Chapter 102: Act 38 – Lohn
Tam unexpectedly reached level 6 in Alchemy, and with the advantage of equipment and venue, Brendel could confidently leave the task of crafting cursed crossbow bolts to him. The young man then took a poisoned dagger and a dwarven sword, calling Balthom to prepare to meet the Lohn from Black Pepper Lane.
He had been looking forward to meeting this crippled man known as ‘Lohn’ for quite some time, especially since he was eager to discover whether there were follow-up tasks related to the Ring of Queen Wind. Moreover, as far as he knew, Lohn was somewhat connected to Bruglas and those gray areas, and perhaps he could count on an introduction to contact those underground auction houses.
Balthom’s red beard was too conspicuous, so the two men donned inconspicuous cloaks and left the house one after the other. Brendel noticed that the business lady, who was supposed to follow them, was nowhere to be seen, likely off to some undisclosed “adventure.”
However, as he just pulled down the edge of his hood, he heard Balthom speaking behind him:
“Sir Knight, I thought about it, and I think your method, my lord, is not secure enough.”
“What?” Brendel asked, hiding his elven sword under his cloak and turning around.
“There have been many refugees who have seen us. Although you kept them silent, the more people there are, the more thoughts emerge. We can’t rule out the possibility of someone with ill intentions among them.” Balthom tucked his beard under his hood, looking around cautiously as he replied.
“That was never a secret to the discerning, but the nobles only need results. As long as I don’t attract attention, they would prefer it,” Brendel thought for a moment and replied, “And I need a period of time without being noticed, Balthom.”
“But I still think we should have kept all those refugees back then.”
Brendel smiled; that was probably the truth from this guy’s heart. He shook his head and said, “Gathering refugees openly would only invite jealousy. Moreover, not everyone is willing to follow us sincerely. Balthom, people may clutch at straws during their misfortunes, but they don’t hold on to them all the time—”
Balthom nodded, but secretly he disagreed. He wanted to suggest that there might be better ways. From Brendel’s methods of operation, it was clear to him that this young knight had grand ambitions, which was why he hoped Brendel would pay more attention to cultivating his own strength.
But Brendel was not worrying about that issue. He was more concerned about the attention of Everything Returns Society. Few people who saw him back in Ridenburg were still alive, but if he made too outstanding a performance, it would inevitably raise suspicion.
However, when he killed the White Knight, there were only a few close companions at his side, which was his biggest support. It was hard for ordinary people to take a black iron downstream strength person like him seriously.
But in any case, time was of the essence. As long as he could grow strong quickly, Everything Returns Society would merely be a bunch of lurking phantoms.
Black Pepper Lane was the largest of Bruglas’s several slums—
In Brendel’s memory, this was not his first time visiting this place filled with dirty waters and scurrying rats. Nonetheless, under the sweltering heat of summer, the unbearable stench lingering in the air was still extremely uncomfortable.
On the contrary, Balthom appeared quite natural, as their mercenaries were indeed frequent visitors to such places as part of the gray crowd. Brendel knew that many sordid livelihoods were hidden in the darkness of this alley—hyena-like bounty hunters and vulgar low-class prostitutes, mingling with mercenaries, thieves, and unscrupulous merchants, as if this soil was inherently meant to breed an aura of evil and corruption.
But here, among the poor families, one could occasionally witness the most genuine of human interactions.
The young man could not judge such a place, nor did he intend to. He noticed the dirty-clothed children carefully avoiding him, then hiding to greedily watch him from the sides, alongside the vaguely malicious glances around, instinctively raising his guard.
Brendel stopped in front of an old wooden door, looked up, and spotted the triangular carving on the beam. Confirming this was Lohn’s home, he knocked on the door—
Thud, thud, the wooden door seemed ready to crack open, producing a layer of dust.
Balthom beside him couldn’t help but frown, muttering, “It’s hard to imagine that people live in such a place. When I visited those Lenchek people in the slums of Kewima, I’ve never seen a place so shabby. You know, my lord, those guys are living like cavemen—”
But before he could finish speaking, the door creaked open. The mercenary had no choice but to swallow his words.
A shadowy gaze fell on Balthom, pausing for a moment before speaking in a hoarse voice, “Brendel? When did you return from Buche? It’s surprising you didn’t d*e!”
“If I were dead, what good would it do you, Lohn?” Brendel replied coldly, eyeing the gaunt old man with a sharp nose and sunken features, whose few sparse hairs seemed about to fall out from worrying about scheming against others.
However, Lohn seemed to enjoy it, chuckling twice and fixing his triangular eyes with more whites than green on the two men, saying, “So, Brendel, you’ve made it big? Brought a new guest for me?”
Before Brendel left Bruglas, he had pawned quite a few personal items to Lohn, which was why he had become involved with this shady character, who had long coveted the oil painting in Brendel’s grandfather’s old manor—ironically, Brendel had no idea how Lohn knew about it.
The young man glanced at him, and the sharpness in his gaze made Lohn involuntarily shrink back.
“You seem a bit different, Brendel,” the old man hesitated.
“After going through so much, everyone changes,” Brendel replied but was unwilling to waste more words. He directly asked, “Do you still want that oil painting of my grandfather’s?”
Lohn froze, his little triangular eyes instantly lighting up, “Of course, of course. What, did you bring it, Brendel?”
But before he could finish his sentence, he felt a gleaming sword pressed against his neck. The loan shark, who had spent his days scheming against others, couldn’t help but tremble, his legs giving way.
“I don’t have much patience. Tell me, was my grandfather’s painting stolen by your people?” Brendel asked coldly, his eyes seemingly radiating frost.
Balthom turned back and saw several people trying to run away; he picked up some stones from the ground and threw them. The sudden assault made the fleeing figures cry out, and then he nodded to Brendel and sprinted toward them.
Lohn felt even less secure witnessing this scene and couldn’t help but scream, “Brendel, listen to me, it wasn’t me! How could I dare to offend…”
Suddenly realizing something was amiss, he hurriedly shut his mouth, “Brendel, you know me. Although I won’t work early without profit, I would never break the rules.”
Brendel took a glance at him and saw his little triangular eyes turning quickly, realizing that this guy had caught on. He could not truly k*ll someone. Although he felt some disappointment, he still sheathed his sword: “I accept your explanation. Now let’s talk about other business.”
“Other business? Brendel, I can’t handle your kind of business too often.” Lohn rubbed his neck as if confirming his head was still firmly attached, speaking nervously.
“Hmph, that thing is missing. My grandfather wants my life, so I’ll have to take yours.” Brendel replied partially in jest.
Lohn hurriedly denied it, “I know, I know. Don’t worry, I will help you gather news on this matter.” But while saying this, he was internally complaining about who had the audacity to break the rules and touch that item.
He couldn’t help but glance at Brendel’s hands, which, as he suspected, were empty.
After thinking for a moment, he asked, “Speaking of your grandfather, Brendel, your family might be looking for you; won’t you go back and check?”
Brendel shot him a glance: “Not for now. I’ll go back once I find the items.” He said this, but he was actually afraid of bringing trouble to his family at this time. After all, it was a tumultuous period; it was best to endure for now.
Thinking of his father, Brendel couldn’t help but sigh. Although he possessed another half-soul, his original soul resonated with that emotion.
“Alright then.” Lohn seemed to have confirmed that Brendel wouldn’t cause him trouble, so he continued, “What business do you want to conduct, Brendel?”
“I urgently need money; I want to sell some good items,” Brendel glanced at Lohn, thinking that dealing with this kind of bully was indeed as Retao said; one must first give him a show of power to get things done: “Of course, don’t think you can use the old tricks against me anymore. I’m telling you, Lohn, I’m not the same Brendel as before.”
As expected, Lohn shrank back.
“Rest assured, I won’t pursue what I gave you before, but if you try any tricks this time, it won’t be so easy.” The young man tossed a pouch of coins at Lohn’s feet, “I just need you to make an introduction; the reward is the same as before, and I have two more things I need your help with.”
“You say, you say,” Lohn hurriedly replied.
“First, help me find a person. A woman, around thirty years old, with very rare purple hair and eyes in this area. Within a week, if you have any news about her, come to ‘Ragombun’ market to find me.”
Lohn quickly nodded, thought for a moment, then shook his head as if he had never seen such a person.
Brendel didn’t expect him to have news immediately, so he continued, “The second thing is, I am looking for another person—a small nobleman named Borg? Nesson. You are the most infamous local snake in Bruglas, you must know such a fallen noble, right?”
Upon hearing this, Lohn hesitated and replied, “Brendel, I think I’ve heard that name, but he disappeared a few years ago.”
“Doesn’t matter; I’m looking for his wife.”
“His wife?”
“Exactly, I want to know where his wife and daughter live.”
“His wife passed away two years ago. I know his daughter; she lives not far from here. Brendel, is this person related to you?” Lohn couldn’t help but ask curiously.
Unexpectedly, this question brought Brendel’s elven sword flashing before him, making Lohn flinch. Brendel took the chance to sheath his sword and looked at him saying, “Do you want to know?”
“No, Brendel, there’s no need. I’ll tell you how to get there—” Lohn quickly shook his head.
…
(PS. The following is a post originally published by someone on LK.
[One moment I have a stomach ache, the next I have a cold, then I go out to eat, then I don’t eat for two days. One moment I have a headache, another moment I have a stomachache… all of a sudden I want to run away from home and rent a place to live myself, then my family helps with management… everyone is a creature with intelligence, your readers are not kindergarten kids… every time there’s a break, there’s definitely a reason, and the reasons are basically absurd.
Even the before and after don’t match… a lie is a technique. Practice it more.])
Looking at this post, I couldn’t help but feel nauseous. Apparently, my daily struggle with severe stomach pain while still insisting on typing is seen as a lie by some people! Even persisting to write while disconnected from the internet is regarded as a lie!
d*mn it, if I’m going to make excuses for being lazy, at least I should genuinely be lazy. Everyone calculate how much was that amount of updates since Amber started V. Excluding today’s updates, that’s 365,000 characters; removing 240,000 characters from the public version, by the 15th, I managed to update 120,000 characters in 15 days, averaging 8,000 characters per day.
This is called laziness; I’m serious about writing. Just like many books filled with useless fluff, everyone can see through it.
Seeing my efforts and pain being depreciated by some NC and my hard work being ignored, my suffering being dismissed as lies is truly painful.
Fortunately, such brainless individuals are in the minority; many more friends support me silently.
Thank you; you are the motivation for me to continue writing.
I want to especially thank Frog and bl**d for their support and defense against me in that post. You provided evidence that hit certain haters hard, which is immensely satisfying.
I sincerely hope certain haters will disappear from this book; if this book bothers you, please show some self-respect. During this festive season, don’t be like me, with my stomach bloated to the point of bursting, feeling so uncomfortable that I can’t even sleep.)(To be continued; for more chapters, please log in, support the author, and support legitimate reading!)
