typeface
large
in
Small
Turn off the lights
Previous bookshelf directory Bookmark Next

Chapter 20 Parties and Bars

"Don't you know how to fix it yourself?"

Evan Ston has always been a rather magical person in the East End, especially people in the garment factory. They all know that his words seem to have magic power. They are obviously very normal words and are not mixed with vulgar words.

There is no yin and yang element, but once paired with his extremely decadent face, which exudes negativity everywhere, you will get angry inexplicably and want to beat this man.

"Stay the same as before, keep it as it is now, and then help me strengthen the thread. His left hand may have become loose again..." But Helen, who has known Mr. Ston for many years, obviously has her own

A set of coping methods.

She ignored Evan, who was looking at him with a pair of dead fish eyes, but instead ignored the other party's question and made her request directly.

Evan, who was ignored when he spoke, was surprised. He snorted and took out a brush from the drawer of the old wooden table. He first wiped it with a towel, and then carefully wiped it hidden in the fur of the bear doll.

of dust.

"What on earth did you take him for?"

"Why is it all ashes and slime on you?"

"I made some extra money, got rid of a disgusting and annoying person, and grabbed a good thing." Although her body became a little weak because she could not replenish her flesh and blood in time after the battle, Helen was in a good mood and tidy at this time.

The willow eyebrows were raised, adding a touch of vitality to the beautiful and haggard face.

While listening to Helen's show off with a rising tone, Evan held the needle with his left hand and the thread with his right hand. He squinted and put the thread end through the eye of the silver needle, and made a needle with a familiarity.

"Sounds good, so when are you going to pay me back and settle the bill you owe me?"

As we all know, Loen is a country that pays attention to reservations, but that is compared to reservations in the world of fame and fortune. Among the civilian class, in daily life, most communication methods still tend to be straightforward, such as Evan Stone

This sentence hits the nail on the head and directly points to the core of the problem.

Although she had been mentally prepared, Helen was still gagged and was a little annoyed when she was unable to elicit what she had earned. The low murmur that had been echoing in her ears suddenly became clear, making her blood vessels pound.

She took a deep breath, relied on her more than twenty years of experience, and took the initiative to suppress her desire to listen to the murmurs. She took out a silver-white necklace and a branded broad sword from her wide dark red robe.

The miniature medal with the pattern was gently patted on the wooden table.

"Look at what these are and how much they are worth. Only after they are sold can I have the money to pay you back."

Evan, who had just inserted the silver needle into the left arm of the bear doll, was a little surprised, but he still obeyed the request of Helen, a big girl, and picked up the two things on the table.

After all, after five years of getting to know each other, he thought he understood Helen at a shallower level.

This seemingly cold-looking big girl may be an out-and-out monster who can eat people and has no respect for human life, but she also maintains the innocent side of a child and often feels happy or angry because of small things.

Somewhat unstable.

As a "provocateur", Evan could not defeat this natural "Rose Bishop", so he could only think of various ways to coax his children and avoid unnecessary conflicts.

He put on the glasses he usually used when repairing and making dolls, knocked his upper and lower front teeth together, silently turned on his spiritual vision, and carefully examined the spirituality attached to these two items.

After a while, Evan, who was looking a little straight, reluctantly put down the necklace in his hand and said with a hint of envy:

"A Sequence Seven Sealed Artifact. I can't tell the specific path, but it feels very similar to some Beyonders from the Church of the Night. It has the ability to command the undead. It can be purchased for about 4,000 pounds."

"The other one is not very valuable. It is probably a charm that has very little time left. It can only be used once. It seems to be from the 'Warrior' path. How much it sells depends purely on demand."

Helen, who had originally heard that an item could buy four thousand pounds, instinctively began to calculate how long she could eat by herself, suddenly smiled, her cheeks on both sides were puffed up by the air, and she felt a little depressed.

"Tsk, I should have stolen the one that was farther away..."

She didn't feel sad for long, and then she changed her mind and asked Evan, who had just picked up the silver needle again:

"When is the next meeting of the Eye of Wisdom?"

"Are you going?" Evan, who never concealed the fact that he was attending a gathering of extraordinary people, raised his eyebrows, and his threading movements suddenly became a little hesitant.

He thought for a few seconds, seemed to remember something, picked up the silver needle he held in his right hand, and then said with a normal expression:

"Next Monday, you can come with me. If you sell something, you will give me five pounds, which will be the interest on the debt that has been owed for so long."

............

"Do you know about Backlund's gathering of Beyonders?" Klein, who took off his black-rimmed glasses and was rubbing his face to combat the side effects of magical items, asked Ian beside him in a low voice, with surprise hidden in his tone.

Ian was tidying up the room and checking whether there were any mice in the bedding. Cockroach Ian nodded casually, glanced at Klein first, and after receiving a positive response from him, he also lowered his voice and said:

"I have attended several similar gatherings with Mr. Zerrell before, but I only know of two places where I have specific information."

"The convenor of the gathering in one place is very powerful, but the atmosphere of the whole party is relatively depressing; the gathering in the other place is relatively casual, but the convener is relatively weak and has much fewer resources."

A difficult store, a permanent store?

Klein quickly classified the two gatherings with a clear mind using the thinking he used in past entertainment games. However, to ensure safety, he still asked one more question. After all, gatherings of Beyonders in big cities may not be as loose as Tingen's.

It is even indirectly controlled by official extraordinary people.

"Do you know anything about the two callers of the party?"

Ian, who is serious about everything and very attentive, raised his head slowly and answered directly without even thinking:

"The more powerful one is called 'Mr. A', and the other is Mr. Eye of Wisdom."

"The main purpose of Mr. A's party is to see if there are obvious signs on the street lights near the Backlund Bridge. Usually near the pontoon, the date of the party will be written in graffiti; as for Mr. Eye of Wisdom's party, this is mainly in "Baikelund"

On the advertising page of Deutsche Post, there is a unique set of code words."

Ian, who has been serving as an intelligence worker for Detective Zerrell for many years, based on his past habits, familiarly added relevant information to help Klein better understand these two gatherings.

Mr. A! Klein, who had killed members of the Aurora Society and obtained letters about Mr. Z, trembled at the corner of his mouth, and the stiffness on his face caused by the negative effects almost broke.

It turned out to be a party hosted by the Aurora Society. Isn’t this an offline party for cultists?

Because he was kneading his face, Klein's micro-expression just now was blocked by his hands. He quickly adjusted his expression and made his own judgment as usual:

"Let's go to the party hosted by Eye of Wisdom first, and start with safety first."

"By the way Ian, do you know where I can buy a gun?"

"I need to replenish the ammunition I used in the battle."

When he finally escaped, although Klein still held most of the box of tarot cards and a standard revolver provided by Detective Zerrell, his ammunition had run out.

As a "Joker" who has almost no other means of attack except for being good at close combat, Klein has to rely on the power of firearms, otherwise he may not be able to exert one-tenth of his strength in battle.

"I do know a place that sells guns, but it's almost the same place as the party hosted by Eye of Wisdom."

"And to attend that party, we also need the help of the bar owner. We can go get acquainted tonight and wait until next week to officially attend the party."

Because he was exhausted from running around in the past two days, Ian hadn't had time to check the Backlund Post. He could only roughly calculate based on past experience that the party would be held next week.

Klein, who had almost zero understanding of Backlund's local forces, calmly took out a coin, raised his thumb slightly, and the bronze penny whirled in the air before falling smoothly back to Klein.

in hand.

front.

He examined the results of his divination, and the voice of "Secret" warning that "divination is not omnipotent" flashed through his mind, his brows slightly furrowed and then relaxed, and he smiled relaxedly.

"Okay, let's go to the bar you mentioned tonight."

...

Under Ian's leadership, Klein used the dim light of the sparse street lights to bypass the busier center of the road and turned into a dark alley.

The environment here is darker, and the pungent soot can be seen everywhere, as if it has been covered with a gray filter.

They walked quickly and without hesitation arrived in front of a bar in the middle of the street. Ian walked forward very "professionally", ignoring the scrutiny of the nearly two-meter-tall man with his arms crossed, and led Klein directly

Pushing open the heavy black wooden door, I walked into the bar.

Squeak.

Along with the wail of the heavy wooden door, the cheers and cheers in the bar immediately occupied Klein's ears. The rich aroma of wine overflowed from the crack in the door, causing the big man at the door to drool.

Feeling the long-lost heat wave, Ian was startled for a moment, then turned his neck and said in a hoarse voice:

"Let's go directly to the boss here, Caspars."

Klein nodded and looked at this place with curiosity, which had a better atmosphere than any bar he had ever seen. He and Ian walked to the bar counter located in the middle of the bar one after another.

I'm very lucky today. Caspars, who is wearing a linen shirt, has a huge scar on his face, and an extremely obvious nose, is taking over the bar job, pouring drinks for the guests around him while talking and laughing.

"Hey, remember me, I'm an old man!" Ian, who cheered up, jogged and sat on the high chair next to the bar, counted out eight coins, "Let's have a glass of South Wales beer."

Somewhat surprised, Caspars glanced at him, mumbled and poured a glass of beer. Just as he was about to push it to Ian, he found that the other person's finger was pointing to one side, and he made a gesture to hand it aside.

Klein, who has gotten rid of the side effects of magical items and has a mature and steady aura, took the glass of beer familiarly, took a sip, and said with a flat smile:

"Sherlock Moriarty, thank you for the beer."


This chapter has been completed!
Previous Bookshelf directory Bookmark Next