I will be crowned king

Outer City, Ximen Street, Crown Tavern.

Four thirty in the morning.

Sitting in front of the greasy bar, Anson enjoyed a breakfast of garlic sausage, dry bread, instant coffee and half a fried chicken, just like every worker on the morning shift in the pub.

Compared with the exquisite and high-end coffee shops in the inner city, the biggest advantage of pubs in the outer city in Anson's eyes is that they can operate almost 24 hours a day.

Three-quarters of the most important factories in Clovis are built in the outer city areas with the most convenient transportation, and these pubs and cafes are often built in nearby streets to provide workers with three meals a day and leisure entertainment.

Most factories start work at 5:30, which means that workers have to go out at 4:30. After the one-hour meal period at noon, they often cannot get off work until 12:00 or 1:00 in the morning; customer demand is indirectly generated. These pubs are open around the clock and serve hot food and drinks.

Anson devoured the grilled sausages and fried chicken on the plate. To be honest, the taste was better than Lisa's cooking skills, but the portion was generous and the taste was very strong. After one bite, he often had to drink coffee and eat a piece of bread before he could finish it. pharynx.

After eating a third of the meal, Anson felt like he had been cheated and was forced to order another glass of dark beer. He slowly picked up the fried chicken and tore it into pieces.

From dusk to dawn, Anson, who had been staring at the tavern door from the corner of his eye, finally waited for his target.

Karin Jacques, who was wearing a black priest's robe, pushed open the door and entered as usual. His eyes swept into the tavern and naturally fell on the rather conspicuous figure in front of the bar.

He was stunned for a moment, then turned pale with fright. With his face changing like a palette, he rushed to the bar and sat down next to Anson.

"You...why are you here?!"

Suppressing the panic in his heart, Karin Jacques, who was shivering all over, almost didn't dare to raise his head, as if there was a gun aimed at his head in the tavern.

"There are some things I need to consult with you."

Anson swallowed the chicken in his mouth and casually touched the grease and meat residue at the corner of his mouth with his thumb: "Don't worry, I'm not here to catch you, and no one is aiming a gun at your head."

Karin Jacques immediately breathed a sigh of relief, and his loose priest robe immediately deflated like a deflated balloon:

"What do you want from me - tell me first, I really don't know where Draco is right now, otherwise I will definitely tell you as soon as possible!"

"I know, so that's not what I'm here for today."

Anson put down the cup as he spoke. The coffee in this tavern tastes as bad as the army’s coffee powder:

"I remember you said last time that you have dealings with many Old God Sect organizations in the outer city?"

"Yes, but it's basically business dealings. I don't dare to attend their gatherings - these old god sect organizations are better than gangsters, and some are even more extreme; they are good at robbery, arson and extortion. But basically they are not very good at doing business, and they spend money lavishly, so..."

Karin Jacques was suddenly startled when he was mid-sentence, and raised his head alertly:

"Why do you ask?"

Anson smiled and wiped his hands with a napkin: "I'm a little curious and want to see what a real gathering of the Old Gods is like."

"What?"

The black-robed priest was stunned.

This is the real purpose of Anson's special visit to this Priest of the Circle of Order and the Second Way Dealer of the Old God Sect.

Luther Franz gave him all the information, and Anson could definitely find those workers who had been fired by the Railway Commission, follow them all the way and finally find these Old God organizations, and infiltrate the enemy on behalf of a "new person from the Old Gods" …

But he doesn't plan to do this for two reasons:

First of all, this is too inefficient; secondly, it is not in line with his character as a "pure, passionate, chuunibyou, eager to save the world" on the Black Mage side.

Now he is a little unsure about what Mace Honard wants to do...kill the elf ambassador and trigger a war between Clovis and the Yser elves; while suppressing the Guards, he secretly assists the Guards in seeking their own death.

If his real purpose is the "Great Magic Book" in Clovis Cathedral, then what is his purpose in doing this now?

The "big plan" of the Old Gods?

It is possible. It can be seen from many places that Mace Honard is actually very serious about this matter - solving the security problem in the royal capital is to ensure that the war can continue, and killing the elf ambassador is to cause more trouble. Big mess.

He told Bloen the information about the elf ambassador at the banquet. An hour later, Maurice Perigord died in public as a member of the Old Gods... The level of decisiveness was simply terrifying.

I don’t understand, and Anson doesn’t intend to understand for the time being. Sometimes the more you know, the easier it is for your character to collapse and others to mistake you for being a traitor.

In order not to cause misunderstanding, Anson decided to find the old god organization directly through Karin Jacques; this way, the black mage would know what he was going to do, and there would be room for explanation when something went wrong.

"If you're really just 'curious,' there's a semi-public party tonight."

Karin Jacques lowered his voice and looked at Anson with some fear: "There will be some identity check measures, but they are not very strict. As long as you don't bring weapons, no one will care."

"Then who organized this party?"

"An Old God sect gang called the 'Hydra' controls almost two streets and more than a thousand households. It's not very large."

"Not big?"

Anson was stunned for a moment: "Do you know how many people there are in Clovis City?"

"Then do you know how many people there are in Clovis City?" the black-robed priest asked:

"Eight hundred thousand? This is a statistic from the 90th year of the Saint's Calendar, and the Privy Council clerks only count people who have formal jobs and are registered to pay taxes. Anyone who has lived in the outer city knows that it is definitely more than this number!"

"Almost in the last ten years, more and more factories have opened in Clovis City. Small workshops nearby have gone bankrupt one after another; estates have been expropriated, and landless farmers are pouring in in hundreds and thousands almost every day."

"I have never been to too remote slums. Those places are all the territory of gangsters... But as a rough estimate, the entire city of Clovis must have about two million people."

Two million? !

To put it this way, the population of the outer city alone is more than five times that of the inner city? !

Noticing the surprise in Anson's eyes, Karin Jacques shrank his neck and chuckled:

"Don't be too surprised. After all, I haven't done any census, and there may not really be two million people in the outer city - of course, there are definitely more than one million people, that's for sure."

"These people are either working illegally or joining gangs, or they are working illegally and joining gangs, or they are working in factories controlled by gangs... Anyway, no one is in charge of the outer city."

"Hasn't anyone checked you out?"

"Check? Gangster factories that were not very profitable or too profitable were bombed by their opponents within two days. Those who survived were all those who found connections with the nobles in the inner city and worked for regular factories to evade taxes."

"...You seem to know these very well?"

"As long as you stay in a tavern for four or five days, these will be no secrets to you." Karin Jacques grinned:

"Or in the church, where the grumbling workers don't care whether the person sitting in the confessional is a serious priest."

So you are indeed an unorthodox priest... Anson silently took a sip of dark beer:

"Can you help me find a way to sneak into this party?"

"No problem - although they don't know me, I know where they usually gather; you just need to dress up as an ordinary worker, don't bring any weapons, and spend some money to bribe the guard at the door. It's not difficult to get in."

Karin Jacques nodded and showed a nervous and flattering smile: "Just in case I ask more, you are really just out of curiosity, so you want to come and feel the atmosphere and so on...right?" "

Anson, who was drinking dark beer and looking at the black-robed priest who kept rubbing his hands, said nothing.

The two looked at each other without blinking for half a minute. The smile on Karin Jacques's lips became stiffer and stiffer, and finally his throat twitched slightly:

"...I'm sorry, I was too talkative."

After taking a sip of beer, Anson slammed the glass on the table.

………………

"boom!"

A two-meter-tall bald man with tattoos weighed the three silver coins in his palm with satisfaction, pulled up the iron ring on the back wooden door, and smashed it with a sound comparable to a one-pound cannon.

After a while, the wooden door was opened, and the bald man with his arms crossed stepped aside. The strong smell of alcohol and fried food, restless cheers and lazy moans poured out from behind the door.

Is this a gathering of the Old Gods or a dark nightclub?

Anson stood there stunned for a second, and then walked into the door with the envious eyes of the people queuing behind him.

The noisy hall is no different from the Crown Tavern on Ximen Street, with noisy sounds and the smell of alcohol and tobacco mixed with the smell of sweat; people crowded in the center of the hall surround a fence of almost ten square meters, and two bald men are cheering and cheering. They grappled amid insults.

Anson was walking among these people. He had changed into a coarse cloth coat and a linen scarf and looked no different from the ordinary guests. The weapons on his body were all hidden in the Crown Tavern, and he only carried a barbecue knife hidden in his boot. Blue dagger.

According to Karin Jacques, this Old God gangster named "Hydra" is also engaged in private liquor and gambling businesses; he also likes to use alcohol, carnival and gambling to heat up the atmosphere and attract outsiders to join.

..."The real party will not officially begin until the gambling is over." Karin Jacques explained:

"Usually they use huge amounts of money to lure everyone present to gamble - dice, roulette, sausage-eating contests, death fighting... They rely on extremely exaggerated comparisons to heat up the atmosphere. Of course, most of them Everyone will lose their money.”

"When the gambling is over and the party officially begins; if you win several rounds in the gambling game, someone will invite you to a certain table to 'have a few drinks.' Those people are the leaders of this Old God gang."

"They will give you a few 'small tasks', and if you complete them they will give you a 'reward' - usually a batch of moonshine and women - and then give you a few new tasks, and repeat this for one or two Month, you can join them."

"This Old God Sect organization...why does it sound like it has nothing to do with the Old God Sect?" Anson couldn't help but ask.

"Most of the Old God Sect organizations have nothing to do with the Old God Sect." Karin Jacques shook his head:

"They are a gang of spell casters, smugglers or thieves - an Old God organization that is truly involved in the 'grand plan' level. There are probably only black mages in Clovis City."

"Do you still know about the 'big plan'?"

"I am a devout believer in the Circle of Order, of course I know."

...Tightening the scarf around his neck, Anson squeezed through the crowd and walked to the corner of the hall that resembled a bar counter:

"I want to place a bet."

"Five copper coins per bet, no limit."

The man dressed like a bartender quickly counted the coins on the table, holding a cigarette in his mouth without raising his head.

Anson took out a silver coin from his pocket and threw it directly into his arms: "Can I press anything?"

"certainly!"

The bartender, whose eyes lit up, caught the silver coin in mid-air and looked up at the thin Anson: "What do you like to bet on, dice or roulette?"

Ten minutes later, Anson, who had taken off his scarf and coat, walked into the fence and smiled at the surprised bald man standing opposite him.

"Gentlemen, we have an extra game!"

A man wearing red clothes on his upper body but only shorts and a clown hat jumped onto the high platform. He shouted and gestured at the sweaty crowd with a distorted smile:

"Anson Bach, the newcomer to the party for the first time, challenges our old friend Bald Bob!"

"The rules of the competition are limited to five minutes. As long as the new face can still stand up after five minutes, everyone who bets on him will win five times the bet!"

"And if he wins...if he wins...it's ten times that~~~~!"

The clown with a long tail tone raised his hands above his head, and the crowd gathered around the fence cheered and became excited with his gestures, holding up mugs filled with inferior drinks and shouting loudly:

"Kill him! Beat him to death!"

"Bob! Bob! Bob!"

The entire hall fell into a crazy carnival, and the restless atmosphere continued to spread in the air. The figures with bloodshot eyes were beating or waving things in their hands, and the random shouts turned into spittle. Shout.

Standing in the center of the carnival, Bob looked at Anson, who stretched out his hand to greet him across from him. Just as he looked shocked, a certain figure poked out from the crowd and whispered something in his ear.

The next second, the surprised expression of the bald man turned ferocious.

"Now...the duel begins!"

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, the bald man suddenly bent his knees and bowed his waist. His thick arms spread out from side to side like iron pincers, and Anson stood still and greeted him like a cannonball.

"Boom!"

The sound of flesh colliding with flesh was drowned in the carnival. Bob's arms had locked Anson's body. Everyone was waiting for the next scene...

"Plop!"

Under the gaze of everyone, "bald" Bob knelt on his knees, his thick body trembling to his side, and his two big hands helplessly pressed on his lower abdomen.

The smiling Anson still stood where he was, with his right hand hidden at his waist still clenched into a fist.

Looking at the strong man curled up like a shrimp on the ground, the carnival hall fell into a dead silence.