"I know! I know!" The fatty shivered, "There's this one family who's pretty jumpy, and I know this—they deal drugs too!"
Avi Eisman's eyes lit up, "Lead the way."
The guide strode ahead, sensing eyes peering out from the house, fully aware that he was now inextricably tied to the Northern Army. If they fell, these people would surely find a way to kill him.
People who betray the slum's rules, all must die!
Fatty brought Avi Eisman and his men to the entrance of a two-story building, pointing and saying, "The owner here is..."
This house obviously held some power; it even had a small yard.
There was a hound at the door, which, instead of being frightened by the crowd outside, stood up and snarled aggressively, held back only by a chain...but its eyes were blood-red, as if longing to devour someone.
"Knock on the door," Avi Eisman nodded.
A corporal went over and banged on the door hard, "Open up, comrade, I bring warmth."
There was no response despite several calls.
