I Will Be The Crowned King

Outer City, West Gate Street, Crown Tavern.

Four thirty in the morning.

Sitting at the greasy bar, Anson enjoyed a breakfast of garlic sausage, dry bread, instant coffee and half a fried chicken, no different from every morning worker in the tavern.

Compared with the exquisite and high-end cafes in the inner city, the biggest advantage of the pubs in the outer city in Anson's eyes is that they can operate almost 24 hours a day.

Three-quarters of the most important factories in Clovis are built in the most convenient locations in the outer city, and these pubs and cafes are often built on nearby streets to provide workers with three meals a day and leisure entertainment.

Most factories start work from 5:30, which means that workers will go out at 4:30. After the one-hour meal time at noon, they often don’t get off work until after 12:00 or 1:00 in the morning; the demand from customers is also indirectly generated. These pubs are open 24/7 for hot food and drinks.

Anson ate the grilled sausage and fried chicken on the plate. To be honest, the taste was stronger than Lisa's cooking skills, but the advantage was that it was full of weight, and the taste was very strong. He often had to drink coffee and then eat a piece of bread to eat. pharynx.

After eating one-third of a meal, An Sen, who felt like he had been fooled, was forced to order another glass of stout beer and slowly pick up the fried chicken and eat it.

From dark to dawn, An Sen, who kept staring at the door of the tavern from the corner of his eyes, finally reached his goal.

Kalin Jacques, who was wearing a black priest's robe, pushed the door open as usual, and his eyes swept into the tavern very naturally fell on the rather conspicuous figure in front of the bar.

He was stunned for a moment, then turned pale in shock, eagerly rushed to the bar with a face that was constantly changing like a palette, and sat down beside Anson.

"You... how did you get here?!"

Holding back the panic in his heart, Carin Jacques, who was trembling all over, hardly dared to raise his head, as if a gun was on his head in the tavern.

"There are some things that I need to consult with you."

Anson swallowed the chicken in his mouth, and casually touched the fat and meat residue at the corner of his mouth with his thumb, "Don't worry, I'm not here to catch you, and no one is aiming a gun at your head."

Carin Jacques immediately breathed a sigh of relief, and the loose priest's robe immediately deflated like a deflated balloon.

"What's the matter with me - let's say it first, I really don't know where Draco is now, or I'll tell you right away!"

"I know, so I'm not here today for this."

Anson said as he put down the cup, the coffee in this tavern was as bad as Army ground coffee.

"I remember you said last time that you have contacts with many old gods organizations in the outer city?"

"That's right, but it's basically all business dealings, and I don't dare to go to their gatherings - these old gods organizations are stronger than gangsters, and some are even more extreme; robbery, arson and extortion are all good, But they are basically not very good at doing business, and they spend a lot of money, so..."

Halfway through the sentence, Carin Jacques suddenly froze and raised his head alertly.

"Why are you asking this?"

Anson smiled and wiped his hands with a napkin. "I'm a little curious to see what a real Old Gods party looks like."

"What?"

The black-robed priest was stunned.

This is the real purpose of Anson's special visit to this Ring of Order priest, as well as the second-order dealer of the Old God School.

Luther Franz gave him all the information, Anson could find the workers who were fired by the railway committee, follow them all the way and finally find these old gods organizations, replace a "old gods new man" and break into the enemy's interior ...

But he's not going to do it, for two reasons

First of all, it is too inefficient to do so; secondly, it is not in line with the "simple bloody, eager to save the world's second disease" on the Black Mage's side.

Now he is a little unsure of what Mace Hornard wants to do... Kill the elf ambassador and detonate the war between Clovis and Iser elf; while suppressing the guards, he secretly assists the guards to find their own way.

If his real purpose is the Great Magic Book in Clovis Cathedral, what is his purpose in doing this now?

The "big plan" of the Old Gods?

There is this possibility, and it can be seen from many places that Mace Hornard is actually very serious about this matter-the solution to the security of the capital is to ensure that the war can continue, and the killing of the elf ambassador is to cause more problems. big mess.

At the banquet, he told Bron the information about the elf ambassador, and an hour later Maurice Périgord died in the public as the identity of the old gods... The level of decisiveness was terrifying.

I don't understand, and An Sen doesn't intend to understand for the time being. Sometimes the more he knows, the easier it is for people to collapse and be mistaken by others as a traitor.

In order not to cause a misunderstanding, Anson decided to find the old **** organization directly through Kalin Jacques; this way the black mage would know what he was going to do, and there was room for explanation when something went wrong.

"There's a semi-public party tonight if you're really just 'curious'."

Carlin Jacques, who lowered his voice, looked at Anson with some fear. "There will be some identity checks, but those are not very strict. As long as you don't have weapons, no one will care."

"Then who organized the party?"

"An old-fashioned gangster called 'Hydra' controls almost two streets and more than 1,000 households. The scale is not large."

"Not large?"

Anson was stunned, "Do you know how many people there are in Clovis City?"

"Then do you know how many people there are in Clovis City?" the black-robed priest asked rhetorically.

"Eight hundred thousand? This is the statistic from the 90th year of the saint's calendar, and the clerk of the Privy Council only counts the population who have formal jobs and are registered to pay taxes. Anyone who has lived in the outer city knows that there is definitely more than this number!"

"Almost in the last ten years, more and more factories in Clovis City have opened, and the small workshops nearby have gone bankrupt one by one; the manor has been expropriated, and hundreds of thousands of farmers without land are pouring in almost every day."

"I haven't been to the slums that are too remote. Those places are all gang territory... But a rough estimate is that there are almost two million people in the entire city of Clovis."

Two million? !

So, the population of the outer city is more than five times that of the inner city? !

Aware of the surprise in Anson's eyes, Carin Jacques, who shrank his neck, chuckled softly.

"You don't have to be too surprised, after all, I haven't done any census, and there may not be two million in the outer city - of course, there are definitely more than one million people, that's for sure."

"These people are either working under the gang, or they are in the gang, or they are working in the gang and the gang, or they work in factories that are controlled by the gang... Anyway, no one in the outer city cares."

"Hasn't anyone been checked?"

"Check? The gangster factories that were not very profitable or made too much money were bombed by their opponents within two days. All the survivors found relationships with nobles in the inner city and worked as OEMs for regular factories to evade taxes."

"...You seem to know this very well?"

"As long as you stay in a tavern for four or five days, it's no secret to you." Carin Jacques grinned

"Or in church, where the grumbling workers don't care if there's a decent priest sitting in the confession room."

So you really are an unruly priest... Anson took a sip of stout in silence

"Can you help me find a way to sneak into this party?"

"No problem - although they don't know me, I know where they usually meet; just dress up as an ordinary worker, don't bring any weapons, and pay the guard at the door for a little money, and it's not difficult to get in."

Karin Jacques nodded, showing a nervous and ingratiating smile, "Just in case I ask one more question, you are really just out of curiosity, so you want to come to participate, feel the atmosphere or something... Right?"

Looking at the black-robed priest who kept rubbing his hands, Anson, who was drinking dark beer, did not speak.

The two looked at each other without blinking for half a minute. The smile at the corner of Carin Jacques' mouth became stiffer and stiffer, and finally his throat twitched slightly.

"...Sorry, I was talking too much."

After taking a sip of beer, Anson slammed the glass on the table heavily.

………………

"boom!"

A bald tattooed man with a height of two meters weighed the three silver coins in his palm with satisfaction, pulled up the iron ring on the wooden door behind him, and smashed a movement comparable to a one-pound cannon.

After a while, the wooden door was opened, and the bald man with arms around him stepped aside. The strong aroma of alcohol and fried food, restless cheers and lazy moans poured out from behind the door.

Is this a party of the old gods, or a nightclub?

Standing in place, An Sen was stunned for a second, and then walked into the door with the envious eyes of the people in line behind him.

The noisy hall is no different from the Crown Tavern on Ximen Street, with noisy sounds and the smell of alcohol and tobacco mixed with the smell of sweat; people crowded in the center of the hall are surrounded by a fence of almost ten square meters, and two bald men are cheering and cheering. They scuffled together amid the insults.

Anson walked through these crowds. He looked just like ordinary guests in his coarse coat and linen scarf. His weapons were hidden in the Crown Tavern, and he only carried a roaster hidden in his boots. Blue Dagger.

According to Carlin Jacques, this old-fashioned gangster called "Hydra" is also involved in bootlegging and gambling; he also likes to use alcohol revelry and gambling to heat up the atmosphere and attract outsiders to join.

... "The real party doesn't really start until the gambling is over," explains Karin Jacques

"Usually they entice everyone in the room to gamble with huge sums of money - craps, roulette, sausage-eating contests, death-fights...with wildly exaggerated comparisons, of course, the vast majority of People will lose everything."

"Wait until the gamble is over and the party officially begins; if you've won several rounds at the game, you'll be invited to a certain table to 'drink a few drinks', and those people are the bosses of the Old Gods gang."

"They'll give you a few 'mini-quests', and they'll give you a 'reward' - usually a batch of bootlegs and women - and then give you a few new quests, repeating it for a second or two month, you can join them."

"This Old God Sect organization...why does it sound like it has nothing to do with the Old God Sect?" Anson couldn't help asking.

"Most of the Old Gods organizations have nothing to do with the Old Gods." Karin Jacques shook his head

"They are a group of gangsters of spellcasters, smugglers or thieves-the old gods organization that really involves the 'big plan' level, and there are probably only black mages in Clovis City."

"You still know the 'big plan'?"

"I'm a devout Ring of Order follower, of course I know."

... Tightening the scarf around his neck, Anson squeezed through the crowd and walked to the corner of the hall that looked like a bar.

"I'm going to bet."

"Five copper coins for one bet, and there is no cap on the top."

The man dressed like a bartender swiftly counted the copper plates on the table, holding a cigarette **** without raising his voice.

Anson took out a silver coin from his pocket and threw it directly into his arms. "Can you press anything?"

"Of course!"

The bright bartender caught the silver coin in mid-air and looked up at Anson, who was a little thin. "What do you like to bet, dice or roulette?"

Ten minutes later, Anson, who had taken off his scarf and coat, walked into the fence and smiled at the surprised bald man standing opposite him.

"Gentlemen, we have an extra game!"

A man with red symptoms on his upper body, but only a pair of shorts and a clown hat on his lower body jumped onto the high platform, with a distorted smile on his face, shouting and gesturing at the sweaty crowd.

"Anson Bach, new to the party for the first time, challenges our old friend Bob 'The Bald'!"

"The rules of the game are limited to five minutes. After five minutes, as long as the new face can still stand up, everyone who bets on him will win five times the bet!"

"And if he wins...if he wins...that's tenfold~~~~!"

The clown with a long tail raised his hands above his head, and the crowd gathered around the fence also cheered and excited with his gestures, shouting loudly with a mug full of poor wine.

"Kill him! Kill him!"

"Bob! Bob! Bob!"

The whole hall fell into a crazy carnival, and the restless atmosphere continued to spread in the air, staring at pairs of figures with bloodshot eyes, beating or waving things in their hands, and the random shouting became a splash of saliva. scream.

Bob, who was standing in the center of the carnival, looked at Anson who reached out his hand to greet him. Just when he was shocked, a certain figure came out of the crowd and whispered something in his ear~www.novelmt. com~ The next second, the bald man's surprised expression turned hideous.

"Now... the duel begins!"

Almost at the moment when the voice fell, the bald man slammed his knees and bowed his waist, his stout arms stretched out like iron tongs, and An Sen, who was still standing there like a cannonball, greeted him.

"Boom!"

The sound of flesh and flesh colliding was drowned in the carnival, Bob's arms had locked Anson's body, and everyone was waiting for the next scene...

"Pfft!"

Under the attention of all the people, Bob "bald" knelt on his knees, his stout body trembled and fell to his side, and his two big hands were helplessly pressing on his lower abdomen.

The smiling Anson still stood there, his right hand hidden at his waist kept a fist.

Looking at the strong man curled up like a shrimp on the ground, the carnival hall fell into a dead silence.