Try Begging - Chapter 150.1
Wednesday, 2 PM at Dahlia Cafe in Dunwich.
Grace had been in the central city of Dunwich for a few days trying to locate Cafe Dahlia. She had asked taxi drivers and even bought a local phone book to look around, and it seemed she had finally found it.
The middle-aged man seated behind her seemed out of place in an urban cafe like this. Although they hadn’t met before, he already emitted the distinct air of a ‘comrade.’
She quietly sighed as she listened to the noise coming from the man behind her.
The top of the pyramid had already collapsed, but those at the bottom were still deceiving and being deceived. It was possible that the escaped leaders were trying to rebuild the pyramid. The more she knew, the more she realized her mother had been right.
A cult group, no different.
While her eyes continued to scan the newspaper, Grace paused when she spotted another suspicious ad looking for a ‘butcher.’ She pulled a pencil and notebook out of her handbag.
‘Thursday… 10 AM…’
The ad ended with several phone numbers listed. It was a code where each number was assigned a letter, and Grace, having used such codes exhaustively in the past, began to decode it immediately.
“Phew…”
She sighed as she deciphered the location.
‘Really… do I have to go all the way there?’
It was a location that required over four hours by train.
‘Please, gather in one place, will you?’
As she was internally complaining, the waiter approached with a tray holding her cream tea set. Grace quickly tucked the newspaper and notebook back into her handbag.
“Here is your cream tea. Please let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you.”
The waiter graciously poured the tea, which had a perfect red hue. She added milk from the creamer, and white clouds billowed in the red teacup.
‘They use good tea leaves.’
After adding a generous amount of sugar and stirring, she took a sip of the milk tea and picked up a scone from the plate. The aroma was delightful. As she began to spread strawberry jam on one half of the warm scone, the baby inside her, stirred by the sweets, started causing a ruckus again.
‘Alright, wait.’
She took a bite of the scone with a thick layer of clotted cream on top of strawberry jam.
“Welcome.”
The sound of the door opening behind her echoed. Grace glanced back discreetly, and as expected, a young man in attire that hardly suited the place stood at the doorway, scanning the interior.
‘Here he is.’
As the waiter approached, the young man shook his head and started walking towards Grace’s direction. She turned back and took another bite of her scone.
Behind her, the brief exchange of words about looking for a butcher ended with the sound of a chair being dragged. The two began whispering initially, though gradually spoke in voices loud enough for Grace to overhear easily.
‘A hungry pregnant woman munching on a scone wouldn’t seem suspicious or intimidating at all.’
By the time Grace was applying jam and clotted cream to the other half of her scone, their conversation had shifted towards the purpose of their meeting.
“There are three of us, including me.”
“It might be cramped, but we can manage up to three. Where are the other two now?”
“About an hour away by tram from here…”
The men planned to bring the rest of their group and meet again in the area that night. Grace quickly finished her tea and pulled out four gold coins from her wallet to leave on the table.
She left the cafe before them, stepping outside and waiting behind the corner of two buildings down the street, keeping an eye on the cafe entrance. Soon, the young man exited and walked away in the opposite direction.
After about two minutes, the middle-aged man finally appeared outside the cafe.
Just as he was walking in her direction, Grace swiftly opened her purse and grabbed something. As the man turned the corner and passed by, she turned her back and pretended to touch up her makeup.
‘Makeup is such a hassle, really.’
Noticing the smudged lipstick in the compact mirror, she quickly pulled out her lipstick and refilled the gaps, glancing sideways towards the end of the alley. The man, unaware of being followed, continued his walk nonchalantly into the distance.
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