Part Two: The Faceless Men Chapter 19: The Daredevil’s Bar
Who is it? Why did you know I had purchased the Sheriff’s formula? Hugh’s dark green pupils shrank as he looked around in dismay, but he didn’t notice any suspicious stares.
According to Mr. A’s statement, trading with him should be very safe and confidential …… At the end of the day, Hugh couldn’t help but look at the single sofa, only to see Mr. A, who covered his features with the shadow of his hood, still quietly surveying the crowd without showing the slightest sign of abnormality.
She nudged Forsyth with her elbow and asked in a low voice:
”Should I go?”
Foerth took the note, glanced at it, and answered without hesitation, “Go, at least now there’s still Mr. A watching, no one dares to do anything to you, you can take the opportunity to figure out what the other party’s purpose really is, maybe you can really get the magic potion materials you want?”
”Makes sense …… “Hugh himself is very action-oriented, immediately nodded to the attendant and once again followed the other party to the outside of the study, donning a robe with a hood.
This hat can cover my whole face, almost can not see the road in front of me …… Hugh put on the hood, opened the door and entered, aiming to see behind the desk sitting a man wearing a black tuxedo.
The man wore a gold-like mask on his face, revealing his eyes, nostrils, mouth, and cheeks, making it impossible to imagine his original appearance.
Light brown eyes behind the golden mask rolled as that man pointed to the chair across the desk:
”Sit.”
His voice was deliberately husky, but no extra special.
Hugh closed the door to the study with a backhand, puffed out his chest and sat down to his intended position without losing his air, and opened his mouth to ask:
”You have the main ingredients for the ‘Magistrate’ magic potion?”
The masked man let out a low laugh and said:
”Yes, the eyes of the Dread Demon Worm and the right paw of the Silver White War Bear, I have both.”
”As a matter of fact, that recipe for the ‘Magistrate’ magic potion is what I found someone to sell on my behalf.”
It’s no wonder that although …… Hugh was often ridiculed by her best friend for her lack of brains, but being able to survive in the circle of extraordinary people, among the gangs and the poor in the East End, she wasn’t completely reckless, and she had a kind of beastly intuition about danger.
She asked in a hushed voice:
”Why are you doing this?”
”To screen for suitable helpers.” The masked man laughed softly, “With your financial situation, it will be difficult to come up with the money needed for these two extraordinary materials in a short period of time, of course, you will be able to go to other extraordinary gatherings to resell the recipes, but trust me, it will bring you unnecessary danger, our circles don’t necessarily overlap, but I’m not alone.”
Hugh frowned, “If you have a huge organization with recipes for ‘Magistrate’ and even ‘Arbiter’ magic potions, why do you need my help?”
”There are things that we don’t want to come out on our own, there are many reasons for that, but I don’t need to tell you, and every ‘Arbiter’ who stepped onto the path of the Extraordinary Ones on their own has some aristocratic connections behind them at one time or another, and that’s what we need.” The masked man probably explained a couple sentences.
It seems that he doesn’t know where I came from, or even my reputation in the Eastern District …… Hugh relaxed a little.
The masked man continued:
”Think of it as a commission outside the Extraordinary Gathering, I will give you some tasks, pay you accordingly, and if you feel dangerous, you can refuse, it is a fair, free transaction, and when you save up enough money, you will be able to come to me to buy materials.”
This …… Hugh, who was worried about his financial situation, immediately thumped his heart, and reservedly said for 9 seconds:
”As long as I have the right to refuse the mission, I can consider it.”
”No problem.” The masked man laughed and said, “We can agree now on where and how to meet in the future, and for your peace of mind, the lead is yours.”
”Good.” Although Hugh was still full of fog and didn’t understand why the other party was looking for her to do something, she still agreed.
At least she couldn’t see any obvious harm at the moment.
……
Throughout the day on Sunday, Klein was busy buying chairs and tea sets and mending clothes, spending a total of six pounds nine sousl to bring the living room, dining room and itself back to its original state.
”What a loss, I hope the police department will finally compensate me for the damage from the Meursault estate, alas, not much hope, a portion at best.” Klein put the invoices receipts and such away neatly, waiting for the opportunity to be useful later.
Of course, purely in terms of income, he’d actually made quite a bit; Meursault’s extraordinary traits were worth at least £300, if not more.
And all of this presupposed that Klein had access to the Circle of Extraordinary People.
After dinner, dressed in a solid-colored sweater and a gray-blue workman’s jacket, and wearing a duck-tongued hat, Klein once again went out and changed twice, arriving at Iron Gate Street in the Bakerland Bridge area.
Within a few steps, he saw the “Bravehearts Bar”, the seemingly heavy black wooden door and a burly man who was nearly two meters tall with his arms wrapped around him.
The man sized up Klein and didn’t stop him from pushing his way in, but his throat quirked as he heard cheers and toasts from inside.
This time of day was the peak of the bar’s business, and before Klein even entered, he felt the pounding heat, smelled the strong aroma of malt liquor, and heard the raucous cacophony of voices.
Not surprisingly, he saw two stages in the center of the bar, one staging a dog-and-mouse race and one with two boxers waiting patiently for the upcoming fight.
The scent of alcohol mixed with the smell of sweat came over him, and Klein lifted his gold-rimmed glasses, pinched his nose, and fought to squeeze his way to the bar position while protecting his belongings.
Without waiting for the bartender to speak, he snatched it up:
”A Southwell ale.”
It was the finest ale the Kingdom of Ruin produced in-house.
”Five pence.” The bartender replied familiarly.
Krynn pulled out a handful of coins and counted out five pence to the other man in exchange for a large wooden mug filled with golden liquor, the aroma of the beer rich and enticing.
”In front of it, many beers can’t even be called wine, only drinks.” The bartender chuckled.
Klein picked up a sip, only to find it crisp and refreshing, first bitter with flavor, then the malt flavor rushed out, and the aftertaste was a bit sweet.
Setting the glass down and glancing at the delicate white foam, he took the opportunity to ask:
”Where’s Kaspers Kannlinen?”
The bartender stopped wiping his glass, looked up and scrutinized him for a few seconds, and pointed to the side:
”In pool room number three.”
In the spirit of not getting wasted, Klein put on his glass and walked outside the number three pool room.
With just a tap, he let the door to the room creak back open.
The two men inside with pool cues stopped and looked at the door in unison.
”I’m looking for Kaspers Canlinen.” In the silence, Klein was busy adding, “The ‘old man’ referred me.”
Upon hearing this, the half-hundred-year-old man with the big nose and linen shirt said in a deep voice:
”Come in.”
He had an overturned, huge scar on his face that stretched from the corner of his right eye to the right side of his mouth, and his nose was a typical rosacea, almost completely tinted red.
Klein, cup in hand, entered slowly, only to see Canlinen’s pool opponent familiarly lower his cue and leave the room, closing the door behind him.
Kasparus Canlinen limped around and opened his mouth to ask:
”What do you want?”
”A high-powered special revolver and fifty rounds of ammunition.” Crane took another sip of his Southwell beer.
”Three pounds ten soules.” Kaspers quoted the price, “That’s certainly more expensive than a regular arms store, and it covers the risk I’m taking.”
”Deal.” Klein pulled out the five one pound denomination bills he had prepared long ago from his pants pocket and counted out four to the other man.
Kaspers casually checked for authenticity and nodded:
”You’re quicker than you look, give me five minutes.”
He placed the bills on the pool table, leaned back against the cue, and limped toward the door.
After watching Kaspers go out Klein turned back and examined the currently popular pool in boredom, realizing that it was very much in line with the established snooker on Earth.
It must be you, Russell the Great …… He nearly shook his head in laughter.
After waiting for a while, Kaspers pushed his way in, holding a vellum-wrapped item and two five-soule bills.
Klein took the money and the objects and unwrapped them on the spot, his eyes reflecting in a silver-white revolver with a long barrel on the long side, its grip seemingly made of walnut.
Besides this, there were fifty rounds of yellowish ammunition neatly placed in a box.
Klein tried the empty gun, loaded five rounds, and slipped the revolver into a long-purchased underarm gun pouch, then gathered up the remaining rounds and looked up at Kaspers, deliberating:
”If I wanted to hire an awesome bodyguard, who should I call?”
”Someone very powerful, the kind that transcends human limits.”
Kaspers rubbed his big reddened nose, and his gaze turned morose for a moment.
He scrutinized Klein carefully for two minutes, creating an appalling sense of oppression with his silence:
”I can ask for you, but there’s no guarantee that someone will take this task.”
Seems to know more than one extraordinary person ah …… Klein upturned his mouth and said:
”Whatever the outcome, allow me to express my gratitude in advance.”
Kaspers collected the bills on the pool table and walked out of the place once more, it was a full ten minutes before he returned to the room and Klein had finished the large glass of Southwell ale in boredom.
”He wants to see you before he makes a decision.” Kaspers said in a hushed voice.
”No problem, in my place I would have to assess the difficulty of the mission first.” Klein smiled and nodded.
He followed the hard-walking Kaspers through the crowded side of the ring and into the bar against the kitchen.
Kaspers suddenly paused and tapped up on a door, waited for permission, and led Klein to push his way in.
It was a card room with about a dozen people playing Texas Hold’em.
Seeing Kaspers and Klein enter, a man in a white shirt and black vest slowly stood up, while the other people playing cards stopped moving, none of them making a sound.
With a quick glance, Klein frowned unnoticeably.
He found that except for the man who stood up, the rest of the poker players had an unspeakably weird flavor, their faces were pale and their eyes were like wild animals.
Tapping his left tooth twice, Klein quietly turned on his psychic vision.
His muscles tightened in a hugh manner, and he was nearly unable to control his own expression, because the aura colors of those card players were all deep black!
This meant that within the dozen or so people playing cards, other than the man who got up, the rest were all dead!
No, not just dead people, dead people don’t have aura colors!
These were all living corpses!
The feeling of decay hit his face as the man in the white shirt and black vest walked up to Klein.
His face was equally pale, and his eyes seemed to harbor a strong malice.