She is a natural disaster.

Chapter 4 Old Town and New Town

Early in the morning, the sky was gloomy and overcast.

Anastasia, curled up on the sofa, opened her eyes and looked around her apartment.

The room was small and simply furnished, with only a sofa and a matching coffee table in addition to a wardrobe and wine cabinet.

Yes, there isn't even a bed in the room. If you want to sleep, you can just curl up on the sofa for a while.

Anastasia stood up, walked barefoot to the window, and leaned half her body out to look.

Angel Street remained as shabby and dilapidated as ever. The houses across the street were drab and their facades were gloomy. A little further away, the spire of the church could be seen.

Every time Anastasia woke up in this apartment, she would do something similar: first scan the room, then lean out halfway to look out the window.

She didn't know why she was doing this; perhaps she hoped that one morning she would wake up and find that the apartment was no longer an apartment, and the view from her window was no longer Angel Street.

However, the apartment is still an apartment, and Angel Street is still Angel Street; nothing has changed.

Anastasia turned away from the window and walked towards the bathroom. After a quick wash, she went to the wardrobe and began to choose clothes.

Today's outfit is still a combination of a shirt and a skirt, but this time with the addition of a holster, with a single-action revolver tucked into the holster under her left side.

The woman's shapely figure, combined with the coat she wears over her clothes, perfectly conceals the pistol in the holster under her arm, hiding the weapon.

Anastasia stood in front of the mirror, tidied herself up one last time, then pushed open the apartment door and walked downstairs.

7 Angel Street is a six-story apartment building. The rent is not expensive, the environment is average, and the occupancy rate is quite good. Sometimes you can hear the neighbors talking, and sometimes you can hear strange noises.

Nevertheless, Anastasia still liked it here, just like now: some people were making breakfast with a clanging sound, some were rushing out the door, and some were running down the stairs in a flurry of activity. It was chaotic and noisy, but very real.

The overwhelming sense of everyday life gave Anastasia the illusion that she was one of these people, not some so-called transcendent being, nor a terminally ill madman.

In addition, 7 Angel Street offers a thoughtful service: it provides light meals to its residents.

For a small fee, you can avoid the hassle of cooking, but most people still choose to cook for themselves because it's cheaper.

Anastasia went into the restaurant on the first floor and took two slices of toast from the window for breakfast.

creak!

The toast slices almost knocked out Anastasia's teeth!

She strongly suspected that the person preparing breakfast had shown the bread slices something they shouldn't have!

Anastasia stood in front of the apartment building, hastily swallowing her incredibly hard breakfast, when a carriage rumbled up and stopped in front of her.

"Good morning, Miss Angel!"

The coachman was an acquaintance of Anastasia's, and she had rented his carriage many times.

Although renting a carriage costs 80 helles per hour, more than many people earn in a day, it saves a lot of unnecessary trouble.

"Miss Angel, the priest said you need the carriage this morning," the coachman said, pulling out a slip of paper. "He also said you need to go to the riverside promenade in the upper town."

Anastasia nodded, opened the carriage door, and climbed in.

It wasn't that she was impolite or unwilling to greet the coachman, but rather that she was choking on the toast.

The coachman pulled the reins, and the carriage moved slowly, swaying and bumping along Angel Street.

Anastasia looked out the window from inside the train car. The streets were full of pedestrians struggling to make a living, and every now and then she could see newspaper boys shouting their wares.

Angel Street in the Seraphim district is like this every day, or rather, every day in the Old Town: countless workers flood into the factories like a torrent, and even children are busy trying to fill their stomachs.

No one dares to stop their busy pace, because stopping means being eliminated, going hungry, not being warm enough, or even ending up on the streets.

Anastasia's carriage drove past rumbling factories, chimneys that spewed thick smoke day and night, and old, dilapidated houses, until it arrived at a bridge spanning a river and connecting the two banks.

Boats come and go on the ever-flowing river, the Kilupa River, a great river that runs through Gloria and bisects the city.

The west bank of the river is the old city, where the vast majority of the poor live. The environment there is poor, the security is even worse, and the crime rate is high.

The new city lies on the east bank of the river. It is the jewel of Gloria, the power center of the entire city, and controls the vast majority of its wealth.

Although it's the same city, and only separated by the Kilupa River, the new town and the old town seem like two different worlds—one is magnificent and splendid, while the other is dilapidated and run-down.

As night falls, the difference between the new and old towns becomes equally apparent: one side is ablaze with neon lights and vibrant nightlife, while the other is shrouded in darkness, with only the tireless roar of factory machinery still blazing.

Anastasia's carriage swayed and rattled as it drove off the bridge and into the upper part of the new city.

The streets of the Upper City are wide and clean, with horse-drawn carriages passing by in an orderly fashion. High-rise buildings stand on both sides of the streets, and the shop windows display a dazzling array of goods.

In addition, there are many patrolling detectives on the streets, who guard the upper town 24 hours a day to prevent poor people from the other side of the river from coming here to steal and rob.

Anastasia's carriage moved even slower, blending in with the other carriages and becoming inconspicuous. Whenever a tram passed by, her carriage had to stop and wait for it to go by.

Finally, the carriage arrived at its destination and came to a shaky stop in front of a tall building. Anastasia got off the carriage.

The so-called riverside avenue does not run along the Kirupa River, but rather along one of its tributaries. The river flows quietly, with lush flowers and trees lining both banks.

Anastasia strolled slowly along the riverbank, observing her surroundings and memorizing every blade of grass, every flower, and every tree, especially those easily overlooked blind spots.

This demonstrates the professional qualities of a private investigator: understanding the work environment, knowing potential hiding places, and knowing safe evacuation routes.

Anastasia walked around and around the street until the blazing sunlight dispelled the gloom in the sky before slowly returning to the front of her apartment building.

She sat casually on a bench across from the apartment, carrying a bag of bread and a can of beer, seemingly having forgotten Father Lawrence's advice to secretly protect the commissioned target.

Anastasia took a piece of bread that had just come out of the oven from the bag, took a small bite, and squinted her eyes contentedly.

You get what you pay for; the bread in the Upper East Side is much tastier. That's the taste of money!

Anastasia munched on her bread on the bench, occasionally taking a sip from her beer can. She looked more like she was on a picnic than carrying out a commission.

However, Anastasia, who was squinting, was actually keeping an eye on the pedestrians coming and going at the apartment door.

Some people are probably apartment residents, dressed in suits or elegant dresses; others are just passersby, coming and going in a hurry.

There were also some other people who were quite noteworthy: a man wearing a hat and a trench coat kept hiding behind a thick tree trunk, a man in a cloak stood at the street corner, and another man changed his coat seven or eight times and walked back and forth in front of Anastasia more than a dozen times.

These three people had one thing in common: they were all observing Anastasia, the strange woman who appeared in front of the apartment building.

Clearly, the three of them were responsible for protecting Mike Montagu.

Anastasia had spotted them long ago, but she didn't approach them to communicate or explain anything; she didn't need any companions.

The three men didn't come over either. They just felt that Anastasia's behavior was a bit strange and there was no need to take action for the time being.

And so Anastasia continued to sit lazily on the bench, sometimes looking up at the sky, sometimes closing her eyes for a nap.

The three were still the same as before: one hid behind a tree, one lurked at a street corner, and the last one changed his clothes several times and walked back and forth in front of Anastasia a few more times.

Time never stops. The sun, hanging high in the sky, gradually sets in the west, and a fiery red glow appears on the distant horizon, like the blushing cheeks of a young girl.

At that moment, the doors of the apartment building along the river opened again, and a man and a woman walked out of the building, embracing each other.

The man was tall and handsome, and the woman nestled in his arms had a stunning figure and luscious red lips. The two were chatting and laughing, looking very affectionate.

As a man and a woman appeared, the man hiding behind the tree put his right hand into his pocket, while the man hiding at the street corner put his hands together as if in prayer. The men walking around also stopped and looked at Anastasia sitting on the bench from a distance.

The three men would attack Anastasia if she showed any aggressive tendencies.

Anastasia ignored the three of them, her gaze fixed on the man who had just walked out of the apartment.

It seems that Mike Montagu, this rich young master, is in pretty good physical condition. It's a shame he didn't leave the apartment at this hour; it's a real shame he's not a sucker.

Soon, a horse-drawn carriage rumbled in and stopped in front of the apartment building.

The stunning woman climbed into the carriage and reluctantly said goodbye to Mike Montagu outside.

Mr. Montague also looked reluctant to leave, but as soon as the carriage carried the lady away, his expression changed drastically, making him a prime example of a scumbag.

Anastasia, sitting on the bench, smiled; she thought Mike Montagu was quite an interesting man.

He comes from a good family, is handsome, and physically strong. Most importantly, he's ruthless and doesn't care about people once he's done his bidding. It's a shame he didn't become a stage actor.

At this moment, Mike seemed to notice Anastasia as well, but he did nothing, merely glancing at her before quickly leaving.

Anastasia tossed the empty bag and beer can into a nearby trash can and got up to follow.