217 Chapter 17, The Widow and the Virgin

In the open space in the middle of the pier, dozens of private armed thugs were holding guns and aiming at the head of the gray-haired young man in the middle.

Hoffa shielded Chloe behind him with a bad look on his face.

"Wait a minute. Wait a moment. Don't, don't get excited."

Nervous voices came from far and near.

Hearing the sound, Hoffa turned his head and saw that the person who came was a young woman in her twenties.

She was wearing a black embroidered coat and a black top hat, her black hair was combed back and tied into a ponytail with a white ribbon, her skin was morbidly pale and tired, but still smooth and plump, she looked like A beautiful but decadent china doll.

"Frank is a woman?" Chloe asked in shock.

"No, can you shut up first."

He looked at the twenty-year-old woman in front of him and bowed slightly: "Long time no see, Mrs. Dean."

"Ahem. Matthew, this is Mr. Bach, a friend of Mr. Frank." The black-haired woman said to the supervisor, "Let them put away the weapons, Matthew."

friend

The supervisor named Matthew touched the blood that was blown out of his face, and waved his hand resentfully, and the armed thugs put away their weapons one after another.

"Thanks."

The restless brunette breathed a sigh of relief:

"Long time no see, Mr. Bach, who is this?"

She pointed to the nun.

"Chloe, my friend."

Hoffa said, "Let's find Frank."

"Are you looking for Frank?"

The woman's expression became a little dazed, Hoffa stretched out his hand and shook it in front of her, and she woke up suddenly, with an empty smile on her pale face, as tired as if she hadn't slept for three or four days.

"Okay, then come with me."

After the woman turned around, Hoffa whispered to Chloe:

"Frank has a wife named Mary who helps him with various chores."

"Is she the one who made those slaves?"

Chloe is still struggling.

"no."

Hoffa warned softly: "Listen, Frank is not a Muggle, he is a wizard in the gray area, ruthless. Driving these refugees does not have any psychological burden on him, just like other pure-blood wizards using house elves .”

He patiently explained it to her, but obviously these words had no effect on a nun like Chloe who had been growing up in the monastery.

"It's the twentieth century, why are there still people enslaving others openly?"

She said in a trembling voice.

Hoffa only thought that her idea was simple and ridiculous. These days, he and the nun got along pretty well, but this guy always has a bad problem. She always seems to be very serious about many inexplicable details.

When she was just on the road a few days ago, she insisted on sending them to a safe place because she met several stray dogs on the road, which delayed the whole day. Later, she had a whimsical idea and wanted to dig a hole for all the corpses that could be seen on the road.

Hoffa almost didn't go crazy. This was 1942. There were as many corpses on the side of the road as there were plastic bags in the 21st century. They were buried one by one, and by the time they got to Britain, the war would probably be over.

"What is the relationship between slaves and the era? If there is a need, it will exist, and existence is reasonable."

She stopped talking, and after a while, she sneered coldly: "Are all your friends like this? I thought people from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry should be friends with more promising people."

"This is not a monastery, don't let your temper come your way, and Frank is not a kind priest. If you annoy him, you can't borrow a boat, we."

"Okay, okay, I get it, don't talk too much."

The nun looked away with a troubled look.

Hoffa sighed secretly, thinking that this guy must not be allowed to meet a smuggler like Frank, otherwise he would have to fight as soon as he met.

Frank's house was behind a warehouse by the port, a vaulted stone-brick house with gray fabric stretched over thin steel cables. There was a door at each end of the porch, a plywood ceiling with occasional fluorescent rings, most of which were broken. The damp air smelled of embers and concrete.

The woman in black politely opened the door for the two of them.

Hoffa said to Chloe: "Don't go in, wait for me here."

Chloe snorted angrily, stood still and folded her arms.

Hoffa went into Frank's house alone with Mary.

Hundreds of candles were burning in the dimly lit room, and white wax oil was stacked everywhere like stratified rock. In front of him was a huge stone platform, and on the stone platform was a black lacquered marble coffin.

Hoffa had no idea that the first thing he saw after entering the door was such a picture. He turned his head involuntarily, and looked at the woman in black beside him in confusion.

"I didn't see Frank."

"promise,"

Mary whispered, "There."

Following her eyes, Hoffa looked at the sarcophagus, stared at it for a long time and then turned his head mechanically: "What are you talking about, where are the Franks?"

"It's right there."

After a pause, a sad expression appeared on her pale and tired face: "What a coincidence that you came, he just died yesterday."

There was absolute silence in the room.

Hoffa: "Excuse me. What did you say?"

"Go and see for yourself."

Mary looked away sadly.

He stepped forward quickly and stopped beside the marble coffin.

The words "Frank Dean" were pasted on the coffin. Inside the dark green square glass cover, an ancient copper lamp shone brightly, covering Frank's wrinkled old face.

Frank Dean was forty-five years old. He lay in a circle of not-so-fresh vegetation, haggard as an eighty-year-old man, covered in fish-scale tattoos.

Frank died?

Before he came, he thought about a hundred possibilities. He thought about what to do if Frank didn't want to lend him a boat. He thought about what to do if he was too snobby and the lion opened his mouth. What will happen to Germany.

But he didn't expect that he wrote to him last month, and he died this month.

This made Hoffa want to laugh for some reason.

From the first time he met this guy, he spent endless time in smuggling and all kinds of business. He is cunning and cautious by nature, and he is a well-known expert among gray wizards.

Don't die early, don't die late.

What should I do now, without a ship, the plan to go to England is simply a fantasy.

His eyes moved to one side of Frank's wife Mary, who was full of sorrow. Since he was dead, the matter of borrowing the boat should be brought up with his wife. But when the words came to his mouth, Hoffa was a little hard to say. It was too true that he came to ask for a boat as soon as someone else's husband died.

"How did you die?"

he asked in a heavy tone.

"I don't know, what kind of scary guy I met when I went to sea, and when I came back, when I was brought back by my subordinates, it already looked like this."

As she spoke, the woman covered her mouth with a handkerchief in unbearable grief.

Pointing to the middle part of the man's body.

Hoffa's eyes stopped in the middle. He vaguely saw that under the covering clothes, Frank's body was actually two pieces, and he was cut into two neatly.

It made his heart stop beating.

Such a sharp sword wound, could it be that the guy is nearby?

"My condolences are changing, ma'am." He patted the widow's shoulder and said politely and softly.

"It's okay. Excuse me. Mr. Bach is here. What's the matter?" The woman asked, wiping her tears.

"Oh, that's right, I came here because I wanted to"

Before he could explain his purpose clearly.

boom! !

A loud gunshot outside the house interrupted his plan to borrow a boat.

Screams and yells ensued: ". Put down the gun, you incompetent savage!!"

Hearing the voice, the faces of the two changed. Hoffa immediately left the young widow behind and hurried out of the darkroom.

A chaotic scene is happening outside the house at this moment. Several packages of unopened biscuits and bread are scattered on the concrete floor of the pier. A group of thin children lie on the ground like a herd of monkeys, scrambling to put the food on the ground like a pack of dogs vying for food. The mouth was stuffed, and some stuffed it too quickly, causing the soil to be eaten into the mouth.

On the side, several heavily armed men held their guns high, trying to pull the children away who were scrambling for food. Among them, the armed thug who looked like a baboon picked up a refugee child by the collar without hesitation, dragged him up, and smashed him heavily on the ground.

Chloe tried to push the armed thugs away with her hands, but it backfired. The man with the appearance of a baboon didn't intend to stop at all. He pushed back and pushed the nun to the ground heavily.

boom!

He then fired another shot into the sky, trying to scare the nun away. But the nun turned over without hesitation and stood in front of him again, angrily, "What are you doing!?"

The man with the appearance of a baboon spat viciously on the ground: "It's me who should ask that! What are you doing on my territory?"

"I'll distribute some food to them! Are you in charge?"

"Here, I say you can't eat, and no one is allowed to eat!"

"Who do you think you are, Caesar?"

"you!"

"enough!!"

Hoffa looked at the group of children scrambling for food on the ground like wild dogs, and wondered what happened with his ass.

This motherly nun didn't listen to her words at all. As soon as she left, she made a big mess.

He rushed forward, pushed the supervisor away with one hand, and protected Chloe behind him with the other.

"Take care of your bitch!"

The armed thug hit Hoffa on the forehead angrily.

Hoffa was furious. At this moment, he didn't like Chloe, and he didn't like the baboon in front of him even more. But he still had to borrow a boat, so he couldn't tear himself apart from the smuggler's subordinates for the time being, so he could only stare back fiercely.

At this time, the young widow also came out. Seeing the chaos at the scene, she covered her mouth with an exclamation, and immediately retreated into the room.

The nun saw her and turned to meet her.

"Why don't you take care of your men?" she asked in the same way, and the armed thugs on the side were furious.

"Uh this, I, I. That's not"

A twenty-year-old woman was aggressively questioned by a girl three or four years younger than herself, and she stuttered and couldn't speak a word.

"Are you indifferent to watching those children starve to death?" The nun took out her best moral condemnation.

"I. No."

The young widow's face was dark and ashamed, as if she was very regretful because of her negligence. She shed tears and looked at her subordinates for help.

The baboon boy Matthew puffed up his chest, strutting in front of the widow Mary, and angrily scolded Chloe: "Crazy, we don't care if they live or die, what has something to do with you?"

He sneered at the nun: "We didn't cause them to fall to this point, and we didn't force them to live here."

Hearing what she said, the widow breathed a sigh of relief, showing a relieved expression. After calming down a little, she showed a wry smile again:

"Matthew, that's not right."

"Mary."

"You go to work. Leave it to me here."

Matthew snorted coldly, gave a warning thumbs up to Chloe and Hoffa, and then led his men away in twos and threes.

After leaving, Mary pulled Chloe's wrist very embarrassingly, and said anxiously: "It was my negligence, I will pay attention, Your Excellency."

"At least you should give them a helping hand. It doesn't look like you are short of food."

"Yes, I was negligent."

"Where is that guy named Frank, who is he to you?"

"He is my husband."

The widow stammered.

(She talks to Chloe, looking at Hoffa out of the corner of her eye.)

The nun wanted to say something more, but Hoffa dragged her without saying a word, and dragged her to a corner without resistance. Forcibly took her away from Frank's morgue.

The group of armed thugs who had left earlier were gathering at the corner to smoke. When Hoffa and Chloe passed by, the baboon-like thug hit Chloe with a shoulder and yelled loudly on purpose. : "Jesus, how did this kind of person live so long!?"

The group of armed thugs roared with laughter when Chloe looked back angrily.

Coming to the corner of the pier, Chloe shook off Hoffa's arm, her chest heaving.

"What's the matter with you?" Hoffa said bitterly like a father educating his daughter: "Didn't I tell you not to worry about it?"

Chloe didn't speak, just stared at him, as if she decided that he and Frank were the same.

"What look do you have?"

She turned her head, not even answering.

"If you are like this, we will part ways here." Hoffa threatened duplicity.

"I didn't ask you to send it!"

"Hehe!" Huo Fa raised his brows upside down, "You are really capable."

"Can't you stand by my side and speak for me?"

"Let me help you talk, who will be responsible if you can't borrow a boat?"

"I thought your relationship with that Frank would be stronger."

Hoffa thought to himself that Frank was dead, no matter how good the relationship was, it was useless.

At this time, there were subtle footsteps behind him.

He turned around quickly.

It wasn't the thugs, but a few sallow and emaciated children, hiding in the shadow of the building furtively, their eyes flashed with hunger.

"War Orphans."

Hoffa sighed. No one cared about the lives of these children who were displaced by the war. Frank kept them, I'm afraid it was just to increase his bargaining chips to enslave those adults.

He reached into his pocket. This action caused those peeping children to become agitated, some backed away in fear, and some hugged their heads.

But what Hoffa took out was not a weapon, but a chocolate bar. He held out his hand, gesturing for them to come and get it.

Seeing the food, the children rushed up one after another, grabbed the chocolate wrapping and stuffed it into their mouths before they could be opened. After wolfing down their food, they looked at the gray-haired boy eagerly, wanting more.

Hoffa touched the withered head of one of them, and said softly: "No more, come back tomorrow."

After getting an affirmative answer, the children whispered thanks, and walked away from the two of them step by step.

When he looked back, Chloe looked at him with a much kinder look, and he was no longer as disgusted as before.

Hoffa: "Why do you say you offended them?"

"I don't want to take the boat of these people at all." Chloe: "These guys are not good people at all, they don't even let children go."

Hoffa shook his head: "When the war is over, you will have plenty of opportunities to save them, but now, none of us can care about it."

"But."

"There is nothing but, we are not here for charity, the German wizards are still looking for us everywhere, we must leave this land as soon as possible. Do you understand?"

Chloe pouted, not seeming to understand.