I Will Be The Crowned King

Facing Lisa's "concern", Anson could only smile to express his gratitude, and at the same time swore that when he really needed it, he would never stop her from doing so.

Thinking of how she looked in front of the novelist named Draco just now, Anson faintly felt that the little girl beside him seemed a little different from when he first met.

Lisa in her memory would never be able to sit quietly in a crowded station, waiting for her to appear without anything happening, much less say something like "kill someone" so easily.

Could it be that when you were "resurrected", something happened that you didn't know about?

Anson, who was muttering inwardly, looked at the scenery outside the car window, and prepared to write it down in his diary before resting at night.

Because a certain "talking novelist" was not around, the next few minutes of the journey seemed very peaceful; he even looked at the business card handed to him by the other party while doing nothing.

On the crumpled hard card, there was only the other party's name, occupation and the newspaper address of the Clovis Truth.

Worn leather suitcases, old coats, crumpled business cards…

Would a freelance writer who writes second-class novels for the middle and lower-class mass newspapers and who can't even afford a better suitcase and a new coat, would choose a second-class box?

An Sen, who was a little confused in his heart, couldn't help but think in the way of the other party, and subconsciously took out his pocket watch from his jacket pocket.

11:10... There are still 20 minutes before the meal is served on the train.

He said just now... going to the dining car to see what's on for lunch today?

"Lisa."

"Um?"

The little head who was lying on the window watching the scenery raised back.

"Stay in the box and don't move around. I'll buy you a cake."

"Cake?!" Lisa's eyes lit up:

"Is it that pretty, sweet thing called canned fruit - that cheapskate Karl, who gave me one the day he left!"

"…Roughly the same?"

Touching her forehead, Anson stood up and put the pocket watch in front of Lisa, who was squinting and enjoying: "Have you seen the dial? I'll be back when the long needle reaches the 'six'."

"Um."

"Before this, no matter who knocks on the door - even the flight attendant who came to deliver the meal - don't open the door for him, understand?"

"Yes!"

Lisa, who took the pocket watch, gave him a military salute with a stern face.

An Sen nodded, and buttoned the coat with the raised collar on the three buttons on the chest, slightly covering the military uniform underneath. After confirming that the box door was locked from the inside, he walked in the direction of the dining car with confidence.

From where he was to the dining room, there were only two carriages, eleven and twelve, and there was no one in the aisle—because the Steel Sky provided food delivery service for the first and second class carriages, and there were only a few in the spacious and bright carriages. Men of the same age, dressed in similar formal attire, sat by the window smoking and chatting, or drinking alone in front of the bar in a slightly decadent manner.

There are no women.

And then... there was no novelist who claimed to be going to the dining car to "see the dishes".

"It's really not surprising at all..."

Anson, who was talking to himself in a low voice, walked towards the waiter at the bar—considering that he was noticed by the blood mage Kroger in Thunder Fort, he didn't use his "power" to search directly.

Although this probability is not high, the casters who believe in the old gods are the key surveillance targets of the Church of Order, and even if they are discovered, they will not dare to expose them in broad daylight.

Including Anson himself.

"Have a glass of rum, oh... By the way, have a cake and help me pack it."

An Sen, who once had the experience of "negotiating" with the flight attendant, smiled at the waiter in front of the bar while taking out the money: "Can I ask you a small question by the way?"

"What brand of rum do you want?" The waiter with a neat uniform and a small top hat turned his head, as if he hadn't heard his last sentence.

"Special for the Navy."

Anson shrugged slightly... He only knew this one.

Glancing at the army officer's uniform under his coat, the somewhat surprised waiter nodded without turning his head behind him:

"Three silver coins, one cake, and a glass of Tirpitz rum with ice for this gentleman!"

After dozens of seconds, a glass of dark red liquid with ice cubes was brought to him. The square ice cubes filled at least one-third of the space of the wine glass.

Knowing this, I asked for no ice, the profiteer's trick... An Sen, who was smiling, placed six silver coins under the tray of the wine glass:

"I want to find someone."

"Who?"

The calm waiter wiped the bar counter, and the silver coins on the table disappeared in the blink of an eye.

"A friend." Anson played with the wine glass in his hand: "His name is..."

"boom!"

The moment he opened his mouth, a loud bang knocked open the door of the dining car.

The smoky, whispering dining car suddenly fell silent.

An Sen, who was holding a wine glass, followed the waiter's line of sight and looked behind him from the corner of his eye:

Three men in officers' uniforms rushed into the carriage. The clothes were similar to the army, but they were a little different. The cuffs were not the standard copper buttons of army officers but silver buttons. Accessories.

While An Sen was still in a large number, the three people had already come towards the bar, and the leader stood directly beside An Sen, staring at the waiter viciously:

"A man with red hair and a ponytail came over to the dining car, did you see it?"

"I, I, I, I..." The shivering waiter's eyes went straight.

"Did you see it?! Talk!"

"No, no!"

The startled waiter shrank his neck and almost fell backward: "No such person comes to the dining car!"

The officer who heard the words frowned, turned his head to look at the two companions with ugly expressions behind him, and took a deep breath unwillingly, "Bang!" Leather wallet smashed on the table:

"Twenty gold coins, there are twenty gold coins in this wallet!" the officer in front of the bar shouted loudly to the entire dining car, his icy gaze swept over each pair, either dodging or prying eyes:

"Draco Wilts, red-haired, in a tattered light-colored overcoat—who can tell us where this man is, I swear in my king's name, this purse is his!"

In the blink of an eye, the atmosphere of the dining car changed slightly, but most people remained silent, pretending that they didn't hear any sound.

An Sen, who was sitting beside the officer, continued to play with the wine glass in his hand with a thoughtful expression.

The anxious officer waited in place for five minutes, looked at the waiter who was shivering and hid under the bar and the silent passengers in a carriage, snorted and grabbed his wallet, and hurriedly rushed out of the dining car with his two companions, facing down. A carriage goes.

No, not right.

The novelist left the box around 10:50, and it's 11:17; if he knew from the beginning that someone was arresting him, why did he go to his box to stay for so long... sips lightly After taking a sip of rum, Anson's expression was a little dazed.

At this moment, the waiter who was still shivering under the bar slowly got up and walked in with a small piece of cake in both hands:

"Sir, your cake is ready... By the way, what did you want to ask?"

"Uh... nothing, I just..."

An Sen, who raised his eyes subconsciously, stopped abruptly.

Holding the cake in both hands, Draco Wilts, dressed as a waiter, is smiling and looking at himself!