I will be crowned king

The pattering cold rain envelops the dirty gray fog, covering the clear sky of Clovis City. The street lights that are still not extinguished are like stars to guide the direction of the coachmen. They whip their whips to direct the carriages to shuttle through the streets splashed with mud and water.

The passers-by who were half-sprayed could only curse a few times, but could only wrap up their cold and wet coats and continue walking quickly, looking at the windows of the cafes on the street with longing eyes, but not daring to stop.

The city of Clovis at the beginning of December in the 101st year of the Saint's Calendar was such a place that people were so anxious that they dared not stop for a cup of coffee.

Stepping through the mud left by the carriage on the construction site, the man wearing a black high-collar leather windbreaker lowered the brim of his hat and glanced at the job notice on the wall.

The rain-soaked advertising paper was stuck to the door of the closed cafe, and the words "The quota for the factory protection team is full, and those with skills will be given priority" can be seen in the blurred handwriting.

Factory protection team... This is not a new term. A long time ago, business owners in Clovis City would recruit some gangsters while running factories, and issue them with some weapons to act as thugs.

Of course, there are more advanced "games". Rich nobles will directly hire security companies. After all, they are experienced and well-equipped and can handle problems in most situations.

However, these two types are now outdated... Along the wall, the man looked straight ahead, and there happened to be a crowd of people passing by on the street.

Standard solid color uniforms, neat and uniform military Leyden rifles and a full set of equipment. The person walking at the front even held a triangular flag in his hand. Newly arrived outsiders would mistakenly think that this is the person responsible for public security in Clovis City. Patrolling troops.

But these people, who appear to be more disciplined than the army, are really just workers on a factory guard team.

The factory protection teams from the two factories met at the joint. In the past, they would probably have fought against their boss's competitors. There were so many trivial matters in the outer city that no newspaper was willing to publish them.

At a street intersection in full view of everyone, the leaders of both sides first asked their companions behind them to stop, then took the initiative to step forward, taking off their hats and saluting the leader on the other side like a gentleman, and then continued to move forward without anyone looking at the other.

The two groups of heavily armed people met each other on the street, which was not even enough to make the pedestrians around them take a second look. They still hurried on, as if it was just a trivial matter.

This kind of "spectacle" has only appeared in the past six months, but it has already been taken for granted by most people.

Just when the man was shaking his head with emotion, a figure suddenly stopped right in front of him:

"Sir, please stay!"

He looked at the leader of the factory protection team who suddenly stood in front of him, and after five seconds he said:

"...is something wrong?"

"Looking at you, you should have just come from the White Lake District and are going to Friedrich Street, right?" The leader of the factory protection team took off his hat and said politely:

"That's right, we happened to have a worker who escaped and fled to the inner city. Some people said they saw him selling newspapers in the park. Can you ask me about it?"

"Selling newspapers, that's such a shame...I don't usually read that stuff." He smiled and shook his head: "And I don't live here, I just happen to have something happen to me."

"Also, I have another suggestion for you. If I were that worker, I would never choose to sell newspapers on this street. You'd better look elsewhere."

"Oh, why is that?"

"Because Clovis Cathedral is on the nearby Red Street, where Whitehall police patrol the most frequently. If there really is an unemployed homeless man wandering the street, can he still be safe now?"

"It makes sense!" The team leader suddenly realized: "Thank you for reminding us, we will set off now - everyone, the rear team becomes the front team, let's go!"

As soon as the words fell, dozens of heavily armed workers turned around in unison and trotted away in the direction they came from.

"In the past, the nursing team was used to deal with gangsters, but now it is being used to deal with our own people..."

The man who chuckled quietly looked at the backs of the nursing team and continued walking towards Friedrich Street.

Perhaps it was the coat that looked expensive at first glance that made the street newsboys and coachmen extremely interested in him; they clamored to sell him the latest exclusive news and repeatedly emphasized how smooth and fast their carriages were. , willing to give him a "real conscience price" for this "destined person".

The experienced man chose to remain silent, and sure enough, the people who came to surround him left cursing before he walked through a single street; then there were new newsboys and salesmen holding advertising paper, like groundhogs, starting from the first street. Jumped out from the corner of two streets.

Enjoying the excitement he was accustomed to, he continued to walk along the rainy and misty streets towards his goal, not a step too fast nor a step too slow, just enough to keep the crowd surrounding him.

As usual, Friedrichstrasse is still a lively and prosperous place; the chaos of the outer city and the vibration of the inner city cannot have any impact here; cafes, tobacco shops, dessert houses, high-end restaurants, clubs, tailor shops , ready-made clothing store...

The real aristocrats disdain to come to this kind of place, and the workers in the outer city regard this place as a imaginary paradise; the group caught in the middle works hard all day long, and uses their occasional leisure time and nightlife to support this place. A beautiful man-made scene.

The man who got rid of the crowd took out a sterling silver pocket watch from his arms, with a smile on his face that showed he was not late, and happily walked into the appointed cafe.

As soon as he walked in, he saw his "distinguished guest" - wrapped in a brand new coat, curled up in the inner corner like a winter spider, with nothing in front of him except a glass of water.

When he said that he and the gentleman were at the same table, he even saw a hint of disdain that he could not hide in the waiter's eyes.

"Two cups of coffee, one pork pie, one black pepper kielbasa, and yes, there are snacks. I remember that your cherry cake here is pretty good, right? Let's have one...no, two pieces." The man casually said He returned the menu to the waiter and put a gold coin note inside:

"Remember to have one cup of coffee without sugar, and bring the milk and put it in ourselves - otherwise you don't want a tip!"

The waiter who hurriedly took the menu immediately acted out what it means to be arrogant and courteous in the literal sense, and turned around and left as quickly as possible. The man strolled to the table and knocked on the guest's table:

"Didn't I give you money? Why didn't you order anything?"

"But the things here are too expensive!"

The frightened guest suddenly raised his head and said in a low voice with fear on his face: "A cup of coffee costs two silver coins, and a palm-sized cake costs ten silver coins!"

"Ten silver coins can be exchanged for a large jar of jaggery. Why don't they grab it?!"

"Uh... maybe it's not necessary, because the guests who come here will pay obediently for the sake of face." The man chuckled softly:

"What's more, this is the newest coffee shop on Friedrich Street. The coffee beans used are all truly top-quality. The pastry styles closely follow the imperial trend. The pie recipe comes from the Osterian court delicacies, pork and The flour is also provided by the wealthy manor, so it’s absolutely guaranteed.”

"...So what does this have to do with their high prices?"

"The relationship is that with these, they can confidently steal money - of course, my money to be precise." The man smiled and stared at his distinguished guest:

"As the one who paid for it, I hope Little John's lung disease is cured and he likes his new home."

"Yes, yes, it has been cured - the doctor said that his illness was caused by the environment he lived in was too humid and lacked hygiene!"

The "distinguished guest" who was questioned nodded repeatedly, showing a grateful look: "Here is the ring of order! This is the first time I have seen him look at my incompetent father with admiring eyes. Our whole family is grateful to you... "

"There's no need. We are friends. We just get what we need." The man smiled and shook his head: "Mr. John, your potential and ability are worth my investment. You don't owe me anything."

"So rather than being grateful, I hope you can show your due strength as soon as possible and make me feel that my money is well spent."

"As you can see, I am not a truly rich person. I live on salary just like you did in the past. I really don't want to see my money not being used as it should be."

The meaningful words made John shiver uncontrollably, and his eyes began to become wandering.

He fiddled with the water glass on the table and continued: "On the way here, I met a team of nurses who just passed by here."

"They said that a worker escaped from the factory and ran to this street to sell newspapers. They asked me if I knew such a guy."

"Hi... you also know that you are the only worker I know. I don't know if you have ever sold newspapers."

"But I still told them that they don't need to bother here. There might be more hope for them to go shopping elsewhere, but..."

"Sir!" John suddenly shouted, his expression trembling as if he had been struck by lightning: "I..."

"Don't talk yet."

With a chuckle, he raised his hand to stop the other party, and pointed at the waiter who was carrying a plate full of delicacies and came to serve the food diligently: "You have spent so much money, why don't you enjoy it?"

The silent John pursed his lips tightly, first staring into the eyes of the person opposite him in fear, but soon his attention was attracted by the delicious food on the table, and his throat twitched back and forth unsatisfactorily.

The man did not lie. The cherry cake in this cafe is very delicious, and the coffee beans are also high-quality imported from Hantu. These luxuries that originally only appeared on the tables of nobles have become much cheaper because of the jihad and have flowed into the restaurant. And on the cafe menu.

Clovis people, who have never been as rich in material resources as they are today, enjoy rare happiness. Even ordinary workers in the outer city can afford to buy raw sugar and drink milk.

Sipping his coffee slowly, the man looked at John who was still unfinished after clearing the table full of food, and handed over the napkin very politely.

"Thank you so much, Hiccup!"

Wiping his greasy mouth vigorously, John carefully folded the napkin and stuffed it into his jacket pocket very skillfully: "I, I have never eaten anything so delicious."

"Really? Then you will probably eat them until you don't want to eat them anymore." He raised his eyebrows: "After all, even if you want to, you can't go back to the outer city now."

As soon as the words fell, John's face suddenly showed a melancholy color.

"I...Sir, I understand what you want from me." John stammered again:

"I can tell you everything I know, really, as long as you don't let me go back to that place!"

"It's natural." The man nodded seriously: "No one would want to go back to that horrible place. I can't even believe that if I were you, I would have the courage to escape from there! "

"But since you have left there, for the safety and happiness of little John, you should make a complete break with it."

"I personally think that telling me all the information you know is the best way to end it."

"Come on, let's not be in a hurry. Let's recall it carefully. How much do you really know about our mutual friend 'Whispers'?"

Just hearing that name made John's body tremble again.

"I, I actually know very little about him! I only know that he once hid because of some people and stopped showing up easily. Many people even thought he was dead."

"After the riot in Clovis City, quietly...he hid for another half a year before resurfacing in the same place, retrieving his former gang and subordinates, and showing off his power among the workers again."

"But this time he is different from before...well, actually I can't tell what is wrong, but I just feel like he has become...becomes..."

"Yes! I have become more confident, and I am not as timid as before. My style of doing things is no different from the 'old pocket watch' before, but occasionally I still look like a coward in private."

"He is still the coward he was before, so he only dares to wander around places where he is confident that it is absolutely safe. If he notices the slightest sign that something is wrong, he can run faster than a rabbit!"

"I... happen to know two places he often goes to." John swallowed, with a very frightened expression on his face: "Just, there is only one request. I hope you will not bring too many policemen from Whitehall Street with you. otherwise……"

"Who told you I was a policeman?" the man suddenly said.

"Why?"

John was stunned, as if something beyond his knowledge had happened: "Then, then you are..."

Looking at his dull expression, the man who laughed stood up, came to John's side, and said coldly in a low voice:

"Clovis Inquisition, Chief Inquisitor, Cole Dorian."

"On behalf of Clovis Cathedral and the Holy See, thank you for providing us with important information about apostates, Lord John."

"Plop!"

Without any warning, John, who was clearly sitting firmly on the chair, fell to the ground.