Chapter 59 Ask for a strong drink
In the alleys of the Duwa tribe, there is a unique black market "Hundred Items Rack".
The secret technique hides all the cheers, curses, provocations, and crying. The commercial street is next door, but if you want to have fun, you still have to go here...
Caravans travel back and forth, and gold coins are circulated.
Hunters, bounty hunters, cats and mice, but they can sit at the same wine table or gambling table.
Under the mask, what is hidden is the identity, and what is unlocked is the desire.
"Tsk tsk tsk, we meet too often."
In the dim secret room, the black market leader [Stephen Kelly] is tasting a piece of top-notch steak, which is said to come from some kind of beast that is difficult to hunt in the wilderness.
The black-skinned maid pulled open the high-back chair opposite him.
Ken nodded and sat down, leaning back on the soft and comfortable chair, and began to enjoy the meat in front of him. He was a little uneasy with the knife and fork. He had not eaten such a delicate meal since he woke up.
"I want to keep a cook in the tribe. Eating should be a ritual, otherwise it can only be called filling the stomach."
"I agree." Stephen wiped the corner of his mouth with a silver napkin and asked. "Where is your base? I will definitely visit it if I have the chance."
"Heh."
Ken sneered to the side.
"You asked knowingly. You have already found out the name of Sandon Kaya. You are the one who fueled all the discussions and praises outside."
He raised the transparent glass and took a sip of wine.
"Thank you."
[Status: Good Liquid Gain]
[Description: The bonus of top-level drinks, negative emotions are reduced, and the strength is slightly increased. ]
The wine tastes very good and is brewed by ancient methods. According to the character of the blood descendants, I am afraid that a secret recipe that cannot be passed on is used.
Stephen smiled but said nothing.
He did not need to be acknowledged, nor did he accept thanks. Instead, he traced the arc of the bottom of the cup with his fingertips and asked the other party what he came for.
Ken picked up a bag of money from his feet and placed it on the edge of the dining table.
It looked familiar. It was the transaction money from two days ago. Even the nude braided rope used for binding the mouth had not been touched.
A full thousand G, all here.
"Slave auction," Ken said directly. "Auction is not accurate enough. For you, it should just be a listing for a batch of goods. I will buy as many as I can. By the way, I have to choose the people myself. You remove the poison and curse."
The decision of the Hundred Things Rack was decisive.
The slave traders were beaten to death with clubs. Whether they were involved in the [Orphan Trade] or not, they were uprooted. All businesses including slave auctions were taken over.
"Prisoners? Haha, let's keep the secret skills. Some of them... are not very obedient."
"It doesn't matter. The team lacks combat effectiveness. I'm already hungry. Just get it first and then slowly train it."
Ken didn't care.
He used the cooked vegetables to soak up the soup and put it into his mouth.
Stephen nodded gently, and the maid took the purse away. The lighting crystal on the roof had a limited range, leaving enough shadows for the bodyguards and servants to move around out of sight.
"Tomorrow night, in the tavern, don't disturb me for dinner."
"No problem," Ken pursed his lips. "You are so rich, can't you install two more lights? It looks so poor."
Stephen's fair face instantly turned red.
...
Ken left the shelf and saw a familiar person on the bustling street.
An old and serious face, a pimpled bald head, and a white beard bound by three iron rings.
[Character: Wachter]
[Attitude: Depressed]
[Identity: Spirit Craftsman]
The old blacksmith had a gloomy face and wrinkles all over his face. He looked out of place in the crowd. He stopped and looked around from time to time. His steps were weak and his mind was full of random thoughts.
Ken leaned against the wall and watched him walk past.
The other party didn't notice it, and the direction he was heading seemed to be the commercial street. In the bustling downtown, there was suddenly a spirit craftsman who was usually pure and unselfish?
[Series of tasks: Depression (II)]
[Progress: 14H]
[Description: Wachter is worried today. For the first time, he wants a glass of strong liquor. You have to make him confess his worries. ]
The front door of the tavern was pushed open.
The copper bell that was still asleep rang only once.
The dozing waiter muttered in his heart, how could someone come so early? If he was hungry or looking for fun, he should open other doors.
He wiped his eyes and had to put on a smile for the sake of the tip.
"Look, what do you need?"
However, the waiter was instantly disappointed. A dry old man, old-fashioned and dull, such a person is inexperienced and reluctant to give tips.
As expected...
Wachier stared at the wooden board full of words and refused to speak.
The waiter understood the paranoid old man's thoughts very well. If he interrupted rashly, he might get a scolding. The ring on the other's beard was very bright, and his identity as a blacksmith was quite noble in the Duwa tribe.
He was immediately entangled and could only stand there.
Dingling——
The new guest broke the deadlock.
The waiter quickly took out a napkin, wiped the bar diligently, and asked, "Young sir, what do you need?"
Ken thought for a moment.
"A large cup of Qishan ice beer, for this craftsman with extraordinary skills, a cup of your strongest and most expensive wine."
The waiter was stunned for a moment, then retreated to the back respectfully.
Wachier turned his head at this time, saw the other person's appearance, nodded with a smile, and sat on the round stool.
"Ah, I didn't expect to meet you."
The old blacksmith's sigh was heavier than the thickest snow cover in the North.
"Good evening, Mr. Wachier."
Ken waved his hand, brought the red beer in front of him, blew away the white foam, and swallowed a big mouthful.
"Hiss, huh~ This thing is quite powerful. If I can get the recipe, I have to brew it too. It's just right with the barbecue just now."
Wachier didn't respond.
The wine glass in front of him was small and exquisite, with a delicate double-layer partition carving, which could lock the most hallucinogenic secret medicine inside and also add taste. Judging from the inscription on the handle, it seemed to be the work of an expert.
"It's so beautiful."
Wachier touched it tenderly, tilted his head and stuffed it into his mouth, letting the exploding fishy and spicy liquid go through his throat and stomach, and then continued to stir his stomach.
The waiter's eyes were wide open, and he almost slipped and broke the vessel he was wiping.
"Yes, I will die..."
Ken smiled and signaled the other party not to be nervous. With his other hand, he patted the back of the spirit craftsman and slowly injected the experience value into it, filling the blood bar full, and no one would die at all.
Wachier really had no experience in getting drunk.
He held the bar and coughed non-stop.
The uncomfortable feeling of suffocation was gone in an instant, leaving only a long and lingering feeling and a confused mind.
"Oh, yes, I should tell you..."
Wachier's eyes were moist, and his old and rough hands pointed at the young man in front of him.
"Arthur agreed. He wanted to leave with you. We had a big fight. You don't understand. What makes me sad is that I didn't teach him anything at all!"
"Hey, don't think so. Mr. Malungu once said that he was very talented."
Ken continued to blow away the foam and kissed the bubbling red water. After a gulp, he continued.
"Although he can't be a spirit craftsman in the future, you have laid a very solid foundation for him so far. This is definitely meaningful and will affect his life..."
"You don't understand at all!"
Wachier's tears slid across his red cheeks.
He was completely drunk and completely relieved. He kept beating his heart and almost roared, saying, "Arthur's knowledge was not taught by me at all!"