of their lungs.

“What madman in broad daylight would—!”

“Found your madman?”

“Yes! Mad… …Liam Moore?!”

The orphanage director’s face went pale upon meeting the madman’s friendly face, and he started running away like his tail was on fire.

Liam showed his teeth in a smile. Acting like this makes him look truly nasty. It made me wonder. Always polite, occasionally cynical, and then this thuggish side. Which was closer to the real Liam?

‘Is it really the thug side?’

Liam spoke.

“I’ll consider being lenient if you return by the count of three.”

Meaning he’d only ‘consider’ it.

“I’d be mad to come back! Mr. Moore!”

“You’ll have to.”

“Absolutely not!”

“If you don’t, I’ll shoot you.”

He really just threatened to shoot someone in front of the police. I pressed my throbbing temples.

Unfortunately, Liam… knew a very effective threat he’d recently learned. He fired his gun once at the ground where the man was running.

Oh good Lord Buddha Allah have mercy. Suddenly I wanted to call upon every deity.

“Jonathan Osmond.”

Well done. Brother-in-law and brother-in-law, eh? Exchanging such lovely gifts.

While I was burning with murderous intent toward Jonathan, Liam cheerfully opened and closed the magazine, seemingly checking how many bullets remained.

“That was just a ‘blank.'”

“Mr. Moore…”

Seeing an officer fidgeting nervously while watching Liam, I stepped in.

I didn’t want to see such methods in front of children. But the children were watching the director’s predicament with relieved and satisfied faces!

‘…Is London really okay?’

The future of the 19th century looks dark.

I stepped forward with heavy sighs. Then I threw my heeled shoe at the back of the fleeing man’s head. A perfect strike.

He fell forward with a shriek.

The children cheered and clapped.

Looking down at the middle-aged man clutching the back of his head, Liam whispered sweetly and kindly.

“Shall we go to your office, or would you prefer to spend some quality time here?”

“…T-the office… please.”

His manner of speech immediately became respectful as the strong men began lifting and moving him. Liam picked up my fallen shoe with a satisfied face, came back to me, and helped me put it on.

With my arms around Liam’s neck as he knelt, I whispered.

“You know you’re really nasty, right?”

Liam’s eyes crinkled into a bright smile.

So he can smile like that. I already felt drained and wanted to collapse. Thinking we’d caused enough chaos, I asked.

“Feel better?”

“Not yet. I’m planning to pop the champagne after we’ve cleaned out this rotten organization completely.”

“Ah. Not yet then.”

Right, do whatever you want with the champagne.

I headed toward the director’s office, leaving him to his satisfaction. Liam watched me for a moment before following.