Alien world

Chapter 1265 187. Wilson

The Black Rock Tavern was silent.

The mercenaries were frightened by Annan's words, and the guards were even more so.

They only knew that Annan was some big shot, but they didn't know that he had such a profound background.

Damn it...it turns out that good things never happen to him!
Annan sensed the retreat in the captain of the guards' emotions and continued, "What's your name?"

"Us..."

“How much salary do you get per month?”

The mercenaries watching the scene started to make a noise: "That fat guy... their lord is so stingy that he only pays them 15 silver coins a week!"

Annan looked at the captain of the guard with pity: "Is it worth it to work hard for a job that pays 60 silver coins a month?"

"Now, turn around and go out and tell those guys outside the door who sent you in to die that there was a group of drunks fighting in the tavern and I was just watching the fun."

"Go."

"I pledge allegiance to—"

Annan interrupted him: "I am Annan Reeves, the Lord of Liberty City. Someone will come to contact you in a while."

"I pledge my loyalty to you..."

Captain Us finally lowered his not-so-proud head.

The guards let go of the tavern owner, saluted Annan, and walked out of the tavern without looking back, as if they had made some kind of decision.

The mercenary at the door rolled his eyes, and suddenly rushed towards the people around him, yelling, "Don't f*cking think that the guards can save you!"

The mercenary who was punched in the face felt dizzy, but he also cooperated and fought back: "I said it right!"

The mercenaries, who were in a mess and fighting, pushed each other and hit the door, blocking the prying eyes from outside.

They were shouting and screaming behind the door, it was all show - or maybe it was real, but there was silence around Annan.

The mercenaries looked at Annan with sparkling eyes like those of young girls. They felt that what Annan had just said was like an arrow piercing their hearts, which made them feel more comfortable and relieved than "killing all the guards".

"You're worthy of being a big shot! You scared the guards away with just a few words!" exclaimed the mercenary who put down the stool.

"I'm telling the truth." Annan shrugged.

In fact, Annan had no choice but to do so.

What he had done in the Kingdom of Rekanel was not suitable to be done here again. He had to keep a low profile, at least until he found Elimoyas.

Annan is no longer the political newcomer he was a few years ago. He ignores the rules and acts arbitrarily - that's what empires do.

Lord Raymond laid out the rules, and if he wanted to lower the price, he had to follow Lord Raymond's rules. Overturning the table was what the empire did, and if Annan wanted to do that, he would face a situation where both sides would suffer losses.

We can’t fight a war… How can we make money if we fight a war…

Speaking of which, why didn't Lord Raymond have the slightest fear of Joan? Did he know that Joan was not a princess of the empire?
and also……

Annan looked at the mercenaries who pushed forward even though they knew the guards dared to attack them. He was both impressed and puzzled: "Don't you want to die?"

The bench mercenary showed a smile that was as honest as possible, but looked ferocious no matter how you looked at it: "You got one thing wrong. That guy didn't fight for the ten silver weekly salary, but because he had the ten silver weekly salary. We don't have that, so we're not afraid!"

"We are not afraid!"

The mercenaries echoed in unison.

Annan stood up in awe and said, "May I ask who you are?"

The swollen-faced innkeeper returned to the counter: "You know it, don't you? They are just a bunch of poor people who believe in that woman."

"Faith?" The bench mercenary grinned, "That damn money goddess has turned this land into this. If we don't accept it, we'll set up a new god to take it back!"

Annan looked at the tavern owner: "Your idea?"

Annan had seen this kind of ceremony of replacing the old god with a new one in books, but it didn't seem like these illiterate people knew about it.

"I just want people to remember her..." The tavern owner smiled bitterly, "As for you, I thought you were here to have fun with your elders... Who are you?"

Annan coughed lightly and said, "Then let me introduce myself solemnly. The person standing before you is: King of the North, Champion Warlock, Squire of the Holy Grail Knight, Lord of the Free City, Annan Reeves."

A short guy whose vision was completely blocked jumped from the back row and shouted, "Why did so many people come here!?"

The mercenaries burst into laughter, and the tavern owner laughed along, accidentally pulling the wound on his face and gasping for air.

Annan asked Black Widow to treat him, "I don't know how." Black Widow, who had not spoken since entering the door, spoke.

"A great wizard doesn't know how to perform healing spells?" Annan was suspicious.

"My dear, do you know the magician's hand?"

"I'm fine, I just got punched. It's better than being locked up in a dungeon, drained of my money, and thrown into a mine." The tavern owner sneered.

When he first arrived, Annan thought he was some hidden big shot, but it turned out he was just an ordinary person.

The mercenaries continued to act, and Annan looked at him: "No one will disturb us for now, please continue the story."

"No problem. I'm glad that someone important is willing to know this story..."

Wilson still remembers the morning when he met Adele. He had just moved with his family from Manka Town and saw Adele squatting in front of a pile of slag "playing with sand" in the outer ring of Golden City.

After moving to the new house, his father directed the servants to move things, his mother was busy getting to know the neighbors, and Wilson sneaked out. It was really difficult for a child to recognize the road, and Wilson soon lost his way in the streets and alleys. At this time, he saw the pile of slag and the little girl.

Curiosity conquered the boy's uneasiness. He squatted aside and watched the girl pour a pile of slag into a basin of water, stir it and drain it out, put the wet slag into the basket, and then shovel up a pile of slag with a board.

After watching for a long time, Wilson couldn't help asking, "Can I try it?"

The little girl raised her dirty little face, looked at Wilson's clean clothes and fair skin, and shook her head to refuse.

Seeing the little girl continue to use all her strength to shovel out a thin layer of sand and gravel from the slag pile, Wilson deliberately provoked her: "I must have shoveled more sand than you!"

Wilson eagerly took the plank and began to shovel sand, but he tried his best and could only shovel out some debris from the slag pile.

The slag pile is as solid as a wall!

Wilson's clumsy action was met with laughter from the little girl. His face immediately turned red with embarrassment and he returned the board to the little girl.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"There are broken coal in the slag. I can wash them out and take them back to use."

"Can crushed coal be used?"

Wilson's impression of coal was that it was a whole piece of shiny black stone.

“Yes, and it’s warmer!”

Wilson suddenly realized it, looked at it for a while and said, "Can I try again?"

This time Wilson imitated the little girl and shoveled the slag. Although he shoveled a little less, it was much better than the first time.

"You take out the water, and I'll shovel it!"

Wilson patted his chest like a little man. The novelty made him not feel tired at all.

(End of this chapter)