Old Booker extinguished the lamp he had lit to attract customers, lamenting another businessless and difficult day.
The Spear District is an interesting place: it is not as poor and backward as the Shield District and the Hammer District, nor is it as noble as the Ax District and Arrow District. It is not even as lively as the Bow District, Sword District, and Armor District, but in Longxiao City
The slope is relatively high, and most of the people living here are the family members of the king's loyal servants who have official positions but have been unable to obtain titles, or civilian businessmen who are rich but cannot live in the aristocratic area. Therefore, Spear
District Qia has become an outright embarrassing area.
But Old Booker, a hotel owner originally from Commiswaril, was one of the few people who took advantage of this embarrassing situation to make a living: he saw the business opportunities hidden in it.
Old Booker's hotel looks clean and tidy, and the decoration cost is not too bad. The cost is more than the upper and lower than the lower, but it can always attract customers of neither high nor low status, such as wealthy businessmen or craftsmen.
, or declining nobles who don't have much money but don't want to lose their dignity, or travelers who come from afar and don't understand the local market.
These are often people who come from other places and are waiting to meet the "big shots". They are not qualified to stay in the ax area and arrow area for too long, and they don't want to degrade themselves in the messy sword area and bow area (of course, they are lowly and humble people.
There is no need to consider the Shield District and the Hammer District at all), so they often choose to stay in Old Booker's hotel in the Spear District, which is both well-organized and not shabby.
After countless hardships, Old Booker and his family took root in the Spear District.
It is a pity that since the assassination of Prince Morar, the relationship between the two major countries in the Western Continent has suddenly become tense.
Rumors of conscription, tax increases, wars, and shortages came one after another. The tense atmosphere in the city caused Old Booker's business to plummet in the past month or so. Recently, there was only one guest staying. For this, he could only sigh.
I was so unlucky, and as usual, I cut costs from the purchase of drinks and the wages of handymen to maintain the survival of the hotel.
When the news came that the Prince of Stars was on an envoy, he thought the crisis was over.
Until last night, Old Booker woke up from his sleep.
Haoyue has mercy on you!
Why do countless patrols scurry through the streets at night?
What were those terrifying loud noises last night?
What are those thunderous roars in the second half of the night?
Although Old Booker is from Camas, he is different from those fellow merchants in Longyi Square who are only interested in profit and just want to make a fortune and leave.
From when Old Booker was still Little Booker, from when he saw the Northland girl who helped transport goods in Waril State, to being fascinated by her wholeheartedly, to desperately eloping with his future wife to Longxiao City
, it has been twenty years: long enough that the local neighbors with various backers have become accustomed to his existence, long enough that even the most demanding and xenophobic order officials will not come to trouble him, long enough that young people always think that he is nothing more than
He is a Northlander with a rather special appearance. Even the words under his tongue have a thick Northland accent. When he was young, he would have laughed at the vague ending of "vulgar" until he fell in love with it.
His Northland wife passed away, and Old Booker had no plans to return to his hometown or change places.
But Old Booker could swear by either the Bright Moon Goddess or the Harvest Lady: In all the years he has lived in Longxiao City, he has never seen or heard anything like what he saw and heard after opening the window last night!
Disaster?
That big octopus baring its teeth and claws in the direction of the shield area?
dragon?
That winged lizard that fell to the ground and roared in the flames?
Neighbors around him were whispering in fear or awe, and he, who didn't know much about the legends and stories of the North, was terrified: Is this a return to the mythical age?
Forget it, the big shots will take care of it. The frightened old Booker yawned due to lack of sleep, shook his head and opened the account. When he was about to calculate the payment for the order officer and the patrol team, a fifteen or sixteen-year-old black-haired man
The girl opened the door and walked in calmly.
Old Booker instantly drove away all the gloom on his face, as if he was about to welcome his princess.
"Lucy!" the innkeeper said happily, "my dear daughter!"
But after seeing the girl's clothes clearly, Old Booker immediately frowned.
The girl held her head against the ice and snow and tightly wrapped a piece of black cloth around her mouth and nose, leaving only a pair of smart eyes exposed. She was wearing a simple but thick cotton coat, her gloves were full of snow particles, and her leg pants were tightly tied with belts.
Stuck into boots.
I don’t know where I went wild again, Old Booker thought unhappily.
"You ran outside the city again? It was such a heavy snowstorm, and you didn't even wear a hat!" The boss forced himself to keep a straight face and raised a finger: "Didn't I tell you, you saw it yesterday, and now
It’s a mess outside, there haven’t been many customers in the past ten days.”
"The patrol passed here this morning."
"There are rumors everywhere that the lower districts have been destroyed."
"Those country bumpkins from the slums," Old Booker looked at his daughter worriedly: "You are a girl, Lucy! You must pay more attention to your own safety!"
The girl whose face was hidden stepped on the ground, rubbed off the snow on her feet, patted her gloves covered with ice crystals, pulled out a pair of white hands from them, and then pulled off the black scarf on her face, revealing a
Her rosy face looks playful and cute in the cold weather.
The girl turned to the boss and showed a bright smile.
This made Old Booker's heart-wrenching sermon choke.
"Yes, yes, yes, dear daddy," the girl waved her hand with a playful smile, holding on to the handle of the wooden ladder: "I understand."
"If it's okay, I'll go upstairs."
The girl tilted her head and made a face, then jumped up and disappeared from Old Booker's eyes.
There was only the sound of stomping up the stairs.
Old Booker was immediately furious.
"You, Lucy!"
The boss leaned out half of his body, suppressed his voice, and said angrily to the stairs: "Don't disturb the guests. He emphasized that you should be quiet!"
What responded to him was his daughter's long drawn out voice: "I know."
There were also a few low murmurs coming from above, which generally seemed to be "a verbose old man".
Old Booker retracted his head from the stairs and sighed.
"Empire, disaster, dragon, curfew, well, there is also a daughter who is as troubled as her mother." The boss walked back to his seat helplessly, took a sip of his late wife's favorite ale, and shook his head: "God knows what else.
What’s waiting for me?”
but
Old Booker rolled his eyes and curled his lips:
As long as Lucy is okay, as long as Lucy is happy
Then life isn't so bad.
Old Booker's originally dull mood suddenly became much brighter.
But what he didn't know was that the moment his daughter disappeared from his sight, the girl's originally youthful and playful expression suddenly turned cold.
It's like a sudden frost.
A faint chill emanated from her whole body, and her light and happy steps immediately became silent, like a black cat walking on tiptoes.
The girl pushed open the wooden door of a room and walked indifferently into this narrow, dark room that smelled of medicine.
On the wooden bed in the room, a man sitting against the wall slowly opened his deep eyes with a gloomy expression.
He was wrapped in a close-fitting and tight gray coat, which protected him from the cold weather. The sleeves were pulled up to his upper arms, and his left arm and right shoulder were wrapped in thick bandages.
The girl closed the door and slowly curved her mouth, revealing a sneer that was completely opposite to the playful smile just now.
She spoke softly to the man, respectfully and patiently calling out a peculiar title:
"Father."
The man in gray clothes didn't respond, he just looked out the window which was opened a crack.
"The city has begun to lift martial law." The girl seemed to be used to the other party's silence. She sat down on a stool nearby, grabbed a short knife on the table, and said to herself: "Probably the big shots in the palace have reached an agreement.
"
"When are we leaving?"
The man in gray still didn't respond.
But in just the next second, he suddenly raised his head, and the emptiness in his eyes turned into vigilance.
The man in gray raised his hand gently, and a short knife jumped strangely from the table two meters away and suddenly flew into his hand.
Just listen to him say calmly: "We have guests."
The girl's pupils moved, she stood up and acted instinctively.
She stretched out her white, tender and slender fingers that were rare among Northerners, pulled out the black cloth tied around her neck from her collar, and pulled it up to her nose, covering half of her face just like before.
Just like a professional face mask.
Not only does it cover your face, it also covers your breathing.
As soon as she pulled up her mask and held the dagger in her arms, a high-pitched voice came from outside the door.
"Long time no see, old friend."
A middle-aged man opened the door and walked in, with a smile on his smooth face.
This "guest" wore a generous coat common to people in the North, and a thick fur hat that covered both ears. However, he had a flat face that was rare in the Western Continent, with shallow lips and a yellowish complexion. At first glance,
Make people feel good.
He breathed into his hand, ignored the girl beside him, and squinted his eyes to adjust to the light in the room.
The girl frowned, but the man on the bed made a gesture that made her suppress her desire to make a move.
The guest's smile did not diminish, he looked straight at the man on the bed and moved forward.
At this time, the man in gray clothes suddenly raised his deep eyes, with a cold light radiating from them.
"There are three traps ahead of you."
The guest's smile froze on his face, just like his right foot that he had just raised.
The man in gray's words were direct and emotionless: "Two of them are fatal."
The flat-faced guest took a deep breath, blinked, shrugged, and put his raised right foot back to its original position as if helplessly.
The girl on the side raised her lips and smiled silently in her heart.
But the guest's smile seemed to be plastered on his face, regaining its color amid the embarrassment.
"Now you are a veritable regicide family," the guest said, rubbing his hands with a flattering smile. His Common Tongue accent had some strange emphasis, neither like Exeter, the Star People, nor Comas.
Or Southwest people: "Thinking about it makes people feel"
The guest's words suddenly stopped and his eyes moved to the bandages on the man's shoulders.
"Oh," his voice deepened, as if he was a little surprised and suddenly realized: "You are injured."
"Accident?"
The girl on the side snorted coldly.
But the man in gray clothes on the bed just looked at the guest coldly.
"White Blade Guards, sixteen people." The man said softly.
The guest looked interested.
"Three knives, one cut deeper than the other," the man in gray moved his left arm wrapped in a bandage, and continued nonchalantly: "It would be good to be back."
The guest with a flat face stopped smiling, lowered his head, and looked at the man quietly with side eyes.
Like peeking behind a door.
"Where's your brother?"
The guest grinned and asked softly: "He asked you to do such a difficult job alone?"
"He has his own place to go," the man said silently.
The silence lasted for several seconds.
The guest stared at the ground at his feet, stretched out his hands from behind, and rubbed them in front of him silently: "Is your injury okay?"
The girl who felt something was not right frowned.
The man in gray still had no emotion in his eyes, looking at the guest from a distance.
The man slowly raised the corners of his mouth and moved his shoulders: "If you want to kill me, now is a good time."
"While I can't operate either arm."
The guest's eyebrows raised slightly.
He tilted his head forward, motionless, staring straight at the man in front of him, his eyes soft and strange.
The atmosphere suddenly became strange.
The man responded silently, calmly and calmly.
Finally, just when the girl was about to become impatient, the guest suddenly burst out laughing.
"Ha ha ha ha"
The guest squinted his eyes, tilted his head back, and was overjoyed, as if he had encountered something very interesting.
He raised his finger to eye level and tapped the man, with a playful expression on his face that said, "You must have been caught by me."
"You are getting more and more humorous, Bananet!"
He laughed, his index finger trembling in the air faster and faster, and his tone was exaggerated: "That's what I like about you!"
The man in gray, known as Bananet, just looked at him coldly and didn't say a word for a long time.
But the guest didn't feel left out at all. He put away his smile and fingers and turned to the girl with interest.
"Oh, girl, you must be the talented 'Lucy'!"
The guest bowed politely, continued to smile strangely, and said in his strange accent: "Thanks to your help, my subordinates are indeed your father's."
But he is clearly not popular.
"Stay away from me," the masked girl said with disgust, "You weird Far Eastern people."
"Oh, this is so cold," the guest from the Far East replied patiently, without any dissatisfaction: "It breaks my heart."
The gray-clothed Bananet snorted coldly and interrupted the other party: "You never put yourself in danger."
He said coldly: "But you still came."
Hearing this, the guest from the Far East closed his mouth in embarrassment and sighed helplessly.
"The customers this time are not easy to deal with. If I don't come, we will be in trouble." He shrugged.
and
The guest from the Far East sighed: More importantly, it is the boy who represents the Fuxing Palace.
But the man was unmoved at all: "Why did you come to me?"
The guest exhaled and made two hey sounds.
"My friend got some news about Xingchen," the guest blinked, as if he was about to take out a big treasure: "You know, it's not easy for us to get the news there now."
The man in gray said with a cold voice: "Tell me the important point."
"You may be interested," the guest from the Far East said as he quickly changed the subject, making the apparently abrupt transition very smooth: "Several population gathering points on the border encountered intruders."
Bananet snorted loudly again: "The point."
The Far Easterner didn't hesitate and said the next sentence directly: "It's very similar to the Sariton family's style, both in terms of sword skills and body shape."
At that moment, the girl beside her stopped breathing.
It seemed like I remembered something.
The Far Eastern guest raised his eyebrows and observed Bananet's expression.
The man in gray clothes still had no reaction, but suddenly glanced out the window.
People from the Far East are a little confused.
But after a few seconds, he paused slightly and looked out the window as well.
The face of the Far Easterner became solemn and serious.
"Would you like to help you cook?" the man in gray said calmly.
The Far Eastern guest sighed softly, but then changed into a happy smile again.
"How dare you."
He bowed slightly: "This is my private matter."
"Okay," the man in gray nodded gently, "Goodbye."
As soon as he finished speaking, the man named Baanette got out of the bed.
The moment his legs landed on the ground, the five daggers on the table jumped up as if they were alive, flying back and forth towards Bananet in unison.
Then he obediently inserted it into several different scabbards all over his body.
Seeing this incredible scene, the Far Easterners couldn't help but frown slightly.
"The trap has been lifted," the man in gray put on a large robe to cover the bandages on his body. As he walked past the Far Eastern man, he whispered: "You can come in with confidence."
The Far Eastern guest bowed politely.
The girl sneered, glanced at the Far Eastern guest with a sly smile, and followed her father out of the room.
The moment the two of them left behind him, the Far Eastern guest raised his head, his eyes becoming extremely cold.
He closed the door gently, looked out the window and sighed.
"It's been fifteen years," the guest said, speaking a language that was completely different from the common language of the Western Continent, which was composed of single sounds: "You still found me."
At the window, a hand suddenly appeared, grabbed the window edge, and the second Far Easterner quickly turned over and entered the room.
"Long time no see," Gu, the butcher shop owner who had just turned over from the window and had a relationship with Thales, stood by the window and patted the snowflakes on his hands, using the same language and said calmly: "Senior Brother Teng
."
"Manager Teng."
On the stairs outside the room, the man in gray and the masked girl quietly went downstairs.
"He is it." The girl turned her head, glanced at the room just now, and couldn't help but said: "Is it him?"
The man didn't answer, just nodded.
The girl's eyes tightened.
"Father, that intruder he just mentioned," the girl asked tentatively: "That could be my mother or my sister."
"How much?" the expressionless man said abruptly.
The girl was slightly startled: "Ah?"
"That guy," the man in gray said coldly, "how many lies did he tell in total?"
The "Lie" girl was a little confused.
"Eleven."
"From the time he stepped into the room to the time we walked out of the room, he told a total of eleven lies," the man concluded softly, and continued with a solemn look: "Nine of them were fatal. If I didn't identify any one of them, I could respond to it."
"Probing reaction"
The man suppressed the trembling in his palms and waved his left hand to catch a drop of blood seeping out of the bandage to prevent it from dripping to the ground: "The scene will be ugly."
The girl was surprised and blinked: "But he didn't say much at all."
"Lies don't need words to weave," the man in gray interrupted the girl coldly: "This sentence came from the mouth of a terrible lady, remember it well."
The masked girl was stunned.
"And, remember," the man said without looking at the girl next to him, with a deadpan expression and a cold tone, "your mother and sister are both dead."
"Don't mention them again."
After hearing this, the girl's shoulders shook slightly and she clenched her fists lightly.
"Next time," the man in gray may have noticed something strange about the girl, but he didn't react at all: "Don't let anyone come to your door again by dressing you up."
The girl lowered her head deeply.
People can't see her eyes clearly.
They went down the stairs.
"Lucy, why did you come down with the guests?"
Old Booker raised his head on the chair and looked at the girl with a black cloth mask on his face, with a look of surprise on his face: "And you are wearing a scarf again, do you want to go out?"
But the girl ignored him and just looked at the man in gray.
"This guest," Old Booker finally reacted and looked at the man diligently: "Do you want to pay?"
The man in gray clothes nodded slightly and whispered: "Be cleaner.
Old Booker looked at the interaction between his daughter and the guests with confusion, not knowing why.
The masked girl nodded, and under Old Booker's questioning eyes, she walked up to him and opened her arms to hug him.
Like a daughter embracing her father.
"What are you doing, Lucy?" Old Booker looked at his daughter's actions dumbfounded, hugged her back helplessly, and at the same time gave an apologetic look to the cold guest: "I still have to entertain guests."
But he couldn't finish his words.
"laugh!"
Old Booker's expression changed, and he shook suddenly as he hugged his daughter!
Old Booker's teeth began to tremble and his face was extremely distorted. He lowered his head with difficulty and shock and looked at his daughter in his arms.
"Lucy, you" Old Booker's shaking became more and more severe, as if he was enduring great pain.
But nothing could compare to the disbelief, pain and despair in his eyes at this moment.
"Puff puff!"
Old Booker shuddered three more times, each one more terrifying than the last!
His eyebrows were twisted into a ball, but he could only find coldness and indifference in his daughter's eyes.
The girl loosened her arms and gently pushed Old Booker away.
"Plop!" Old Booker fell to the ground with despair on his face.
With trembling lips, he looked at the bloody dagger in the girl's right hand.
The feeling of moisture and warmth spread from the boss's painful back, soaking through his clothes and soaking the ground.
No.
Lucy.
No!
Old Booker, lying in a pool of blood, pursed his lips and stared at the dagger in the girl's hand.
In the severe pain that almost blurred his senses, he stretched out his weak right hand towards his favorite daughter, and said with a cry in a trance:
"Lucy why"
But the girl just looked down at him coldly, with disdain and disgust in her eyes.
"Listen up, dear daddy."
"My name is not 'Lucy', that's just my working name," the masked girl squatted down gently and leaned close to Old Booker's ear: "My real name is"
She said in a voice that only two people could hear clearly:
"Jessica Sarriton."
Old Booker's eyes condensed.
But he couldn't say anything anymore.
The man in gray clothes stood quietly behind them, saying nothing.
Jessica stood up silently, glanced at her dagger silently, and gently shook off the blood on it.
On the dagger, two letters appeared on the blood-soaked blade: