Stepping into the bar for the first time, I felt overwhelmed by the lively atmosphere. The majority of patrons seemed to be in groups, and solitary individuals tended to blend into the background, rarely drawing attention.
After conducting a few discreet scans of the crowd, I couldn't spot anyone who appeared overtly dangerous. Perhaps I should have arrived later, when the atmosphere would be more intense and conducive to gathering information.
"Hey, handsome!" A voice called out as I roamed the bar. While I wasn't one to boast, it was clear her words were directed my way.
"Not interested," I replied swiftly, preemptively declining any advances or questions she might have had in mind.
[+20 Evil Points]
"You didn't even let me finish," she responded, clearly unhappy with my immediate dismissal.
"You were about to ask me for a drink, and I ain't interested in you." I explained, leaving little room for further discussion.
[+50 Evil Points]
With the points secured, I departed, grateful that the woman didn't persist in pursuing me. It seemed she possessed a modicum of self-awareness, sparing her from further point acquisition through manipulation.
Surveying the bar, I spotted a disgruntled, inebriated individual. While approaching him might seem risky, it appeared to be the swiftest route to gaining information.
"Whatcha want?" He slurred his words, clearly inebriated.
"Do you happen to know anything about the Rangers?" I inquired, mentioning the gang I had an interest in joining. The Rangers were renowned for their significant influence within the criminal underworld.
"The Rangers?" The mention of the gang seemed to sober him up somewhat.
"That's the one," I affirmed, satisfied that I had confirmed the information I sought.
"Get me a drink, and I'll spill," the inebriated man proposed with a sly grin.
I contemplated the request for a moment. He was already quite intoxicated, and purchasing more alcohol for him could push him over the edge. However, if it would lead to valuable information, I was willing to oblige, at least until I had gleaned every nugget of knowledge I needed.
"Could you bring a glass of water, please?" I requested it from the bartender.
[+20 Evil Points]
"Kid, I said I wanted a drink, not water!" He grew visibly irritated at my choice to order water instead of an alcoholic beverage.
"Oh, this is for me. I was going to ask for what you want." I took a sip of the water and looked at him.
"Whiskey sour, please," he requested, and as the bartender prepared his drink, he began to share information.
"The Rangers, you say? That brings back memories of when they were just a fledgling crew. Back then, they were vulnerable, and anyone with real influence could have wiped them out with ease." His change in demeanor from earlier was quite noticeable, leaving me intrigued.
"So, kid, what's your business with the Rangers? They're not the kind of group anyone would willingly mess with," he inquired, clearly curious about my intentions.
"Does it really matter what I want to do with them?" I retorted, not intending to divulge my plans, especially given my current status.
"I suppose not. Your fate isn't my concern," he conceded, dropping the line of questioning.
"I'd wager you're interested in their whereabouts," I guessed, sensing that I might have struck gold on my first attempt. While I couldn't be certain if this elderly gentleman knew the exact location of the Rangers, his previous comments hinted at it. If true, this could save me the trouble of further inquiries and searching.
"If you're after their location, buy me another drink," he proposed, having depleted his previous whiskey and requesting another.
I sighed and got him to order another drink. After getting his second drink from me, he continued to talk.
"As for their headquarters, it's rather straightforward. They run a pawn shop and a gambling den—typical gang enterprises. Give me your phone, and I'll send you their exact location." He accepted my phone, using the GPS function to pinpoint their whereabouts. Once he had the coordinates, he returned my phone.
"Now, be on your way. I'd like some solitude," he grumbled, effectively dismissing me after providing the information I sought.
I had already intended to leave, considering the amount of time I had spent away from the group. Janette's friends might start inquiring further about our relationship, but I had no intention of going out of my way to entertain them.
Upon my return to the group, I was met with a tense situation. The seven of them were embroiled in an argument with another group.
"You think a thousand bucks is going to cover the cost of my dress, bitch?" The conversation indicated that someone from our group had accidentally spilled a drink on a member of the other group, leading to the dispute.
While a thousand dollars could often mollify most people, the escalating confrontation suggested that this dispute wasn't going to end so easily.
I had no intention of foolishly inserting myself into the situation to mediate. My relationship with the seven could potentially be sour if they found me merely observing, but I had never aspired to become best friends with them. Watching how this altercation would unfold intrigued me more than getting involved in it.
"And what do you suggest we do?" Trisha made an attempt to mediate the situation, seeking a resolution.
"I want a million dollars. If you can provide that, I'll drop this," the other party declared with an arrogant smirk, clearly never intending to reconcile.
Money could indeed be a powerful tool in resolving conflicts. If I were wealthy, I might have resorted to a similar strategy. Given the system at my disposal, though, I had no grounds to complain. If things went well in the future, money wouldn't pose a problem for me either.
"A million dollars!!!" The sheer audacity of the demand left everyone flabbergasted. Even those watching the spectacle from the sidelines found the idea of shelling out a million dollars for a preposterous dress.
"You!!!" The group didn't know how to respond. Their expressions were filled with contempt for the woman's absurd request.
"Fufufu, you might believe I'm joking about the price, but this gown of mine is imbued with enchantments. Regrettably, these enchantments don't extend to stain removal," the woman remarked cryptically, leaving everyone uncertain whether she was making a joke or telling the truth. It appeared that this situation was more complex than anyone had initially assumed.