Chapter 211 The Poker Box
Elbert chuckled softly, hiding his amusement.
He rose slowly from his seat. "Quentin, come on. Have a seat."
"No way! I can't show my face anywhere after that!" Quentin exclaimed, sounding shameful.
"Quentin, at least have some grub. We've got plenty of meat."
"No, I said I can't show my face!"
"How about a beer then?"
"No! I brought my own!"
Quentin whipped a flask from his belt, popped the lid, and drank its remaining contents.
A single, lonely drop dribbled down his chin.
He stared longingly at the stacks of beer beside the campfire.
He licked his lips, his throat bobbing.
Elbert took a sip of his own drink. "I checked those guys we took down. Eighteen of them, and not a single one had that clown tattoo on their wrist."
Quentin's demeanor shifted subtly.
He let out a dramatic sigh. "Well, since you went through all that trouble for my little request..."
"I guess I'll grace you with my presence." He grinned, his eyes twinkling.
He came and took a can of beer, downing it in one go.
"Now that's what I'm talking about!"
"Easy there, kid. Let's put the brawling aside for tonight and just enjoy a drink together, eh?" Elbert chuckled.
Quentin, already halfway through another can, just grunted in response.
This guy could really hold his liquor.
He grabbed a hunk of beef and tore into it. "Holy moly, this is amazing!"
"Never had barbecue this good in my life. Paul Three, I'll give you this. You're a better cook than I am."
"But that's the only thing you're better at!" he added quickly. "Don't get any ideas!"
Elbert just shook his head, smiling.
Quentin had been fighting all night; no wonder he was famished.
The three of them ate and drank heartily under the starlit sky.
Even Summer, who was usually a lightweight, had finished a can of beer after Quentin's persistent toasts. Now, she was working on her second.
"Quentin," Elbert began, his tone turning serious. "Tell me what you know about the Card Club."
"Hmm?" Quentin mumbled through a mouthful of fish. "Deck of cards, 54 members, bunch of middlemen running around passing messages and gathering supplies."
"Who's the mastermind behind it all?"
"No clue. Never seen his face. He's got this go-between, Mr. Kofi, who relays all the orders."
Elbert nodded slowly.
It was obvious they were using 'Revelation' to communicate. Since 'Revelation' required a physical object as a conduit, their gatherings were spread out.
"You trying to find the top dog?" Quentin asked, looking up from his food.
"Yeah."
"Got any leads?"
Elbert fixed his gaze on Quentin.
If they wanted to stop the Card Club's harassment, they needed to strike at the source.
"I tracked one of the middlemen once," Quentin said between bites of meat.
"And?" Elbert leaned forward, intrigued.
"Turns out he was just some guy paid 20 euros to deliver a package."
"However..." Quentin paused for dramatic effect.
"I tracked his handler!"
He took a swig of beer. "Found out he was just another cog in the machine. Got 50 euros for passing on a message."
Elbert grabbed Quentin's arm, stopping him from reaching for another beer. "If you don't have anything useful to add, lay off the booze for a sec."
Quentin pouted. "But..."
"I tracked that guy's handler too! And guess what? He got a whopping 100 euros!"
"But wait, there's more! I finally managed to track down the handler's handler's handler!"
"This guy wasn't even getting paid in cash; He got a coded message through a wireless telegraph machine. That's how they were sending the target information!"
"But get this, the guy goes and poisons himself right in front of me. I spent ages fiddling with that busted telegraph, but it was hopeless!"
"So, I smashed it to bits and gave up."
Quentin finished his story and quickly grabbed another beer while Elbert was distracted, guzzling it down.
"Where did you find this telegraph machine?" Elbert asked, his mind racing.
"Victoria, Dek State," He mumbled, already reaching for another beer. "Not like it matters. Victoria's huge, Dek State's huge! Millions of people are there! Finding this Mr. Box is like finding a needle in a haystack!"
"Moreover, their anti-tracking methods are insane. It's impossible!"
Elbert fell silent, deep in thought.
'Using physical objects to transmit information through Revelation, hiring tons of unwitting people to transport them, and communicating solely through coded telegraphs...'
He had to admit, it was a clever system.
Moreover, they made sure to choose routes without surveillance, making it impossible for even Robert to predict their movements.
However, Quentin had just given them a crucial piece of the puzzle.
Just then, Robert materialized beside them, looking every bit the clandestine operative.
He shook his head. "Wireless telegraphy; fascinating stuff. Been around since the 1830s. Works by transmitting currents of different frequencies and wavelengths between antennas."
"Amplify that weak current, and voila; you've got yourself a message in Morse code using long and short signals."
"But here's the thing: a small transmitting antenna like the one you described only has a signal range of maximum 1000 kilometers."
"Which means we can easily narrow down the location of the sender. As for tracking those radio waves... That's child's play, my friend. Child's play."
"The entire Victoria region is blanketed by Doppler radar. And guess what its primary function is? Radio detection and ranging!"
"Give me a few hours, Elbert."
Elbert nodded, slowly grinning.
The Card Club might be unorthodox, but with Robert on their side, their secrets wouldn't stay hidden for long.
He turned back to Quentin. "You've given us more than enough to go on."
"Humph." Quentin puffed out his chest, trying to appear nonchalant. "I know you're tough, Paul Three, but if even I couldn't crack this case, what makes you think you can?"
"You should be more worried about that death order they put out on you."
"Yeah, about that..." Quentin's usual bravado faltered slightly. "Let's see, 6 plus 9 plus 18 plus 7..." He counted on his fingers. "We took out 40 of their assassins, which leaves 13 still out there. Most of them are small fry, but the four Aces are still unaccounted for."
"And then there are the Card Club's two trump cards," he added, his eyes fearful. "They call them the closest things to God; the Black Joker and the Color Joker."
"They haven't been seen in years, but rumor has it their power is beyond anything we've ever encountered."
"The Color Joker surfaced once, two years ago. Wiped out an entire special forces unit, 1000 men, in the blink of an eye."
"Didn't even give them a chance to fire a single shot."
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