Endless Debt.

Chapter 18 The Tyrant
The number of times Burlog came to the Wandering Fork Road is not much, and his understanding of this place is not much different from ordinary people. Therefore, although the location of the Nome Clinic is written in the information, Burrog still seems to be a very difficult.

The Wandering Fork Road seems to be alive, and all kinds of strange buildings are constantly growing. They are criss-crossing along the steep cliffs. With the help of cable cars and elevators, they are like towering trees growing from the ground. The branches of steel spread freely.

In this chaotic place, Burlogo guessed that there was no municipal planning, no street signs, no addresses, let alone accurate maps.

Gangsters, bootlegs, demons lurking in the shadows, and enemies that Borrogo doesn't yet know.

The buildings here are changing every day, collapsing, rebuilding, continuous cycle, never tired of it.

Chaos is the only order here.

"There's an evil smell everywhere."

Burrog sighed, even with the isolation of the gas mask, he could still smell the peculiar smell in the air.

Not just the acrid smell of chemical waste, but something deeper, darker.

Devil's breath.

The smell of rot and decay was deeply rooted in this land, and gathered together with the thick fog. It was hard to imagine how many demons were hidden in this shadow, and those things were dirtier than demons.

Bologo had no fear, on the contrary, the pressure on him gradually eased, and soon turned into some kind of indescribable emotion...like excitement?
Under the lens of the gas mask, the blue eyes scanned everyone who came and went, even Borrog himself didn't notice, a little glint flashed across his eyes, like a hunting beast, returning to the wild jungle with joy. middle.

The process of entering the Wandering Fork Road went smoothly without any obstacles. Even the guards guarding the gate didn't pay much attention to Bologo, as if he was like a mass of empty ghosts.

Burrogo guessed that the "Hidden Man" was working. This gray and black windbreaker would reduce the attention of others to him and distort their cognition.

The roads in the Wandering Fork Road are uneven and narrow, and all kinds of stores are piled up together, like stacked towers. The neon signboards that Bologo saw outside came from these.

There are not too many people on the street, but they all look fierce. Just now, Bologo saw a warrior. He was tall and tall, with a gas mask on his face, like a mask, and on his bare arms. Full of thick muscles, full of strength.

Think about it too, if you are not vicious enough in this ghostly place, you might be thrown into the depths of the crack below in the next second.

Death is very common in wandering fork in the road, but people usually don't say "death" so bluntly, but disappear.

Every day, countless corpses are thrown into the garbage dump, merged with other garbage along the excretion channel, and then thrown into the deeper mist below.

Not even a dead body could be found.

The air corridor connects the gaps in the various rift valleys. They criss-cross and sway slightly in the sea of ​​fog. No one knows how long these things have not been repaired. Broken pieces of iron fell off.

Boluogo walked carefully. On the air corridor, he could see many people wandering here, holding golden coins in their hands, whispering something in their mouths, and then throwing them into the abyss below.

Bologo knew a thing or two about this, and it was a kind of faith-like thing that wandered off the road, but it was not a thing of faith.

It was an existence called a "tyrant".

It is said that Wandering Fork Road was originally founded by the "tyrant". He built this city of shadows in this deep and dark fissure to accommodate those who cannot live under the sun.

Of course, Bologo doesn't know whether all of this is true or not. The story of the "tyrant" is one of the famous urban legends in Opos.

According to the legend, people living in the wandering fork in the road need to throw coins into the sea of ​​cracks and fog below from time to time, as a tax to pay the "tyrant", and the corresponding "tyrant" will protect them.

That's why you can often see such a scene on the Wandering Fork Road. A group of people throw coins into the sea of ​​fog below. As for those who don't pay taxes for the "tyrant"...

Those who do not pay taxes cannot stay long in the hesitant fork in the road. If they insist on staying, the envoys of the "tyrant" will appear and drag them into the sea of ​​fog.

It sounds like a horror story, but in the chaotic place of Wandering Fork, anything is possible.

Burrog took out his pocket, took out a Wenger coin, and threw it directly towards the sea of ​​fog below. The coin flashed by and disappeared without a trace.

"Just do as the Romans do."

Bologo whispered, looking to the other side, the air corridor extended to the end of the field of vision, and the messy buildings grew wildly on the surrounding cliffs.

Noam's clinic is hidden in it, even if he remembers the information given by Lebius in his mind, it is still too difficult to find it.

Lebius was also aware of this. He also mentioned in the information that when Bologo couldn't find the target, he could go to a place to ask for directions. There is a cooperative relationship with the Bureau of Order, which can be regarded as a wandering fork in the road. The only place that is barely believable.

Barely... worth it, yes, it is.

Even if it is a cooperative relationship, it is not monolithic. In this chaotic place, maybe in the next second, the other party will betray you for greater benefits.

Unlike Noam's clinic, the place mentioned by Levius is very easy to find. Burrog raised his head and saw the tall and crooked building wrapped in a faint mist, and the flashing neon signs were looming behind the mist.

In the bright light, a signboard is the most conspicuous, and its position is also the highest, hanging high like a morning star.

"The Web Bar."

Burrog pronounced its name, and suddenly a strong wind blew past, briefly blowing away the fog above his head, revealing the true appearance of the crooked building.

Countless threads protrude from the darkness in all directions, wires, steel cables, ropes... They are entangled with each other, and finally converge on the building, densely packed and bloated, hanging together, like a weird spider web, on it It was also full of flying birds, but Bologo couldn't see its appearance clearly, there were only gray and black silhouettes.

Guessing that this is why it was called the Spider's Web, Burrogo followed the narrow path and soon arrived at the building wrapped in cables.

Near the Spiderweb Bar, the number of people has obviously increased, and the deadly atmosphere has also become more or less jubilant. Burogo can also faintly hear bursts of singing from among the tall buildings.

Crossing the street, you can see the gate is close in front of you, and the gaps are overflowing with colorful light.

Just like when he entered the Wandering Fork Road, Burlogo was not hindered from entering the Spiderweb Bar. When he opened the door, the hustle and bustle rushed towards his face, wrapping Burlogo like a tide.

There is a huge dance floor at the entrance. Under the gorgeous and psychedelic lights, countless people are dancing and laughing on it, and there are bursts of piercing singing.

Burrog took off his gas mask, alcohol mixed with a weird smell poured into his nostrils, and there was still a familiar smell of decay in it.

Looking around sharply, all he could see were drunken and hallucinated faces illuminated by lights.

Passing through the crowded crowd, he walked to the bar, recalling the process and codes in the information, and Bologo sat down and observed the busy bartender.

It was a burly guy with a clean shaved head. He was wearing a white and tight white shirt. His skin was dark. There were tattoos of poisonous snakes carved on his body. He climbed all the way along his neck. forehead.

"Have a glass of 'Revel'."

Burlogo said to the bartender, who paused for a moment, then turned his head and stared at Burlogo carefully.

"you sure?"

the bartender asked seriously.

"I'm sure."

Bologo nodded, this is the "signature" mentioned by Lebius.

The bartender seemed to be thinking about something, and then moved again, without saying anything, and made a drink for Bologo in a serious manner. Bologo was also a little confused. He wondered if he asked the wrong person. Should I exchange information directly with myself?Why is he still working.

There was no response, and Bologo remained silent until the bartender pushed a glass of strangely colored wine to Burlogo's eyes, and then he made a "please" look.

Burrog looked at the bartender, who was serious and cold, and looked at the complex liquid in the glass.

After hesitating for a few seconds, Bologo chose to trust Lebius. He felt that his new boss did not need to lie to himself, and he would not make such a ridiculous mistake.

Picking up the wine glass directly, drank it dry in one gulp.

Different from the expected bad situation, this wine should be non-toxic, but the taste is also peculiar enough, without the slightest smell of alcohol, but the smell of peppermint, it feels like the whole mouth is stuffed with ice cubes, and it is easy to drink when you breathe in. Feel a cold with pain.

"Haha."

Hearty laughter sounded, and the bartender looked at Burlogo with a smile, and then asked.

"how is the taste?"

"Too bad, I feel like I just drank a glass of foamy laundry detergent." Burrog coughed.

"That's because you don't know how to taste... How about Lebius recently?"

The bartender said, hearing the name of Lebius, Bologo calmed down and looked at the bartender vigilantly.

"Don't be nervous, 'Revel' is the hidden menu here, only that guy Lebius has drunk this wine," the bartender said casually, "he likes this wine very much, but he hasn't been here for many years .”

"An old acquaintance?"

"Almost, when I met him, I was just a waiter here, and he was just an ordinary field worker."

The bartender replied that he was the barely trustworthy guy that Lebius said.

"Is that so?"

Bologo whispered, this is not a chess piece buried by the Bureau of Order, but an old friend of Lebius, an old friend who lives in a wandering fork.

It sounds like Lebius has also been out on the field, but he looks disabled... Could it be that Lebius was not born with a disability?Was it an accident that made him live in a wheelchair?Retired from the field career.

The bartender's words interrupted Burlogo's thoughts.

"You can call me Vika...so what do I need?"

Vika motioned for others to mix drinks, and he stood in front of Burrog, leaning on the bar with both hands.

"Norm Ward," Burlogo said, putting aside all the messy thoughts, and now the first thing was to carry out the task, "I want to know where his clinic is?"

Vika was silent for a few seconds, as if he was recalling the information related to Norm Ward, after a short thought, he said.

"Then what will you give in exchange for this information?"

Burrog was stunned, and Vika seemed to understand Burrog's expression, he laughed a few times, and then said.

"You think this information should be given to you for free, don't you?"

"Just an address."

Bologo felt a little troublesome, Lebius didn't say this to himself at all, or did this guy actually have a grudge against Lebius, deliberately embarrassing himself?
"Hmm...you don't quite understand the rules of wandering fork in the road." Vika maintained a friendly attitude.

"Rules? In this chaotic place, there are so-called rules?"

"of course."

Vicar replied, and at the same time another person came over, he glanced at Bilogo, then at Vicar, then put a coin on the bar and pushed it towards Vicar.

"Vika, pay back your tax money, thank you last month."

After the man finished speaking, he left without looking back. Bologo was a little confused by this scene. Looking at the coin, he asked, "Pay taxes? Just one coin?"

Vicar said nothing, but pushed the coin towards Burlogo.

Burrog picked up the coin. Unlike the currency he was familiar with, this coin was not a currency in circulation, but something similar to a commemorative coin.

Countless silk threads are depicted on the obverse of the coin, they gather together and become a cumbersome ball of thread, which seems to be gestating something.

"This is to pay taxes for the 'tyrant'." Vika said meaningfully.

(End of this chapter)