A strange world

Chapter 1265 Section 187. Wilson

The Black Rock Tavern was silent.

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

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

Damn...it turns out that good things never happen to him!

Annan sensed the retreat from the captain's emotions and continued, "What's your name?"

"Us..."

"How much salary do you get in a month?"

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

Annan looked at the captain with pity: "Is it worth it to work hard for a job with a monthly salary of 60 silver coins?"

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

"Go."

"I am loyal to--"

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

"I am loyal to you..."

Captain Wus finally lowered his head, which was not proud.

The guards let go of the tavern owner, saluted Annan, and walked out of the tavern without looking back, as if they had made up their minds.

The mercenary at the door rolled his eyes and suddenly yelled at the people around him: "Don't fucking think that the guards can save you!"

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

The mercenaries who were fighting again pushed each other and hit the door, blocking the outside prying view.

They shouted behind the door and called it a play - or a fake play, but Annan was quiet around.

These mercenaries looked at Annan with bright eyes like girls. They felt that what Annan said just now was like an arrow shot into their hearts, which made them feel more comfortable and happy than "killing all the guards".

"You are worthy of being a big shot! Just a few words scared the guards away!" The mercenary who put down the stool exclaimed.

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

In fact, Annan just had no choice.

What he did in the Kingdom of Rekanel was not suitable to be done here again. He must keep a low profile, at least before finding Ilimoyas.

Annan is no longer the political rookie he was a few years ago. He doesn't follow the rules and acts arbitrarily - that's what the empire does.

Lord Raymond laid out the rules. If he wants to reduce the price, he must follow Lord Raymond's rules. Overturning the table is what the empire does. If Annan wants to do it, he will face a situation where both sides will suffer losses.

We can't fight... How can we make money if we fight...

Speaking of which, why doesn't Lord Raymond have any fear of Joan? Does he know that Joan is not an empire princess?

And...

Annan looked at the mercenaries who knew that the guards dared to take action but still squeezed forward. He admired and puzzled: "Are you going to die?"

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

"We are not afraid!"

The mercenaries echoed in unison.

Annan stood up in awe: "May I ask who you are?"

The swollen-faced tavern owner returned to the counter: "Don't you know? They are just a bunch of poor people who believe in that woman."

"Believe?"

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

Annan looked at the tavern owner: "You came up with this idea?"

Annan had seen this kind of ceremony of replacing the old god with a new one in a book, and these illiterate people didn't seem to know about it.

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

Annan coughed lightly: "Then introduce yourself solemnly. Standing in front of you is: King of the North, Champion Warlock, Holy Grail Knight Squire, Lord of Free City, Annan Reeves."

A short man whose vision was blocked tightly jumped from the back row and shouted: "When did so many people come!?"

The mercenaries laughed, and the tavern owner laughed too. He accidentally pulled the wound on his face and took a breath.

Annan asked Black Widow to heal him, "I can't." Black Widow, who had not spoken since entering the door, spoke.

"A great wizard can't do healing spells?" Annan was suspicious.

"Dear, do you know the magician's hand?"

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

When he first came, Annan thought he was some hidden big shot, but he turned out to be 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 a big shot 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 way, 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, put the wet slag into a basket, and then shoveled a pile of slag with a board.

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

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 shovel more sand than you!"

When the board was handed to him, Wilson couldn't wait to take it and started shoveling sand, but he only shoveled some fragments from the slag pile with all his strength.

The slag pile was as solid as a wall!

Wilson's clumsy movements were exchanged for the little girl's laughter, and his face suddenly 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 broken coal be used?"

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

"Yes, and it is warmer!"

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

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

"You are responsible for scooping water, and I will shovel!"

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