Leaving the alley behind, and a few steps from the Beggers' line, then turning left after passing three old, closed shops, Flynn and Nicolas walked past gaslights, which casted shadows alongside the fog covering the streets. They turned towards an old alley and emerged onto a narrow road. Brick Lane, bustling with merchants and traders, lay before them—a direct path to Bethnal Green.
Although midnight, the lane had its own type of daytime; The sound of horses' hooves and murmuring crowds filled the air, alongside the clangs of pots from a nearby market stall, and cries of vendors in the air.
"Young lad, fresh fish from Riverbend! Its flavor intact! Delivered thirty minutes ago!" a vendor called to Flynn, who shook his head, declining the offer.
Each side to another, a vendor, a hawker, something to entice another, brought forth the noise of the night.
"Where is this?" Flynn turned to Nicolas, who showed zero care regarding the noise.
