Journey to another world in the subway

Chapter 45 Bald Head
There are rows of shelves along the criss-crossing railroad tracks, and tents are scattered all over the platform.

Some of them are shops, others are mostly used as people's residences.Some are printed with letters, which are places for travelers to stay overnight.

Su Mengfan walked towards the crowd, looked to both sides, and noticed a huge blue train parked on the track on the left. It was so dilapidated that there were only three carriages in total.

There is an indescribably noisy feeling in the station, it seems that the people here cannot be quiet for a moment.

They just kept talking, shouting, singing, arguing fiercely, crying and laughing, and there was a burst of music mixed with the hustle and bustle, which gave the underground life here an unusual festive atmosphere.

At Hayabusa Station, there were also people singing with high spirits, but the situation there was completely different from here, and there were only a few people playing guitar.

He remembers some Afghan folk songs particularly well.

That's what Cage loves to sing--though there's not much incomprehensible in the songs, they're all about the grief of losing a friend and the hatred of an enemy.

Cage sang so well that everyone who heard him sing these songs was deeply moved.

Cage explained to Su Mengfan that Afghanistan is a wonderful country, and he described its mountains, canyons, mountain streams, villages, helicopters and gorgeous coffins.

Even Cage had never been to Afghanistan when he was too young to hear the songs from his old military friends.

Is the music here really the same as the one at Hayabusa Station?

No, Hayabusa Station's songs are mournful, like Andrea and his melancholy ballads.

Listening to the cheerful and lively melodies in this hall again, Su Mengfan was surprised to find that they were so different in comparison, but how touching these musics were!

Walking near the music performer closest to him, Su Mengfan stopped unconsciously and joined the crowd, one was to hear the tunnel adventure story, and the other was to listen to the music.

He looked curiously at the people who played the music, and there were two men: one with long, greasy hair, a leather belt tied to his forehead, and a strange colorful rag, with a guitar clanging.

The other was an elderly, balding man in appearance, wearing glasses that had obviously been repaired many times, and a faded old jacket, who was amusing his wife with a wind instrument Khan called a saxophone. listeners.

It has been a long time since Su Mengfan has heard music played by the saxophone.

His preferred wind instrument is the music pipe. Some people know how to play this kind of instrument that is made of insulating pipes cut into different diameters, but the people at Hayabusa station don't like music pipes.

They're usually made for sale, and that thing sounds a bit like a saxophone, and sometimes the siren accidentally gets blocked and broken, and it's also used as a temporary replacement for the siren.

Next to the player is an open guitar case containing a dozen cassettes.

After the long-haired man sang his song, he said some funny things and made some funny faces. People laughed and clapped happily, so a coin fell on the player's head with a dang. in the box.

The vagabond song about the poor devil is over, the guy with the long hair is relaxing against the wall, and the saxophonist in the jacket goes on to play an unfamiliar theme for Su Mengfan.

But it clearly caught on here, as people started applauding and a few more coins flew through the air into the player's box.

Su Mengfan stayed there for another hour, listening to simple songs. If the performance hadn't been forcibly interrupted suddenly, he would have continued to stand there and listen.

Two strong men suddenly staggered up to the performer. They looked very much like the thugs Su Mengfan and Nathaniel had seen at the entrance of the station, and they also wore similar clothes.

A man came and squatted, unceremoniously took the coins from the box, and stuffed them into the pocket of his jacket.

The long-haired musician rushed at him, trying to stop him, but immediately received a hard blow on the shoulder, knocked him down, and the mob snatched his guitar from him, and he was going to throw it against the column.

As the elderly saxophonist tried to go to help his friend, another thug pushed him staggeringly against a wall with a little effort.

None of the audience standing around the musician intervened.The crowd had visibly thinned, and those who remained either covered their eyes or pretended to be looking at the merchandise on nearby shelves.

Su Mengfan was ashamed of them and himself, but he also decided not to interfere.

"You've already been here today!" the long-haired musician cried, raising his hands.

"Listen! When you're lucky, we're lucky, you know? Aren't you going to share it with us? Don't you want to go to the wagon? You hairy matchstick!"

The thug yelled and cursed at him, then threw the guitar at him—apparently he held it up and shook it around as a warning.

As soon as he heard the word "truck", the long-haired musician immediately stopped resisting and crying, shook his head like a rattle, and said nothing more.

"Understood... the matchstick?!" After the thug finished speaking, he spat at the long-haired musician's feet contemptuously, but the musician didn't dare to say anything.

Having suppressed these two wretches, the two thugs walked away without haste, and they went on to find another victim.

Su Mengfan was a little frustrated. He looked around and found a man with a shaved head standing beside him, watching this scene seriously.

"Where are those thugs coming from?" Su Mengfan asked in confusion.

"What do you think they look like?" The bald head asked back, "Actually, they are just ordinary bandits.

Ciudad de Gomes has no governing authority and only two groups control it.

This half is controlled by the Slavic brothers, where all the hooligans of the Krodzko-Rizskaya line gather, usually they are called Krodzk.

Some of them are also called Rizskaya, but you won't see such people at Kaluga or Riga stations.

But, there, you look over the little bridge," he pointed to the stairs in the middle of the platform that ran up to the right.

"There's another hall, exactly like this one. There's no such illegal operation over there, but it's run by the Caucasus Palaton - basically Aderbaijan and Shochen.

That used to be the focus of the territorial struggle between the two sides.In the end, they split the station in two from there. "

Baldhead's voice seemed a little hoarse.

Su Mengfan looked a little surprised when he saw that the bald head actually answered his own question.

The bald man on the opposite side didn't seem to see Su Mengfan's expression, and continued to speak.

"Now the two groups live in peace," the bald head continued. "They stop people who want to enter the station in Ciudad Gomes and collect taxes to make money."

"The cost is the same in both halls - three coins - so it doesn't matter which side you come in from.

Of course, there's no order here, and they don't need order, the only order is that you can't make a fire. "

"If you want to buy some tobacco? Go ahead. Want some booze? Buy as much as you want. You want to arm yourself with weapons that take over half the subway system? No problem.

It is still common to sell Y here, but I don't agree with this kind of thing. ’ he murmured a personal opinion, a little awkwardly.

"What's that truck?"

"The van? It's their headquarters.

If anyone doesn't listen to them, refuses to pay, owes them money or anything like that, then they get you in there.

There's a prison and a torture chamber inside - the van is like a debt pit, best not to go in there!

are you hungry? "The bald head changed the subject.

Su Mengfan nodded.

God knows how long it had been since he and the old man had tea at Smogli Station.

Without a clock, he has lost the ability to tell time.

His journey through the tunnel, full of strange experiences, could have lasted a long time, or could it have been just a few minutes?Or maybe a few months?Su Mengfan couldn't judge.

Time in the tunnel is very different from other places.

Anyway, Su Mengfan really wanted to eat, he looked around.

"Skewers! Hot kebabs!" cried a swarthy businessman standing nearby, with an abruptly arched nose under thick black eyebrows.

His pronunciation is a bit weird, he doesn't pronounce the plosive "K" and uses an "o" sound instead of the "a" sound.

Su Mengfan has seen people with unusual intonations before, but he has never paid special attention to it like this time.

Su Mengfan is very familiar with this word.

Their Hayabusa Station also sells meat skewers. Su Mengfan likes to eat them, but he likes pork ones.

But here, no matter how the businessman swung it, something didn't feel right.

Su Mengfan looked carefully for a long time, and finally recognized that it was a twisted mouse corpse with scorched paws, which made him feel dizzy.

"You don't eat rats?" the bald head asked him sympathetically.

"Hello!" He nodded to the swarthy businessman.

"They won't give you pork, but rats are edible," the bald man explained, examining the grill hungrily.

"I used to be disgusted too, now I'm used to it. Of course, there's a bit of cruelty, they're such small critters.

Also, they have a little smell.But these Obocks," he glanced at the grill owner again.

"Know how to cook rats, no one can beat them. They soak rats in something to make them soft like suckling pigs and put spices in them! Delicious and cheaper!"

Su Mengfan covered her mouth with her palm, took a deep breath, and tried to think of something else to distract her.

But the blackened carcasses of rats on spits were always loitering before his eyes: the spits went in behind the corpses and came out of the little rats' open mouths.

"Whatever you want, this is delicious! So come here together, three coins a bunch!" The bald head decided, and walked towards the grill while talking.

Su Mengfan said hello to the bald head, saying that he was going to walk around the station to find something else to eat.

(End of this chapter)