At dusk, the deducted moon coins were delivered to Chino on time, which also gave him a new understanding of Huck's private money.

Whether the number of monthly coins is accurate, Chino has calculated it using the weighing method, and there is basically no deviation, presumably Huck does not dare to play tricks.

The total weight of the mixed moon coins was more than 15 tons, and it contained dozens of huge sacks, which his own carriage could not fit at all.

Chino had no choice but to hire a caravan to transport heavy goods in Twilight, load the sacks into a wagon, mix them with the 1,800 silver moons he had brought, and instruct his retinue to guard them.

He then packed a small bag with 100 heavy silver moons, locked the carriages one by one, and walked to the slums.

Unlike the clean and tidy main town, the slum stands out as a filthy mess, with filthy mud and excrement from horse-drawn carts passing through livestock.

Flies are a regular visitor here, and the occasional obese rat can be seen running by the roadside, expertly caught by the ragged shopkeeper, thrown into a bamboo basket and sent to the kitchen to make pies, which are then sold as beef.

It was hell for the cleanliness fetish Chino, who avoided the filthy roads and took a long detour to find an underground tavern.

The so-called underground tavern is a tavern that does not have legal qualifications, but the operator is very strong in the background of the underground forces, and the officials also acquiesce to its existence.

Compared with regular taverns, the order of underground taverns is very chaotic, and there is a conventional rule: you can fight, and it doesn't matter if you kill people, but no matter what happens, you can only solve it privately, and you are not allowed to go out to complain to the security soldiers.

Therefore, ordinary civilians do not come to the underground tavern, and the guests here are either bloodthirsty gladiators who no one dares to mess with, or all kinds of contraband dealers, or criminals, killers, mercenaries, etc., who have murders on their backs and want to find a safe haven to rest.

The tavern at dusk is always so lively, full of rough roars, persuasions, and wine droplets splashing in the air after clinking glasses. Slave traders can also be seen selling newly captured strong men.

Despite the shackles and desolation of these slaves, there are many of them who are extremely talented warriors, and some may even be future arena champions.

In addition to wine and meat, of course, men and women are also not missing, and when you look around, you can always see men flirting with tavern maids.

Some people are fooled by rhetoric and take their wallets, and they get drunk with a glass of wine, but they only touch their small hands.

There are also veterans in the love scene, who go straight to the topic after the ambiguity, negotiate the price, and after negotiating, they go to the corner and start to stage a picture of hormones.

There is never a shortage of bloodshed in underground taverns, which may be caused by a fight over a woman, accidentally bumping into each other, or two people looking at each other, and one of them comes to say, "What are you looking at?" ”

Whatever the reason, right now, there are two drunk men fighting in the center of the tavern.

One of them was as majestic as an ox, covered in explosive muscles, and covered in countless battle scars.

The other was two heads shorter than him, lean, and his thighs were no thicker than his arms.

The former was undoubtedly a gladiator, and he bore not only battle scars, but also the iron brand of the local family—a mark that only regular gladiators who had passed the trials possessed, and a certificate of entry into the arena.

"Come on! Man, kill him if it's a man! Amid the commotion of the drinkers, the gladiator pounced on him, and with a ferocious blow came a fierce sweep of the hall, and the calloused foot scraped a dust mark on the floor, and in an instant broke the lean man's lower plate.

Before the lean man could get up, the gladiator used his absolute strength to knock him down and beat him severely.

"Puff puff puff! This kind of close-range beating is a real punch to the flesh, and he also has the ruthlessness unique to gladiators, specifically hitting the weaknesses of his facial features and soft underbelly.

Due to the great force, his fist also has a tearing nature, and a single punch can crack the skin and make the blood dripping.

It didn't take long for his fists to be stained with the blood and minced flesh of lean men.

The gladiator's fist rained down until the lean man was unconscious, and then he kicked him away and raised his arms to show off his muscles to the audience: "Roar! ”

The audience also raised their glasses and cheered.

As a reward for winning the battle, the gladiator also received a free wine from the tavernkeeper.

With a satisfied smile on his face, Chino looked in the direction of the brawl and snapped his fingers, "Hey, man, are you interested in helping me out?" ”

“he~tui！ Fuck your uncle! The gladiator looked down on a petite boy like Chino the most, and spat directly on the ground.

Chino shrugged his shoulders and said with a smile, "I'm sorry, I'm not talking to you." ”

As the words fell, the gladiator suddenly felt someone behind him, and he subconsciously glanced back and saw a blood-stained grin.

"Click-" With the sound of bones shattering and flesh tearing, the lean man took advantage of the gladiator's slack and roughly broke his neck, allowing him to see his back for the first time in his life.

The gladiator stiffened for a few seconds, collapsed to the ground, his face was bruised, his tongue was black, and the capillaries in his eyeballs burst completely under the pressure, and dense blood spots appeared, and the corpse trembled for a moment before it was silent.

After a brief silence, the commotion erupted again, and everyone pointed to the corpse on the ground and made fun of it.

"I'll give you a suggestion, next time you don't need to use so much force, it's enough to break the first atlas vertebrae, which is more labor-saving and efficient." Chino shook the money bag in his hand, smiled and asked, "So, are you interested in helping me with my work?" ”

The lean man wiped the blood from his face, walked up to Chino, and asked coldly, "What life?" ”

Chino took out 4 silver moons and placed them neatly on the table: "When my dog, tentatively for half a month, if I want to add time, I will continue." A total of 10 Silver Moons will be given to you, and these 4 are deposits. ”

The lean man glanced at the bulging money bag, and his eyes were full of greed that could not be hidden: "20." ”

Chino took out another silver moon and put it on the table, and said lightly: "11, bargain again, you and that gladiator will end up together." ”

The lean man subconsciously looked at Chino, he was a bloodthirsty mercenary, who had been doing dirty work since he could handle weapons, dealing with human life all day long, not only in his own danger, but also in his perception of danger than ordinary people.

The boy in front of him looked harmless to humans and animals, but when he looked at those amber eyes, he had an instinctive sense of crisis in his heart, and the anxious bioelectricity was running around the nerve endings, giving him goosebumps.

He didn't know the reason at first, but then he reacted - it was the person's smile.

It's a meaningless smile, it doesn't mean happiness, it doesn't represent any emotion, it's like a mask carved into the face, like the mask worn by the clown on a show, you have no idea what a dangerous face is behind the mask.

After weighing it for a moment, the lean man accepted the money and said in a deep voice, "Then 11." ”

Chino: "It's a pleasure to work with. ”

The lean man stretched out his hand, and Chino glanced at the blood stains on his hands, shook his head, and said, "There is no need to shake hands." My name is Chino Van Helsing, what's your name? ”

"Lugo, I haven't met my father, and I don't know my surname." Lugo looked Chino up and down and asked suspiciously, "Chino Van Helsing... Are you the civil magistrate of Shirin? ”

"Oh? Is my name so recognizable? ”

"Hehe, they all say that the civil affairs officer of Xilin Town is a little waste, who eats and waits for death every day, and has no ability. Now it seems to me that either those people have something wrong with their brains, or you are fake. ”

Chino's smile deepened: "Which one do you think?" ”

The sense of danger is back at us. Lugo rubbed his skin and turned his gaze to the side: "Dogs don't need to know so much. You feed me meat, I help you bite, it's as simple as that. ”

"Good dog." Chino bought him a pot of high-grade peach wine, and half a catty of high-quality beef.