Chapter Six: The Blanc Gang

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London, Lambeth, Route 707.

Xia Xiu stepped off the steam train, dressed in a white trench coat with a brown vest underneath, and wearing a white Panama hat. He reached up to adjust his hat, then glanced at the sign pointing to Central Street before heading toward his destination.

Ever since learning that the Deer Academy was recruiting new students, and that its first stop was London, Xia Xiu had changed his plans. He now intended to join the Deer Academy through its recruitment process.

The Deer Academy, founded in the year 350 of the Terra Calendar, is located in the southeastern part of Three Portland. It is a co-educational liberal arts college. The academy is renowned not only for pioneering the integration of occult studies with liberal arts education but also for its high standards in magical practice, creative thinking, and its active role in the multiverse as responsible citizens.

Students at the Deer Academy pursue Bachelor of Arts degrees in over 40 majors across key fields. The curriculum includes a year-long course in occult studies, with extensive distribution requirements and a graduation thesis. Each student crafts their own study plan by combining a traditional major with a focus on occult fields or by choosing from established interdisciplinary majors.

The Deer Academy is one of the few institutions willing to accept and educate individuals of various lineages and has maintained a relatively neutral political stance. Many notable figures from Terra have been students there; among the twelve seats of the London Clock Tower, four seat holders studied at the Deer Academy.

Unlike the Clock Tower, which emphasizes bloodlines and extraordinary talents, the Deer Academy is even willing to admit ordinary people, provided they possess some special gift, such as outstanding literary talent.

Xia Xiu’s goal was to obtain admission to the Deer Academy. There were three ways to gain entry.

The first method involved a magical creation called the “Spirit Recognition Owl,” which carried a magic envelope inscribed with “Directed Cognition Instructions” to individuals with potential for magical abilities. Those who opened and read the envelope naturally knew how to reach the academy.

The second was the recommendation system—well-known and favored by those with connections.

The third was a random selection, where a few lucky individuals were chosen due to the whims of the mayor of Three Portland.

Xia Xiu dismissed the first and third methods as unlikely for himself. Only the second method matched his needs, and he happened to know someone with recommendation privileges in London. His purpose was to pay respects and seek endorsement.

Lambeth slums.

Though it was midday, a fine mist still hung over the streets. To the east lay the industrial district. Looking up, one could see dark clouds of smoke. The people around eyed Xia Xiu with strange expressions.

“Filthy bitch! How many times have I told you not to squash bugs on the wallpaper? Do you think you own the whole inn? Why can’t you toss them out the window like everyone else? Damn you, you cheap slut!”

“Cow!”

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Passing by a small inn, raucous curses rang out. Many idle drunks holding nearly empty bottles laughed boisterously. Alongside the quarrels were the forlorn cries of street vendors and the playful shouts of children chasing orange peels on the cobblestone streets.

At night, loud singing filled the air. When garbage trucks passed by, a foul stench lingered—this was the character of the entire street.

The street was narrow—tall, filthy buildings leaned precariously on both sides, as if frozen in the act of collapsing. All the buildings operated as small inns, packed with tenants—mostly workers, those in special trades, and thieves. Below the inns were taverns where one could get utterly drunk for just a few central coins.

On weekend nights, one-third of the men here would be drunk, often fighting over women. Laborers living in the cheapest inns constantly fought among themselves, swinging chairs and sometimes even resorting to guns.

Despite the grime and noise, some respectable Londoners lived here—small shop owners, bakers, and laundresses. They kept to themselves and quietly saved every penny.

This was a typical London slum.

Xia Xiu walked through the curious stares of passersby toward the darkest part of the slum—a haven for gangs, where addictive drugs were sold, corpses were common sights, and the air was thick with sin.

The largest gang in Lambeth was the Blank Gang. Rumor had it their leader possessed supernatural powers, and some whispered that the Blank Gang members were not human but monsters in human skin.

Xia Xiu could only say that the rumors were partly true—most members were indeed not human.

The Blank Gang was a complex mix of wild occultists, werewolves, and ghosts—a huddle of monsters banded together to survive in London.

“Hey, kid over there, what do you want?” a rough-looking man blocked Xia Xiu’s path. Another shirtless man with a blue scarf stood beside him.

“Reese, don’t scare the kid. Hey, little guy, are you here looking for your mom? Want Uncle to take you home? My house is very big,” Kober joked, first chiding Reese with a smile before turning kindly toward Xia Xiu.

“Ha~”

Xia Xiu sighed helplessly. Such crude scenes were always boring; these gangs were as clichéd and dull as ever.

“Come on, kid, Uncle will show you some fun.”

Kober reached out to grab Xia Xiu, but Xia Xiu’s eyes flashed coldly. He raised his right elbow and struck Kober’s waist hard. Kober felt as if his chest had been hit by a massive log; he was lifted off the ground and flew backward.

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Kober clutched his abdomen, curling up like a mantis shrimp and vomiting foam on the ground.

“You damn—!”

Reese drew a dagger hanging from his back belt and stabbed toward Xia Xiu’s head. To Xia Xiu, the motion was painfully slow. To an occultist, even a novice’s speed made ordinary human movements seem like they were moving at half speed.

Xia Xiu sidestepped the thrust, then grasped Reese’s right hand holding the dagger and twisted it hard.

“Ah—” Reese howled in pain.

Xia Xiu grabbed the dropped dagger and threw Reese over his shoulder, slamming him onto the ground. He pressed his knee against Reese’s fallen body and drove the dagger forcefully toward his head.

Crunch—

Blood dripped. Reese stared in terror as the dagger sliced across his cheek. He looked up at the golden-haired youth pinning him down, whose delicate face was lit by a radiant smile, eyes narrowed so that his true emotions were unreadable.

Xia Xiu looked at the terrified gang member, then placed his right hand on the bleeding cheek and used flesh-shaping magic to stitch the wound closed.

“Sir, could you take me to see Mr. Stephen? I have a business matter to discuss with him,” Xia Xiu said politely, standing and holding his hat before his chest.

Reese touched his instantly healed wound in a daze, as if understanding something. This was someone with supernatural power, like their leader. Swallowing nervously, he hurriedly said,

“R-roar— I, I’ll guide you, sir.”