The Amber Sword

Tama unexpectedly arrived at level 6 alchemy, and with equipment and venue advantages, Brando could reassure him that the cursed crossbow was being refined. Then the young man took the quenching dagger and the dwarf's sword and called Barthom to meet the cripple in Black Pepper Lane.

He had been looking forward to meeting the lame man known as' Lorne 'for some time, especially since he was anxious to know whether there was a follow-up to the wind ring. And as far as he knows, there's more or less a connection between the limp and the gray areas of Prague, and maybe he can count on him to refer him to the auction houses underground.

Batom's red beard was too eye-catching, so the two of them went out with a cloak to cover their eyes. Brando didn't see the merchant lady who promised to follow him, but he probably didn't know where the adventure had gone.

But he just pulled down the edge of the hood and heard Barthom say in the back:

“Master Knight, I've thought about it, and I don't think your approach is safe enough. ”

“What?” Brando hid the Pokémon Sword under the cape and asked back.

“Many of our refugees were seen in the first place, and although you silenced them, the more they got, the more they thought. I'm not sure there's any bad guys in here.” Barthom received his beard under his hood, looked around and answered carefully.

“This would not have been hidden from the hearts, but the nobles would have had enough of one result. I didn't get out of the picture, and they were more than happy to see it,” Brando thought about it, "and I needed a time that wasn't noticed, Bartom. ”

“But I still feel that those refugees should have been left behind. ”

Brando laughed. That's what this guy meant. He shook his head: "The bright and upright gathering of refugees was too much jealousy, and not everyone was willing to come with us sincerely. Batom, people catch straw because they're in trouble, but they don't catch it all the time --"

Barthom nodded, but he didn't think so. He wanted to know if there might be a better way, from the way Brando acted, to follow the young knight around. Of course, he was the easiest to see. Brando's will was probably not small, so he preferred Brando to focus more on his own strength.

But Brando wasn't thinking about it. He was even more worried about the attention of the return of all things. There were not many people who had met him in Lidenburg today, but if he performed too well, it would inevitably give rise to suspicion.

But when he slaughtered the White Knight, he was surrounded by only a few intimate men, which was his greatest dependence. Normally, it's hard to see a man like him downstream in black iron.

But anyway, anyway, time. As soon as you get stronger, everything will return for a while to be nothing more than a ghost charmer hiding in the dark.

Black Pepper Lane is one of the largest slums in Pragues--

It was not the first time in Brando's memory that he had come to this dirty water stream, where mice were roaming the streets. But anyway, in the dull summer climate, the smell of nasal stench is still making him very uncomfortable.

Rather, Batom is a very natural figure, and their mercenaries, as a grey crowd, are often visitors to places like this. Brando knows that in the darkness of this alley there are many hideous livelihoods - bounty hunters like hyenas and vulgar junior prostitutes, where mercenaries, thieves and illegal businessmen mix, as if the soil was born to breed evil and corruption.

But here, among the poor, you can occasionally see the most sincere scene between people.

Young people are unable to evaluate such places, nor are they interested in doing so. He saw children dressed in dirty clothes carefully circling around themselves, then hiding on both sides looking greedily in this direction, and those around him consciously raising their guard if they had any unfavourable eyes.

Brando stopped in front of an old wooden door, and he looked up and saw the triangular mark on the beam. Confirm that this is the home of the cripple, then knock on the door--

Pompous, wooden doors are like breaking at any time, shaking a layer of ash on them.

Barthom couldn't help but frown and said: “It's hard to imagine that this kind of place would be inhabited. I met those Lenhicks in the slums of Kowalma, and I've never seen a place as cold as this, you know, my lord, and those guys are already like cavemen ——"

But before he finished, Brando's men opened the door with a squeak. The mercenary had to open his mouth and plug the second sentence back into his stomach.

A shady look behind the door fell on Barthom, stopping for a moment before opening with a dull voice: "Brando? When did you get back from Butch? By the way, you're not dead. How unexpected! ”

“What's in it for you if I die, limp? ”

Brando replied coldly, looking at the old man with the pointy-mouthed monkey beak, the only few sparse hairs on his head seemed to fall because he was so desperate to count.

But the cripple seemed tired, and he laughed down twice, staring at two people with a pair of white eyes more than the triangular eyes of a blue pupil, and saying, "What, Brando, are you developed now? Bring me a new guest? ”

Before leaving Prague, Brando lost a lot of personal stuff to the limp, which is why he got involved with this guy whose face and inside were so bad, who's been coveting that painting in Grandpa Brando's old house for three feet - in fact, Brando didn't know how the limp knew about it.

The young man swept him, and the sharpness in his eyes made the cripple unbearably shrink back.

“You… seem a little different, Brando.” The old man hesitated for a moment.

“After so much experience, one can change.” Brando replied, but he didn't want too much nonsense. Instead, he asked, "Do you still want my grandfather's painting? ”

With a limp, the little triangular eye immediately emitted light: “Sure, sure, why, did you bring it? Brando? ”

But before he could finish, he felt a glittering sword on his neck. This guy, who spent the whole day lending sharks and counted the rest of his family with bad stomach, couldn't help beating a shiver and his legs softened.

“I'm not patient enough to tell me if my grandfather's paintings were stolen by your people.” Brando asked coldly, staring at this guy, his eyes like they were going to let out the cold light.

When Barthom turned around and saw several people turning around, he ran away, picking up several stones from the ground and throwing them. Suddenly they cried and shouted, then he said hello to Brando and walked over there.

The cripple saw the scene more bottomless and couldn't help but scream: "Brando, listen to me. Of course it's not me. How dare I offend...”

He suddenly realized something was wrong and hurried to shut up: “Brando, you know me, though I'm not up early. But I won't break the rules. ”

Brando glanced at the guy and saw his tiny triangular eyes spinning, knowing that the guy had already reacted. He can't really kill people, but let go of the sword, despite some disappointment in his heart: "I accept your explanation, let's talk about other business. ”

“Other business? Brando, I can't stand this business more than once.” The cripple touched his neck, as if to confirm whether his head was still on it, couldn't help but palpitate.

“Huh, that thing is missing. My old man wanted my life, and I had to kill you.” Brando answered half the time.

The cripple hastily denied: “I know, I know, don't worry, I'll help you find out about this.” But when he said that, he was defaming his heart, and whoever was so bold broke the rules had to move that thing.

He couldn't bear to look into Brando's hands, but it was as empty as he thought.

He thought about it and asked: "Speaking of your old man, Brando. I'm afraid your family is asking for your information. Aren't you going back? ”

Brando swept him: “Not yet. Not until I get my things back.” He said that, but he was afraid to go back to bring trouble to his family at this time. After all, this is the autumn of many things, let's just bear with it.

When I think of my father, Brando can't help but sigh. Though he possesses half the other soul, the original soul in his body echoes it.

“Okay.” The limp seemed to confirm that Brando wouldn't really bother him, so he continued, “What kind of business do you want, Brando? ”

“I desperately need money, I want to sell some good stuff," Brando glanced at the cripple and tried to deal with this bullying, frightening, hard guy, as Leito said, "You have to give him a ride before you can do something:“ Of course, you can never use that trick against me again, I tell you lame, I'm not that Brando anymore. ”

The cripple did shrink his neck.

“Don't worry, I won't go after what I used to give you, but this time you play tricks again, it won't be so good.” Young people throw a bag of money at the limp's feet: "I just need you to refer me, as usual, and I need your help with two other things. ”

“You say, you say.” The cripple replied hastily.

“First thing, help me find someone. Woman, about thirties years old, very rare purple hair and eyes in this area, within a week, if you hear from her, come to the 'La Gomboune' market right away. ”

The cripple nodded in a hurry and thought about it, but then shook his head again, as if he had never seen such a person in his mind.

Brando didn't expect to hear from him immediately, and he said, "Second thing, I'm looking for someone else —— there used to be a little nobleman in the area called Borg? Nathan, you're the most famous groundsnake in Prague, such a despicable nobleman you'll ever know, right? ”

The cripple listened and hesitated, "Brando, I think I've heard that name before, but he disappeared a few years ago. ”

“It's okay, I'm looking for his wife. ”

“Wife? ”

“Yes, his wife and his daughter, where do they live? ”

“His wife passed away just two years ago. His daughter, I know, lives not far from here. Brando, is this a relative of yours?” The cripple couldn't help but ask curiously.

Unexpectedly, the phrase led to Pokémon's sword waving in front of him. The limp shrunk. Brando took advantage of the sword and went into the sheath. He glanced at him and said, "Do you want to know? ”

“No, Brando, it's not necessary. I told you how to go ——" Cripple shakes his head right away.

……

(PS. Below is someone's original post on LK.

[I have a stomachache, a cold, I go out to eat, I haven't eaten for 2 days. Headaches, stomachaches... running away from home renting your own house,

For a while the family helps manage... everyone is an IQ creature, your reader is not a kindergarten kid... and every time you cut it, there must be a reason, and the reason is basically unknown.

Not even backwards and forwards..... lying is a skill. Practice more.]

Look at this post. I have to get sick for a while. It turns out my stomach hurts like hell every day and I still insist that the code word is a lie to some people! Stick to the code while you're out of the net, and the word is a lie!

Shit, even if I had to make excuses for being lazy, I'd have to be really lazy. Everyone counts Amber in V to update the number of words. Not counting today's update is 365,000 words, minus 240,000 words in the public edition, up to the 15th, a total of 120,000 words in 15 days. An average of 8,000 words a day.

It's called laziness, Amber writing is serious, but it's like a lot of books.

Watching one's own efforts, one's own pain is devalued by some NCs, one's own efforts are ignored, one's own pain is a lie, and it's a pain to death.

Fortunately, there are only a few people with this kind of brain damage, and there are many more friends who support me in silence.

Thank you, you're my motivation to keep writing.

Thank you very much here, Yamato Frog and Big Blood for facing my support and defense there. You slapped some spray hard with empirical evidence.

I sincerely hope that some jets get out of the book, the book is in your way, please. New Year's Eve, don't get as bloated as I am, you can't even sleep.) (To be continued, please go to www.qidian.com for more chapters, support the author, and support authentic reading!)