[Notre Dame de Paris] Papal Way

As soon as Clopan's words came out, almost everyone had a strange expression similar to being struck by lightning.And Guillaume's face was even more exciting. He looked at Clopin in surprise, and murmured: "Damn it! How could you have such a terrible idea, buddy?"

"Isn't it like this?" Clopan felt bad, and his momentum weakened.

"You should go to a doctor to see your brain, Clopin. Do you think you can have such a son?" Guillaume said brusquely, "if you say that the bell ringer of Notre-Dame is your son, I might still believe it a little--but him? Come on!"

There were a few sporadic laughs from the tavern, and it was obvious that the regular customers knew who the bell ringer of Notre Dame was.Clopin's face turned blue and then red, and he muttered: "But it's really too similar..."

"No, no, Truyff, you should look at those beautiful eyes," said an old woman sitting in the tavern, "and the shape of the face and ears, which are all different from poor Paquette. .Not like you, of course. I don't understand. How could you think of him as your son?"

There was a burst of laughter in the tavern. How shocked he was just now, he laughed so loudly now.Indeed, Ace bears no resemblance to Clopin, either in looks or size.Unless they were blind, they would think that the two of them would be related by blood.

Clopin, however, was a little hesitant to come down from the stage, and muttered: "I don't like this, old woman, I can be regarded as his father."

"Paquette is making the bed for you," the old woman gave him a meaningful look, "but you are not husband and wife!"

There was laughter again in the tavern.Guillaume coughed twice and walked towards the Grand Duke: "Welcome to the Palace of Miracles."

The beggars in Paris are also divided into power and territory, and of course the most powerful and broadest gang among them is the Kingdom of Black Talk.If the vagrants want to gain a place in Paris, they must obtain the consent of the Kingdom of Black Talk.What the Grand Duke and Guillaume are discussing now is the destination and scope of activities of the homeless.

Ace sighed secretly, stroking the emerald in his palm.In fact, it is very simple to know whether Clopan is his father. You only need to consume a few gems and see his memories of the past 17 years...

The strange thing is that when he first noticed him, Clopan seemed to really think that he was Ace's father, and when it was later proved that there was no relationship between the two, he had a hesitant look on his face again, as if It's like I'm not sure what I think... Is there any story between them?

He didn't need to pry into other people's past, and he had enough time to learn the whole truth... Ace lowered his arm and took back the gem.

Bashir touched his arm at this moment, and whispered: "I have something to tell you."

Ace raised his eyebrows, raised his head, and his eyes happened to meet the last priest standing in the crowd.The priest is already very old and weak. Even with the help of Ace, his body has been weakening rapidly in the past two years.But even though his life is not long, his habit of love to play tricks has not changed. After meeting Ace's eyes, he actually winked at him narrowly.

Ace snorted coldly, looked away, and walked outside first.Bashir followed suit.They walked around to the back of the tavern and stopped under a slightly cleaner eaves.

What Bashir wanted to say, Ace almost had a guess in his mind.The old man stood under the eaves and asked, "What do you want to say?"

"...about your parents." Bashir lowered his head, nervously rolling the stones under his feet, "That beggar, he is not your father."

It is now evening, the sunset glow in the sky is very bright, and the afterglow of the setting sun gently envelopes the earth, making this dilapidated and messy slum look a bit more beautiful.

Looking across the rows of low houses, Ace looked very calm: "I know."

Bashir looked at him suspiciously, and said: "Although I don't know who your mother is, I think I have seen your father... Although it's been a long time, I have almost forgotten it. But I'm sure he's at least five feet tall, and it can't be Clopin."

Ace couldn't help raising his eyebrows with interest, didn't Bashir always hope that he could find his parents?

"I thought you would keep it a secret, Bashir." He said meaningfully, "Just now you told me that knowing who my parents are is meaningless to me."

There was blood on Bashir's face, and he said in a low voice: "But I can't watch you recognize a stranger as your father—it's better to know who your parents are than to be deceived."

"...Don't take me for that kind of idiot, Bashir." Ace couldn't help but be a little bit dumbfounded.Not to mention whether he would recklessly believe someone else's words, even if he did, he would be able to know whether the other party was real or not with a little magic to detect blood relationship.However, these words may not be convincing to Bashir. After thinking for a while, he took out the sachet hanging around his neck and waved it in front of Bashir's eyes: "Do you remember this?"

"Your amulet?" Bashir asked suspiciously.

"There is a note here, probably written by the person who sent me: 'When the same little shoe is found again, mother will stretch out her arms to hug you'." Ace put that sentence He repeated it, smiled and shook his head, "Didn't you see that little shoe before? If my mother really cared about me, she would never throw the other shoe away. With this..."

"But you are already an Egyptian!" Bashir said loudly, with a grim expression on his face, "You have been among us since you were a child, and you are a complete Egyptian except for your blood. Past parents, are you leaving us?"

Ace frowned, and asked back, "When did I say I was leaving you?"

Bashir was taken aback.Ace sighed and put a hand on his shoulder.Feeling the stiffness and tension of the muscles under his hands, his voice could not help but soften a lot: "Don't worry, Bashir, I will not leave you. Since I accepted that identity, I have clearly understood my identity. What is the responsibility..." His voice was low, with vague sentimentality, "but you know, I've never seen them... I just want to meet them."

Bashir really hesitated, and after a while he said dryly: "But, if you see him... I'm afraid you will feel very disappointed."

he?Not her?Ace frowned, a little puzzled.He thought that the mother was forced to give the child to the Egyptians because she couldn't afford it, or that he was stolen in infancy, as the wanderers claimed... He did doubt his father, but After Winrrick revealed Paget's identity, he had given up on this guess, because even Emerald's mother herself might not know who the child's father was... But now, Bashir told him, He met his father?

"why?"

"He sent you to our camp with his own hands." Bashir said angrily, "You are dressed in a black robe, with blond hair and blue eyes, neat and elegant like an aristocrat—as if he had been prepared for a long time, he held a The baby walked into Qiao Nali's tent, and walked out with another baby in her arms. Within a few days, Qiao Nali had a high fever and lost her life..."

Having said that, he raised his head and looked at Ace again: "Do you think there is no reason for him?"

"According to what you said, his family should be well-off and well-educated." Ace whispered, and looked up at him, "Why would he do such a thing?"

Like the mainland of Maris, although the attitude of this continent towards illegitimate children is not good, it is not to the point of killing them all.If his "father" was really from a wealthy family and was a merchant or aristocrat, then he should give Paquette a sum of money to send her and the child away, or adopt the child, even if it does not give him the status of a legitimate child, at least And will raise him to grow up...

"Maybe it's because he's a priest." Bashir had a sarcastic look on his face. "He looks like he's only 20 years old. How could he lose his future because of that?"

Priests are not allowed to get married, so it seems that it can be explained... But Ace always felt that something was wrong, and when he was thinking, there was a crisp sound next to him.

"Who!?" Bashir asked immediately.

"Damn it, it's a mousetrap!" A voice cursed in a low voice, and then a young man limped out from around the corner.He wore half-worn clothes and looked like a student, with a cut in his boot and a rusty iron clip clenched tightly.

"I didn't mean to listen to you." He said calmly, "It's because your voice is too loud! What priest, what murderer, are you planning to murder the cardinal? Count me in. These devils!"

Although he looked only fifteen or sixteen years old, his appearance was very handsome, with blond hair, blue eyes, and fair complexion. Even if his attitude seemed a little frivolous, he was not annoying.

Ace took a look at him and judged that he was not threatening, so he turned and walked to the other side, preparing to talk in another place.However, he let the young man go, but the young man didn't appreciate it. He jumped over and grabbed his hand, saying in an ambiguous tone, "You are so beautiful, beauty, do you want to go with me to the old lady Farudelle for a drink?"

"..." Ace turned his head and pointed to himself, "I look like a woman?"

The boy shook his head honestly.

"If you don't let go of my hand, I'll treat you to the devil for a drink." Ace said with a half-smile.His other hand flicked slightly, and the mousetrap that had been bitten on the edge of the boy's boot jumped violently, rubbing against his ankle and closing it again.

The boy suddenly broke out in a cold sweat, screaming strangely and jumping back: "Damn it! What kind of magic is this!"

"I guess you pissed off God today, so God wants to teach you a lesson."

"God's anger can't be vented on me. My good brother, Mr. Claude, the vice-bishop of Paris, has already helped me find a substitute." The young man said nonchalantly, staring at Ai "Did you do it, gypsy? How did you do it?"