After taking a stroll around the house of that small-time fugitive named "York Smith"—no, he should be called "York Castalano"—
his father's generation had already passed away, but the house wasn't empty. His brother's family lived there, seven or eight people in total, leaving him only a single room.
His father was the previous generation's "chieftain" in the tribe, so his brother was doing alright, considered a foreman in the factory.
He himself was somewhat like those talents in modern society who could go to big cities and make a name for themselves. He couldn't return home many times throughout the year, but when he did, he seemed quite generous with the gifts he brought back, making him the "successful" type in the eyes of the "neighborhood."
However, with Wayne's arrival and his accusation of being the murderer in a Richmond criminal case, this guy could be considered to have suffered a bit of "social death."
Unfortunately, in the eyes of his family, white-skinned guys like Wayne obviously weren't very trustworthy. Perhaps they also felt that "white-skinned law might not be fair" or something like that.
Wayne looked at the dust accumulation in the room and figured the guy probably hadn't returned here. He had Liam pack up a few things that might have the guy's fingerprints, and then planned to continue "casually strolling around," preparing to pretend to unintentionally check out the place where Liam had spotted a group gathering last night.
Several of the community's indigenous "wardens" had already left, each going to inquire for information. The remaining people continued to accompany him, and even called over a young boy to act as a guide, leading Wayne in front.
Wayne had heard about this in class. It was said to be a traditional custom in their tribe.
For example, when they caught colonial captives in the past, if they didn't want to meticulously mince them this time, they would often have a child come forward to communicate with the outsiders after the adults had played the stern role, believing that this would make the outsiders feel sincere and safe—it was rumored that the indigenous princess of that time was deceived and taken away by the Windsor colonist masters under such circumstances.
It's unknown if the indigenous people had "learned from their mistakes," or if they felt that Wayne's level wasn't high enough. Anyway, Wayne didn't have the chance to meet the tribe's little princess this time. Instead, a young boy named Ollie came.
Ollie looked only half a head taller than Emma, with the deep brown skin of a wild child, still carrying a bit of childishness in his composure. Wayne pretended to blindly point in a direction and said he wanted to see the indigenous people's industries, so he hopped and skipped ahead to lead the way.
The indigenous people's handicraft workshops had a fairly rich product line. In addition to various tobaccos claimed to use indigenous methods, there were also strange hats with bird feathers, uniquely shaped wooden masks, and various strange and distinctive weapons, such as traditional bows and arrows, as well as indigenous war clubs that could smash dog heads. These could all be bought by white masters to hang on their walls for decoration.
Lina even tried out the "javelin" that Inisa had just explained last night. The pretty blonde girl swung the short club and threw the thin spear. Accuracy aside, at least the scene was pretty good. Some of the young indigenous artisans who had been dispersed and told not to watch were still gathering around in the distance, craning their necks to watch.
Wayne also tried a couple of times. This thing was easier to use than expected. If the position was right, stabbing it into prey would probably cause internal injuries.
"Clang!"
Soon after, a javelin was hit so far off course by Wayne that it broke through the skin-covered window and flew into a wooden house connected to the woodworking workshop.
Liam was about to run over like a lackey to find it when a sturdy indigenous man immediately stepped forward, blocking his path while muttering something.
The little guide Ollie also muttered a couple of sentences, then turned his head to explain to Wayne, "That area is the workshop's non-public area. Some crafts need to be kept secret. No need to trouble your people. I'll go get the javelin for you."
That's where Liam found the entrance to the basement last night. Wayne had deliberately knocked the thing over there.
Hearing this, Wayne took on the airs of a "white master": "We're here in the community today to investigate. Is there something we can't see there?"
Ollie was a little embarrassed, but the several community "wardens" following behind quickly spoke in their language. After hearing this, the indigenous man reluctantly stepped aside, even spitting on the ground to the side with a hint of sarcasm.
Then Ollie smiled again, making a "please" gesture to Liam, "Please, our community certainly welcomes gentlemen to visit."
Liam's dog-acting-mighty demeanor seemed almost unfeigned. He triumphantly banged on the wooden door twice to open the latch, then pushed it open with a "nose in the air" attitude, walking inside.
Then, when he walked out again holding the javelin, he crept up to Wayne's ear a bit furtively, pretending to say a secret to Wayne with an expression that seemed to say, "I just discovered something."
Wayne quickly walked toward the wooden house. Besides the few of them, the community "wardens" also quickly followed. Some of the artisans in the workshop also seemed to sense something was wrong, and some had already slowly gathered around.
The light in the wooden house was dim. Liam pointed at a shelf, and Wayne signaled with his eyes. A community "warden" reluctantly directed the artisans outside to come and help. The shelf was moved away, the wooden door was lifted open, and then earthen steps leading down were revealed.
"This below is a cellar. Some of the oil paints and coatings we use need to be fermented…" A community "warden" next to him tried to explain.
The hinge of the wooden door was made of a whole log, and it felt like with such a primitive design, people shouldn't be blocked to death down there.
Wayne continued to keep a straight face, raising his hand to stop the other party, "Do you have kerosene lamps?"
"Yes, yes."
Having said that, two half-new kerosene lamps were quickly handed over.
Several community "wardens" seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at the same time, echoing with smiles, "Thank you for your understanding."
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In the vision of simple lines, there seemed to be some remnants of extraordinary power here, but not much.
After checking for a while, Wayne led the way upstairs while continuing to try to get closer to the "wardens":
"I don't care about matters of faith, but I won't tolerate matters of law. I hope you can also cooperate with our work and not do things like harboring criminals."
"Of course, we and our tribesmen will definitely do our best."
Back on the ground, Doug's parrot had been caught by several indigenous people, hanging upside down by its claws in someone's hand and cursing "Hua Q," trying to peck people but being restrained by the back of its neck.
"Chameleon" had returned and was waiting nearby. The indigenous people didn't listen to him, not putting the parrot down, but also not harming the parrot out of consideration for his skin color.
"Boss, we've confirmed that after seeing the warrant from the cathedral, the priest here has had the sheriff notify the community to be sealed off according to your request, temporarily prohibiting all indigenous people from leaving. Conner and Mr. Doug have also arrived. They are currently cooperating with Miss Inisa on the periphery to monitor, and shouldn't let anyone run away."
Since that's the case, let's start the formal search.
