Kingdom’s Bloodline

"They're all... from the fraternity?"

They turned a street corner, and Cohen looked suspiciously at both sides of the street:

"It's all over the street?"

Morris smiled and said nothing.

"of course not."

Thales quickened his pace, walked to them and said coldly:

"If it got to that point, the Brotherhood would have been wiped out long ago."

At that moment, the eyes of Thales and Morris met in the air. The former was cold, while the latter laughed, starting a game that only each other knew.

But Taylor's tone changed immediately:

"But there is no doubt that when we appear in these people's sights, we have been targeted by the Brotherhood."

Cohen frowned, and Glover subconsciously put his hand on his weapon, watching every passerby on the street vigilantly.

"Exactly," Morris laughed:

"From the first floor tile you set foot on in the upper and lower urban areas, the artisan shops, street vendors, beggars, merchants and passers-by along the way have already seen you clearly."

Cohen raised his head and poohed hard:

"Hey, who doesn't know, the shops on this street have to pay protection fees to the brotherhood, they are all under your threat..."

But this time it was Thales who interrupted him.

"But what he said is not wrong." The prince looked at a few day laborers outside a shop, sweating profusely, doing the hard work of unloading goods. "These people are indeed members of the fraternity."

Cohen was puzzled.

One moment it's not a fraternity, the next it's a fraternity...

Is it a fraternity?

Morris was thoughtful:

"Oh, Your Highness, you know?"

"I don't know," Thales' face remained unchanged:

"All I know is that you want to take this opportunity to flex your muscles and show me what a fraternity is."

Morris, who was told to break his mind, turned his head in embarrassment.

"Mr. Vigilante, and this one... you all come from extraordinary backgrounds, you must know and have seen the Blood Bottle Gang."

Morris adjusted his mood, chuckled, showing contempt and disdain:

"They have been around for hundreds of years. They are 'gangster nobles' with a long history and complex background. The chain of interests behind them is deep and solid. Most of their members are scumbags who walk in the gray area with black hands and white hands."

Glover's eyes fell on him.

"But..." Morris changed the subject and said meaningfully:

"Although it seems to you that they are doing the same 'business', as their sworn enemy—the Brotherhood is completely different."

At this moment, Thales saw a shop in front of him, couldn't help squinting his eyes, and slowed down his pace.

"Different?" Cohen shook his head disdainfully:

"You mean, although they are both scumbags, they are old scumbags and you are little scumbags?"

Leyock behind him let out a cold snort.

"Is this your bar?"

Everyone turned their heads in unison.

I saw Thales standing still, looking at a tavern across the street: in the deserted shop, a man with a fierce face was lying unhappily behind the bar, poking the counter with a knife once and for all.

Cohen and Glover raised their heads and looked at the rusty old iron signboard on the top of the tavern:

[The setting sun blesses you. 】

It looked like it had been dismantled from some country church in the Temple of the Sunset.

Thales looked quietly at the familiar tables and chairs store in front of him, recalling the years when he walked through it countless times:

"That bartender, he looks fierce."

Morris whistled from a distance, and the bartender with a fierce face saw them, and immediately pulled out his knife in surprise, looking like "do you want to fight?", but Morris immediately made a gesture of pressing down.

Leyock walked into the bar, patted the ferocious bartender on the shoulder, talked with him, and finally comforted him back with the other party's disappointed expression.

"That's the Sunset Bar."

"Kerensky hadn't taken over for a few months - his predecessor was brainwashed, in a bar fight."

Morris looked at Kerensky's unfriendly face, looked at the deserted scene of the Sunset Bar again, and sighed:

"You can probably tell: he's not good at the job."

Thales nodded slightly, with a melancholy in his words that only he could understand:

"It's probably not easy being a bartender here."

Things are different.

The old guy behind the bar is gone.

Thales shook his head, turned and left.

"This bar, it was opened by an old friend before," Morris followed the prince's pace, and said helplessly:

"I have to say that after they moved out, there were not many people in the fraternity who knew how to run a bar and could hold down the bar."

"Your old friend must be very powerful." Thales said sincerely.

Hearing this, Morris hummed in a complicated mood:

"At least, when they were still there, no one dared to fight here."

"Yeah, who doesn't know, this is the Brotherhood's own 'Green Zone'," Cohen snorted angrily with lingering anger:

"Who else dares to fight here?"

Morris glanced at him.

"Mr. Police Officer, since you said this is your jurisdiction, do you really understand this place?"

Cohn was about to speak, but Morris interrupted him with a finger:

"Or, you only catch thieves and punish peddlers, and focus on crimes, but you never go deep into their communities, their families, their trivial daily life, and see what they are like when they are not on the street to beg for life. day?"

Cohen paused.

But he quickly responded unconvinced:

"I know that downtown is a gathering place for immigrants and poor people. It's very poor here..."

"poor?"

Morris suddenly raised his voice, looking amused: "Poverty!"

Fatty's eyes suddenly changed:

"But what is poverty in your eyes, Mr. Sheriff?"

"Is it the imagination of the aristocrats who can't eat meat for a meal and don't have new clothes during the New Year? Or is it the kind of thing described in the storybook, the kind of 'I will starve to death tomorrow', so the dignitaries like to ask them to do it. The seemingly miserable but unrealistic 'poverty' of charitable donations?"

Cohen frowned, thinking about what the fraternity boss had said.

"No, Qingpi," Morris said unceremoniously, even forgetting to use less street slang in front of the prince:

"The real poverty is somewhere in between, it's not so stereotyped, and it's not so tragic."

Thales thought for a moment.

"In fact, real poverty is numbness, patience, muddling along, having no future, being too poor to die but living a difficult life, and living a miserable life without the need to commit suicide."

Morris spoke with emotion:

"This kind of poverty is the plague that can really drive people crazy. It is highly poisonous, contagious, and will continue. But the poison is not fatal, and it seems mild."

Cohen thought hard, but to no avail:

"I do not understand."

Morris sneered.

"Well, you have a noble background and you are a police officer. It may be hard to imagine that you are well-clothed and well-fed to handle affairs conveniently..."

"But there are some poor people who go to work for a day, spend all they have, and get what they work for, and get twenty coppers."

His tone changed:

"However, in the half day after work, in order to satisfy his hunger and support his family, he had to use up all of them, leaving none or one or two..."

"So the next day, he can only go to exhaustion again, just for another twenty coppers, which are destined to be spent again."

Glover and Cohen frowned at the same time.

"Yeah, he won't starve to death," Morris said sullenly, and walked down a shabby low step:

"Repeated forever to keep 'not starving.'"

"For example, the poor coachman who lost money in a bet just now."

"Why do you think he wants to borrow money to gamble? Do you think that if you let him avoid the scam of borrowing money, he will be fine?"

Cohen's eyes changed, and he looked up suddenly.

"Poverty is no sharp blade, Sergeant."

"Instead, it is a slowly tightening noose, a patiently rolling millstone."

Thales sighed silently when he heard this.

At this time, Morris took his time, like a teacher telling philosophical stories:

"It gives you a little hope of living, but it doesn't let you enjoy the joy of living, so that you can continue to exploit your life."

"It pushes you to the brink of death, but stays alive just enough to squeeze everything out of your day-to-day numbness."

Morris took a deep breath, as if to feel the sweetness of this breath of air:

"It's called living—a long death."

With his hands behind his back, Morris unknowingly walked to the front of the crowd, looking at the stinky leather workshop and the busy workers inside.

"In towns and in the countryside, there are always the darkest and lowest-class people who are struggling on the line of food and clothing, but are often ignored by the kingdom: foreigners who come to the city to beg for work, farmers who have lost their land, merchants who are bankrupt and in debt, The handicapped who have lost their labor, the artisans eliminated by the market, the poor without a home, the beggars without dignity, the old people without offspring, the widows who have lost their pillars, the bad guys who only know how to shake their fists after retiring from the army, they have to sacrifice the bottom line, sell their dignity but return A lowly worker suffering from discrimination and bullying..."

"They are all poor hosts, and they are everywhere in the country. There are far more of them than you can imagine-the lower city is just the tip of the iceberg, and it is still a better one."

Cohen tried to loosen his clenched fist a little bit:

"I know, but this can't be..."

But Morris ignored him:

"They are often unable to speak out, or when they speak out, no one pays attention to them, or they are not even seen—even for a conscientious and kind-hearted police officer like you."

"In the prosperous and prosperous official reports, in the passionate and magnificent historical narratives, in the eyes of most happy people who are well-fed and well-fed, they don't even exist—or the meaning of their existence , is to prove the sympathy and moral sense of others, and bring correct, hypocritical and cheap self-satisfaction to the latter."

As soon as Morris's tone was closed, he sounded extremely cold:

"They are excluded from the discourse, and it is difficult for them to understand and have no energy to feel what pursuit and desire, ideal and ambition, dignity and responsibility-these things can only be seen in bards and stage plays..."

His expression suddenly became ferocious:

"In this case, if the pursuit does not change, people will slowly degenerate, turning into utensils, or animals."

"Facing a difficult life, harsh environment, hopeless future, unfair reality, overbearing public power, and the most urgent need for survival, they must find a way, must have sustenance, must grasp the last straw..."

Morris' eyes drifted to the sky, passed through the thick clouds, and then fell back to the ground again, falling to the chaotic underground street:

"So on a certain day, at a certain opportunity, at a certain moment, at a certain accident, they were forced to come together, watch and help each other, overcome difficulties together, and seek recognition and value."

"Maybe it's just neighbors on the street looking out for each other, maybe it's the poor folks in the same industry having dinner together, maybe it's the hard-boiled gangsters huddling together for courage - even though sometimes, these behaviors are not so legal."

Thales silently watched a dozen gangsters who were fighting on a street corner.

But this time, Cohen just looked at them blankly, no longer intending to step forward to intervene.

"And the original purpose of their huddling together to keep warm was just to live a less painful life."

"The crime you detest—or, rather, the violation of prevailing law—is an inevitable but minor by-product of it."

Morris also watched the brawl on the street corner, and shook his head to Leyok who asked him with his eyes:

"So here we are - the Black Street Brotherhood, as part of what used to be, a myriad of low-level gangs."

At that moment, his eyes were misty and deep:

"I don't know when or how. The moment we appeared, we were deeply rooted in the community of the bottom people, born of chaos, and relying on chaos."

At this moment, a stone flew up suddenly and hit a gangster's forehead hard, making him limp with blood profusely.

The gangsters who were fighting were taken aback and subconsciously stopped.

Everyone turned their heads: Thales stood up and patted his dusty hands.

"You were indeed born in chaos," Thales said coldly:

"But it also feeds back chaos."

The gangsters reacted and rushed over clamoring.

Morris sighed and waved his hand, and Leyok stepped forward sullenly.

"In fact, Your Highness, in the Black Street, the Underground Street, and the three districts of the lower city, most of the poor may not directly participate in our 'gray' activities." Morris shrugged.

Thales smiled:

"You mean crime."

Morris nodded:

"However, they have never been stingy with giving convenience and tacit understanding to the brotherhood, for example, in addition to their main business, they inform the news, stand guard, occasionally run errands, provide logistics, and even rely on the economy brought about by our 'big business' Prosperity, to supplement the household."

"Their lives are linked to our activities."

On the other side, after laying down the third person, Leyock was finally recognized by the gangsters, who scattered in panic without daring to turn their heads.

Cohen stood there silently, watching these people disappear into the street.

"Over time, habit became natural, repetition became the rule, and the Black Street Brotherhood was no longer just a mutual aid organization, and it was no longer just a violent gang."

Morris clicked his tongue and spread his arms, as if to embrace the dilapidated neighborhood in front of him:

"It has become the backbone deeply rooted in these communities, the symbiotic backbone of the lower-level people, and an important driving force for operating the lower-level communities to maintain the ecological operation."

He glanced at Cohen intentionally or unintentionally:

"It's better than the security department that doesn't see you once in ten days and a half a month, compared to the patrol team that's going to knock your bones when it comes, compared to the low-efficiency and lazy low-level officials, and compared to the 'relevant departments' that only appear during city inspections and dealing with political achievements." ’, than the king’s warrant that always exists only on the bulletin board and is treated the same as the small advertisement for syphilis treatment, than the charitable citizens who are full of blood and morality but have never set foot here in person, and are full of sympathy but far away in the sky and only know how to move themselves. Effective and much more practical."

"They evolved their own rules, the underlying ecology."

"'Copper coins are louder than kings, wine glasses are heavier than officials'," Morris looked at Thales and sighed:

"No offense, but that's an old saying that the scumbags at Camp Blade used to say."

Thales didn't answer.

But Cohen raised his head slowly, his eyes confused.

Glover had to give him a hand, lest the police officer lose his mind and step on the air.

"I went to the Western Wilderness to fight the war," the zombie looked at Cohen's dazed look, and snorted:

"Never heard such a bullshit 'old saying'."

Morris didn't care, waved his hands and chuckled.

"Then you're either still young..."

"Or there is too much earwax..."

He laughed, and there was a chill in his eyes:

"Clog your ears."

Glover was at a loss for words.

"So, yes, most of the people here may be poor, they may be treacherous, they may be obnoxious, but most of them don't actually collect debts, pass goods, steal, and fight with black street fraternities. Got into fights, killed people, committed crimes."

"But they have also more or less provided convenience to the Brotherhood, and more or less benefited from the existence of the Brotherhood-even though these 'benefits' make you hate it."

Morris sneered:

"These 'frat people' may not be directly employed by our core Big Six, they may not be the purest and most formal members of the gang, and they may not even have done any marginal 'business', but many times, regardless of They are still outsiders, there is no need to distinguish them.”

"Because we are them, and they are born close to us."

"We can be them at any time, and they can be us at any time."

At that second, Morris gritted his teeth fiercely, stood on the street that belonged to him, and lightly clenched his fist:

"They're not a fraternity, but they're better than a fraternity."

"Mr. Police Officer, tell me, how are we going to 'die'?"

"Are you going to send everyone in this block, from the young and hardworking to the old, weak, sick, and disabled, to be treated as accomplices of the fraternity and sent to prison?"

Cohen was shocked, as if he had been hit hard.

Morris turned his eyes and looked at Thales, who was deep in thought, smiling.

"This is the root, soil, and essence of the Black Street Brotherhood, Your Highness."

"Black silk," Morris's eyes flashed brightly:

"We are all brothers."

Leyok smiled, folded his arms intentionally or unintentionally, letting the black silk ribbon on his left arm flutter in the wind.

The black silk family is all brothers.

This is not the first time Thales has heard this fraternity saying, but his brows are getting tighter and tighter.

"Hmph," Glover retorted disdainfully:

"You are nothing but a mob, worthless."

"Even the most sloppy lord's conscripts can beat you to the ground."

Morris looked at the tall and straight figure, and at a glance, he was Glover, who was born in the military.

"Yes, many people may think that the Brotherhood, a rabble of good and bad people, is just weak compared to the army and violence of the kingdom. It is not an opponent at all, and it will be wiped out at any time because of a word from a nobleman."

Morris' eyes changed, and he looked at the scene of the underground street with a ruthless expression:

"But don't forget..."

"Different from large-scale bureaucrats and armies, we—including these inseparable lower-level people, we are timid and weak, full of street smarts and bottom-level cunning, inconspicuous and slippery , will avoid the sharp edge in direct confrontation at any time, and break it into pieces."

"Even the police and patrol teams who are familiar with the local area often feel stretched and powerless when facing us, not to mention the army prepared for a huge battlefield, like a wide and thick broom, there are always corners that cannot be swept. "

"This is the true confidence of the Brotherhood."

"This is also the reason why we were born in the void, weak, isolated, and disorganized, but when faced with behemoths like the Blood Bottle Gang and even the Kingdom Official, we were often powerless to resist and suffered disasters, but we were always able to revive and make a comeback."

"Mr. Police Officer, and this... big brother who has fought in the war, do you understand?"

At that moment, Cohen looked hesitant, but Glover was still dissatisfied.

But none of them could speak.

As for Thales, he just walked quietly and calmly on the street step by step.

"Speaking of which," the boy sighed, and suddenly said:

"Do you know Araka Mu?"

Morris frowned.

"The Wrath of the Kingdom is famous far and wide, Your Highness," the fat man shook his head:

"But even if you are as strong as him, you can't do what we can do for you."

This sounds familiar...

Thales smiled.

correct.

The son of the Shadow Shield, he seems to have said something similar?

"I remember," said Glover, who answered with a look of admiration:

"In the Battle of the Altar, Baron Mu was in the vanguard. His fury guards collided directly with the blocking formation formed by the three major orc elites. He was brave and fearless, but he managed to break through the formation despite the casualties. The main force, open the opening for the decisive blow."

"It shocked all the friendly troops present-whether mercenaries, levies or royal standing troops."

"It also established the final victory of the desert war."

Morris and Leyok both tensed up.

Thales' thoughts drifted away, returning to the Broken Dragon Fortress six years ago, and couldn't help but sigh.

"Alaka Mu, that's not human," Cohen said quietly:

"It's a broken soul that's missing a corner and is no longer complete."

Seeing that everyone else was looking at him, Cohen came back to his senses, shook his head and said:

"It's not me, it's my old man who said it."

Thales nodded, remembering the indomitable impact of the Kingdom's Wrath carrying himself in the Black Sand Army formation six years ago.

But what he wanted to talk about was not the bravery of the opponent.

"Mu told me that he is not the Kingdom of Wrath," Thales said with emotion:

"The guards beside him are."

"All of them."

The others were taken aback for a moment.

"Similarly," Thales turned his head, "I can't kill you, the mysterious black sword, he may be the leader and spiritual symbol of the Brotherhood."

Morris' complexion changed.

"But he's not the fraternity itself."

Thales pouted at the street scene in the underground mall, and said with certainty:

"These people, and the lives and backgrounds and experiences they represent, all added up to it, is the real Black Street fraternity."

"And the fraternity is a symbol of their defiance in their numbness and poverty."

Thales nodded and said with emotion:

"It is a weapon of the weak."

Morris was a little surprised, but he quickly adjusted and smiled.

"Your Highness, you are a sensible person!"

"So, Mr. Police Officer, in this city, you and the Police Department you represent and even the Kingdom itself..."

Maurice spoke to Cohen, but watched the Prince, as if waiting for his response.

"You are not fighting gangsters, crime, or even evil," the fat man sneered:

"It's poverty, it's injustice, it's indifference, it's despair, it's the self-sufficiency and complacency of one group that causes the insufficiency and dissatisfaction of another group of people, it's the shadows brought about by too much light."

"You represent the power of this country, stand in the position of the strong, and face the resistance of the weak."

Cohen raised his head and stared at him blankly:

"You mean, I'm law enforcement in the lower city, against... the weak?"

"Don't be fooled by him." The boy's words sounded, pulling Cohen back from his sinking.

Thales' words are calm and powerful:

"That's right, the Black Street Brotherhood, maybe the weak at the bottom, took up weapons inadvertently."

"But on the contrary, Cohen, you're not playing against the weak."

Out of his trust in the prince in the past, Cohen seemed to catch the straw when he was drowning. His eyes lit up and he looked at Thales expectantly.

But Thales' words were heavier than Morris's:

"It's something deeper, deeper, more terrifying."

As soon as the words came out, even Morris frowned.

Thales took a deep breath:

"What you have to fight against is the side you came from, the strong, and their long-standing unfair oppression of the weak."

Cohen froze.

Even Glover began to think deeply.

"The low-level crime you punish on the streets every day, the chaos you feel, the darkness and pain you witness are just one of the consequences of oppression and injustice—whether we want it or not."

"You drew your sword," Thales said softly:

"Fight against the wound it makes."

"In this world, there is no confrontation that is more painful, but also more precious."

Cohen stared blankly at Thales, his thoughts confused.

"Well," Morris rolled his eyes:

"Your Highness can speak better than me."

"But, to borrow a phrase that ends the Tower."

Morris showed a sly look:

"How do you use strength to fight against strength?"

"You can only embrace power."

Everyone was silent for a while, even Thales frowned and remained silent.

"I do not understand."

After painful thinking, Cohen gritted his teeth and shook his head:

"There is no such word in the Tower of the End."

Morris snorted slightly.

"Yes," the fat man said in a long voice, with deep meaning:

"There is nothing in the tower."

At this moment, Thales suddenly asked:

"Who are you, Maurice?"

The fat boss of the fraternity gave a big meal, smiling broadly:

"You are so forgetful, Your Highness, my Maurice, a little gangster in the fraternity."

Thales snorted coldly.

"No, I'm asking," the prince stared at Morris coldly with lightning-like eyes:

"who are you."

Morris's smile froze for a moment.

"A punk would never say such a thing."

"You've already shown off your muscles," Thales said in a deep voice:

"Why not reveal your true body?"

At this moment, Morris's smile completely disappeared.

Thales' expression remained unchanged, but he just looked at him deeply.

Feeling that the atmosphere was not right, Glover and Leyock subconsciously put their hands on their weapons, and exchanged a hostile look with each other.

But Morris just laughed softly after a pause.

He sighed and looked up to the sky.

"Maurice Ishka."

Fatty's tone was full of sarcasm and hatred.

Ishka?

Thales frowned: He had never heard of this surname in the prince's class.

"I remember you said that you don't have a last name."

Morris looked down, nodded, and shook his head mockingly.

"It's gone now."

"I'm from Dragon's Kiss, born in Changyin City," Morris said with a blank look.

"Since great-grandfather, the family has been the private financial officer of the Grand Duke of Changyin City for generations."

From Dragon Kiss Land, born in Changyin City.

Thales' expression changed.

"I see."

"You are from the Principality of Anrenzo, and your background is not low."

and……

It is indeed accountable.

But Thales immediately asked:

"Then how did you get reduced to..."

Before he could finish asking, Morris interrupted him, and answered very simply:

"Decades ago, the Principality of Anrenzuo broke out the 'Consolidation Rebellion'."

Morris smiled:

"It's a political game of the upper class, and in short, a mess."

"In the end, the incompetent Grand Duke Cid pushed our family out as a scapegoat to appease the anger of his princes."

Thales felt Morris' emotions and did not continue speaking.

Glover and Cohen looked at each other, and even Leyok seemed a little surprised.

Morris sighed:

"You know, I was a kid when the noose was around my neck."

He touched his fat neck, which could barely see the shape:

"At that time, my mother was hanging on my left side. I still remember that her rope was shaking for a long time..."

Thales frowned.

"Besides the gallows, the prison officer's face is expressionless, like a stone sculpture, and the observers are extremely fanatical, like an endless tide."

"I was not very sensible at the time. When I was hanged, I was just thinking," Morris looked at the street in a daze:

"It's so hard."

"Bless the setting sun and Haoyue, if only I could take a breath of air."

He said quietly:

"One sip, just one sip, makes me less painful, less wanting to die..."

The atmosphere was dull, and everyone remained silent.

Only Morris' voice sounded, telling the past:

"For that breath of air, I would give anything."

Morris' eyes were blank:

"Anything."

The silence lasted for a while, until Morris woke up from the memory.

"So, when I woke up in the hill-like pile of corpses, I understood one thing."

The leader of the fraternity took a deep breath, feeling the freedom to breathe extremely dearly:

"This world is not fair, Your Highness."

Morris's hand left his neck, and he showed the unique ruthlessness of a boss:

"Even the air to breathe."

"I have to fight with my life."

"From the mouths of those... who can breathe freely."

Thales didn't speak.

"I have other matters, Your Highness." Morris' mood changed obviously, and he turned his head. "Forgive me for not being with you——Leyock will entertain you for the rest of your sightseeing itinerary."

As soon as the words came out, while everyone was still surprised, the fat man turned into another street corner without looking back, and disappeared before his eyes.

Thales and the others were left behind, silently stopping in place.

"So, that's my boss."

Leyock came back to his senses from Morris' life experience just now, and recovered his gloomy expression that was not easy to mess with:

"Next, where are you going?"

Glover and Cohen looked at each other.

"In fact," Thales looked at the place where Morris's back disappeared, and snorted coldly:

"I was almost robbed of my wallet by a little begging girl just now, and I was almost blackmailed...I'm very upset now."

Leyock was taken aback.

Glover and Cohen were equally stunned.

Thales turned his head and said seriously:

"So, in the lower city, where do these beggars stay most often?"

the other side of the street.

Maurice, looking sullen, hurried around a corner to meet another man in a cloak.

If Thales was here, he might have recognized that it was the fraternity subordinate who whispered in Morris's ear when he met Morris.

"Lancer," Morris said without interest, and called the other party's name directly:

"How about it?"

The man in the cloak—the intelligence leader of the Brotherhood, "Sleepless Eye" Lancer Corbion put down his hood, his face was full of tiredness and haggardness.

"Prince Thales was assassinated at the banquet last night," Lanser said lightly:

"There are many rumors in the market, but because the assassin is from the Western Wilderness, the rumors all point to the princes of the Western Wilderness, saying that they have evil intentions."

Morris frowned:

"real?"

Lancer snorted coldly: "Anyway, that's how the secret science is taught."

"anything else?"

"Mindis Hall, which is the prince's mansion, has just been seized by the royal guards and the city hall, saying that they will strictly demand the assassin's clues."

"So, he isn't with your boss?"

"It's the former boss! I'm not sure. But I know that an old friend has returned to the secret department. He used to be the person in charge of the West Wilderness branch—something might really happen to West Wilderness."

Morris didn't speak, just lost in thought.

Finally Lancer broke the silence.

"Compared to the previous one, how is this Canxing?"

"I don't know," Morris shook his head, with imperceptible confusion on his face:

"It's a bit similar, but it's different—let's look at Hei Jian's attitude."

Lancer was not very satisfied:

"You talked with him for a long time, is that the conclusion?"

"Hey, why don't you go talk to him yourself?"

Morris retorted dissatisfiedly:

"Do you know that kid is very slippery, wicked like a ghost, every word is hidden, and his intentions are sinister?"

"That's why I want you to go," Lancer said without guilt.

"You are this kind of person yourself, and you are most familiar with it."

Morris was furious for a moment.

But his complexion changed slightly soon.

"I remember, a few years ago, you asked me for someone, didn't you?"

Lancer narrowed his eyes: "Who?"

"Six years ago," Morris scratched his chin earnestly, "the day of the One Night War."

Lancer rolled his eyes, and immediately found the corresponding memory:

"Yes, a little accountant. He used to be the person who managed the abandoned house. He was talented and ambitious. For this reason, he killed his boss, that trash Quaid..."

"But I sent him out of the capital, you know, Luo Da definitely doesn't want the person who killed his son to dangle in front of him all day long..."

Morris interrupted him:

"Write him a letter and find a list of beggars from the past."

Lancer frowned:

"What's wrong?"

Morris exhaled and kicked the broken wall at the entrance of the alley, knocking down a burst of stones.

"Remember, Lancer, when we first came to the lower city, we suffered a lot in this maze of bad streets-Anton would go astray as long as he walked fifty meters, and he would not find the way back to the black street. road."

Lancer didn't speak.

He knew that Morris had more to say.

Morris narrowed his eyes:

"Do you still remember, in order to get the lower city as quickly as possible, who did we first look for as a guide?"

"Beggar."

Lancer replied without hesitation: "We bought the beggars."

"They are the most inconspicuous, and they have walked the streets and alleys since they were young, so they are the most familiar with the road here."

Morris' eyes were fixed on the base of the wall.

"Yes," the fat man repeated the other party's words, thinking carefully:

"They are both inconspicuous and walk around the streets since childhood."

"I am most familiar with this place."

Lancer figured out something, and couldn't help but widen his eyes.

"So I have a little guess."

Morris raised his head and looked at the extremely complicated streets in the lower city, with a deep expression:

"Want to verify."

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