Medieval Reiki Revival

Chapter 24 The Secretary Wakes Up
Don Serra came over with the help of his attendants. His complexion was not very good-looking, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

That heroic face at the moment looked like a whore who wasted his time in the mansion of the Bois de Boulogne, pale as limestone.

"His Excellency Don Serra is here."

"It's him?"

"How did it become like this?"

The slovenly appearance is no different from the poor people in the Mostara district.

Along the way, countless ladies gave up their admiration. They covered their mouths with fans and talked in low voices. No one thought that a heroic knight would turn into such an unlucky appearance.

Ivan felt that this person's condition was really not very good, and he stumbled when he walked.

"Isn't he crazy?"

"Did you see the werewolf hit so hard that day?"

Ivan touched his chin. His potion can cure external injuries, but it can't cure the brain.

Baron Robespierre was afraid that he would interfere with the direction of the topic, so he quickly started the next step.

He publicized the found envelope, and the secretary of the mayor read it aloud after getting permission.

【Henry, your mission is to sneak into Earl Charlotte's manor and find their kitchen.

The wooden bottle contains a wonderful colorless and odorless poison. You have to find an opportunity to put this poison in Mazarin's meals.

As soon as Mazarin ate his meals, his spleen and stomach immediately began to rot.This is the perfect moment to show off our bandit name.Remember, the leader will always pay attention to this place, only success is not allowed to fail. 】

(The letter paper is bright yellow, the handwriting is messy, and there are traces of creasing.)
Someone exclaimed: "It's the Gang of Bandits."

Some people also wondered: "Who is the bandit gang?"

"Is there really such a group of people? I thought it was used by social personnel to scare children."

"No, ladies and gentlemen, the Gang of Bandits is real. They are a group of thieves, robbers, and beggars. Bravery can no longer be used to describe this group. Many businessmen have been forced to greet them."

"Yes, my servants were blackmailed by them, and I lost some gold Lang for nothing."

"So," said Baron Robespierre, "these guys are all aimed at the king. They want to continue to expand their sphere of influence, so they do such shocking things."

Misfortune is brought to the east, the scapegoat.

Now that Ivan understood everything, his stern face finally relaxed.

The beautiful eyes contained the light of a wise man, and the light red lips hooked slightly, revealing a smile in which everything was under control.

No one expected that a little doctor hiding in the crowd at this moment could completely see through the baron's plot and become the person with the clearest mind on the scene.

First, the evidence simply doesn't hold up.

Both of those things can only fool outsiders.

It doesn't stand up to scrutiny at all.

From arresting people, interrogating, searching for evidence, and pronouncing sentences, all of them are the baron's own people.

He is playing tricks on purpose, making everything seem natural.

That letter—was a fake.

A month ago, Ivan saw the real bandit gang letters from several businessmen in the hotel.

And from the first time he saw the letter, he knew that this group called "Bandit Gang" was by no means a simple thing.

Letter paper, ink.

Even the written font.

None of them are elegant.

Just like the legendary robber who robs the rich and helps the poor, although he has the habit of reaching out for money, but to be honest, he also has a bit of hypocrisy in his bones.

The current letter is not only scribbled, but even the letter paper is not coated with gelatin glue.

Ivan narrowed his eyes. Although his understanding of the Bandit Gang mainly came from other people, the gang of merchants were the most real first-line contacts.

Those businessmen who traveled north and south were just a little surprised when they received the "blackmail" letter, and they were not worried that this group of people would go back on their word.

This completely shows that itinerant merchants and bandit gangs have formed an invisible tacit understanding early on, because they are all low-level people, so they naturally know which businesses make money and which ones don't, and only fools can do it.

Businesses that make big money are in the hands of nobles, and businesses that make little money are dominated by merchants.

They are very powerful, but they are not suitable for official confrontation.

There are many of them, but they never show their faces at critical moments.

Sometimes a piece of news has just reached the ears of the nobles, but they already know about it. The bandits know the city better than the mayor.

"There is Spartacus among the slaves, and the people at the bottom can also write Aesop's fables."

Ivan reflected on himself. He still underestimated these inferior people. Although they did not have most of the resources of the era, if they reported to the group to keep warm, they might burst out with a lot of energy.

The nobles hadn't heard much about the Bandit Gang, so they naturally didn't feel threatened.

When Baron Robespierre planted the blame, people suddenly felt a crisis, like a poisonous snake that got under their own bed. Even though there were a few cushions, the owner was still worried that the other party would bite him unexpectedly. a mouthful.

"Whoever kills Lord Mazarin must die."

"Yes, these people must be sent to prison."

"Let the sheriff send someone to arrest this group of rioters."

"Where is the bandit gang hiding? They are messing around in our city."

People were excited, and they were afraid that they would be the next to die.

Suddenly, a servant from outside rushed in to report.

"Madam, Master Mazarin has woken up."

"what--!"

Except for Ivan who showed a strange smile, everyone was almost dumbfounded, including Baron Robespierre who planned everything.

Because in their discussion, the central character of the tragic story is ready to return to the bosom of the Lord.

How could he.
How can it be?

Baron Robespierre clenched his fist subconsciously, which was exactly the same as the sculpture of the Son above.

The baby was crying for mercy, but the Virgin's eyes were always looking forward, and the light on the wall was dazzling and yellow, until the direct light was deflected, and the light of purple glass shone behind it, and the focus was not lost.

　Sorry for the slow writing.

　　I really tried my best to write a good story.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)