A brave man may not live, but he cannot die

Chapter 111 Negotiation
Hearing this, Elon's expression remained unchanged.

He didn't rush to answer, but instead asked, "Senior, do you know my father?"

"He used to come and bring me wine occasionally."

The boss said indifferently, "The goods are okay, but I'm just a security guard at the college gate, so I don't think my connections will get me anywhere. Anyway, since he's been diligently delivering wine for so many years, I'll put up your campaign poster in the store. He's not as pleasing to the eye in person as he is on the poster."

When he heard "the security guard guarding the college gate", Elon's eyes flashed with intense shock.

"Are you Garen, the Witch Slayer?" Elon's voice became more and more respectful, almost like the reaction of a fan seeing his idol.

The boss crossed his legs, picked his toes, and rudely flicked some dandruff into the carriage.

"Your dad hasn't been here for a while, hasn't he? A year? Half a year? I don't go out much, so I don't have much of a sense of time, so I can't remember exactly. I asked the guy who put up your poster when he came, and he said your dad was sick."

The boss asked leisurely, "Have you checked the church yet?"

Elon responded fluently: "I saw it. Bishop Wendiya of the White Church held two masses for my father. He is almost well now and is in the recovery period."

"Good."

The boss doesn't care whether it's true or not.

"My sister, Xia Dai'er." Elon asked cautiously, "Is she disturbing you?"

"I'm open for business. Please excuse me for disturbing you." The boss paused and smiled. "But she bought two thousand bottles of juice from me."

"How much?" Elon thought he had misheard.

"But you, the dog, ran to the door of my tavern to pee. What's wrong? I can't even hold it together."

Elon smiled and said, "Thank you for not killing me. How about I renovate your tavern? Branson Trade has the best craftsmen. I promise to finish it in a week... no, five days. That will be my compensation."

The boss looked out the window with a nostalgic look.

He has lived in many houses in his life. Brothels, farmhouses, arcane workshops, chaebol mansions, palaces, and traveled around the world.
Until the end, after saving the world, he thought about finding a leisurely job after retirement, so he came to Ashwell to work as a security guard and opened a tavern.

This house was built by everyone together. A few guys who supposedly saved the world put it up brick by brick. That guy claimed he was a "civil engineering senior" and was absolutely reliable, but the house he built according to his blueprints was shockingly ugly. He still insisted it was called cement and that the structure was earthquake-resistant.
The paint on the walls started peeling off after just a few years of living here. They're as unreliable as ever.

".Lord Galen?"

Elon asked cautiously, "How about you pick a convenient time and I ask Mr. Theodosius to come and do a renovation survey for you? He is the best designer in the city and he designed the emperor's bedroom in Philippi—"

"You're just like your father, emitting the stink of a businessman." The boss didn't even look at him.

Elon knew that he was flattering the boss, so he immediately stopped talking about compensation or renovations.

"build"

"What are you building? Don't act like that." The guy wanted to tear down his own doghouse, and the boss looked at him angrily. "Go clean up your dog pee, then tear down the poster and get out."

Elon nodded humbly, saying less and making fewer mistakes.

Politics is a game of rules.

This doesn't apply to those who make the rules, or don't have to follow them.

There are not many people like this in the world.

And the person in front of me happens to be one of them.

The carriage sped very fast, and in just over ten minutes, it arrived at the Dema Tavern from Cloud Avenue.

When Caitlin saw a sloppy old man getting out of the carriage, she was obviously stunned. When did this man get in?

She was about to ask a question, but Elon stopped her with a look. She had never seen the young master look so stern.

"Senior, my sister..."

"Inside. Don't look at me like that. I run the shop. What could happen to her?"

The two walked in the forest, but not towards the door, but came to the tree where Hakimi had urinated.

"Clean it up."

The boss said unhappily.

Even after wiping it with dog hair, Elon's expensive shirt still had yellow stains on it. He squatted down decisively, without any of the airs of a congressman or a young master, took off his suit jacket, and used it as a rag to carefully wipe the tree roots.

He knew that the boss didn't want to harm the tree for some reason, and that only he could clean up the mysterious traces of dog urine. Seeing that he didn't mind the dirt, the boss's attitude finally improved a little.

"Why did you choose an ordinary dog ​​as your contracted beast? This is equivalent to giving up the benefits that a magical animal can bring. With Branson's financial resources and channels, it should be possible to find a fantasy species, right?" The boss asked casually when he was free.

Elon paused as he wiped the tree and confessed frankly, "I don't need to fight myself, and dogs have excellent sense of smell and insight. When a knight is given the abilities of a supernatural animal, they will more or less show up, but ordinary animals don't have that problem. They can help me hide my identity better, and there's no risk of losing control."

"Besides, didn't the strongest knight choose a contracted beast?"

He looked at the old man.

"Me? Come on, I'm not the strongest."

The boss remembered Elon’s campaign slogan on the poster:
Let's make Aishiwei's tomorrow brighter.

He looked at the young man with a hint of surprise.

"Where did you get this knowledge? The path to godhood through the Knight Path is not something a merchant family could know."

Elon cleaned the dog urine off the tree roots.

He was able to drive to the Dema Tavern because of this urine leading the way.

"I don't quite understand what you're talking about." There was no trace of stupidity on his face.

The boss clicked his tongue and turned away nonchalantly.

A kid who can't even draw a sword is far from it.

The wind chimes swung as the two men pushed the door open and entered. When they saw Elon following behind his boss, the gangsters who were whispering about things at the table were obviously stunned. They looked at the poster on the wall in disbelief, and then looked at the man whose coat and shirt were dirty and who exuded a foul smell.

"We're closed today, get out of here."

As soon as the boss said this, the drinkers withdrew their gazes and stood up, cleaning the table as quickly as possible - not forgetting to drink up the wine in the glass, and then put it neatly in the recycling box, for fear of causing any trouble in cleaning.

"Are these people from the Razor Gang? That man is from the White Bandits, right? Why are they sitting together?"

Elon recognized them.

The Razor Gang, the White Bandits, and the Golden Wind are the three largest gangs in Ashwell. The Razor Gang specializes in loan sharking and protection rackets, the White Bandits primarily work as thugs for factory owners, and the Golden Wind operates in the black market.

Like the Golden Wind, the Razor Gang is a gang mainly composed of people from the Western Continent, but the Razor Gang also includes a large number of orcs, and many of its members have no taboos, unlike the Golden Wind, which has strict requirements on the quality of its personnel.

The White Bandits are from the Northern Continent. It is said that they are a group of serious criminals who escaped from the Imperial Prison. They specialize in illegal activities. They have the smallest number of people, but each of them is a tough guy and no one dares to mess with them.

The Razor Gang and the White Bandit Gang have always been at odds with each other because of business conflicts. There have been dozens of fights, big and small, so Elon was so surprised to see them talking to each other in harmony.

"How should I know? I just run a pub." The boss's flip-flops made a shuffling sound as he walked.

"They." Elon quickly guessed the truth. "Are they negotiating with you?"

The boss remained noncommittal.

"Who cares what they do, just don't throw the cup."

Elon suddenly realized that it was no wonder that Ankua was able to track down the information about the Golden Wind.

It seems that the academy is not so laissez-faire towards the underworld forces in Eswell.

"Here, your sister is here, take her. Uh."

When Elon saw the scene in front of him, his face turned completely dark.

Quinn, carrying Xia Dai'er on his shoulders, happened to bump into the two of them.

His hands were pinching the girl's white and soft thighs, and his face was touching her buttocks - it was not intentional, but the development of some parts of her body was indeed very amazing. If he changed the direction to carry it, the heavy evil would probably crush him.

Quinn was also stunned when he saw Elon.

"I plan to take her upstairs to sleep," he said honestly.

Elon's face darkened even further.

"Oh no—" Quinn quickly added, "She's sleeping alone. I'm going to find her a bed. I can't just lie at the bar all afternoon. Xia Dai'er is drunk."

Then, as if to hide the truth, he loosened his hand that was supporting his thigh and blinked innocently: "I didn't do anything."

(End of this chapter)