Klein adjusted his cap, carefully protecting the wallet in the inner pocket of his gray-blue worker's jacket, and bypassed the drinkers gathered around the boxing ring, heading straight for the bar.
Along the way, he scanned the area and didn't see Kaspars Kaning, the black market arms dealer.
"Either playing cards or playing pool..." Klein nodded to himself, sat at the bar, and said to the bartender:
"Half and half."
He had seen someone drink this alcoholic beverage before and felt it should suit his taste.
"At least more than simple malt beer..." Klein thought to himself without comparison.
The bartender looked up at him:
"Which two types of alcohol to mix? Different choices have different prices."
"Just the regular, the regular is fine." Klein had seen the person last time use the cheapest type, and the entire glass of "half and half" cost only two and a half pence.
"Four and a half pence." The bartender waited until Klein placed the copper coins on the counter before turning to mix the drink and adding casually, "Looking for Kaspars again? He's not here anymore. His business was taken over."
"Ah?" Klein didn't expect such an answer.
Before the bartender could reply, a man with a protruding mouth beside him laughed:
"Yes, Kaspars was driven away by us!"
"Heh, what right does a crippled old man like him have to do this kind of business?"
"If you need anything, come to us, come to our boss."
"A gang turf war?" Klein thought subconsciously, and was about to reject the offer.
But then he thought of another possibility:
"Is this the
"Hmm, this probability is not low. Kaspars has been a black market arms dealer here for a long time, and it's not easy for someone to drive him away. Recently, due to the continuous serial murders, the entire atmosphere in Backlund has been very tense. The Rose School, or other secret forces, in short, those looking for Maric and Miss Sharon, definitely wouldn't dare to kill and perform spirit channeling rashly to get answers—this would cause many bloody incidents, because they clearly have only some suspects and can't confirm who has a way to contact Miss Sharon and Maric..." Klein swallowed his words and instead asked:
"Can I first check the prices and then decide whether to buy?"
He planned to observe the ordinary forces that had taken over the black market transactions in Brave Adventure Bar. If he found any problems, he could use this to sell favors to Kaspars, Sharon, and Maric.
After all, Klein didn't want to have a conflict; he only intended to go through the normal process and evaluate, so there was no risk.
"Okay, the only requirement is..." The man made a zipping motion in front of his protruding mouth.
"No problem." Klein had just answered when he saw the "half and half" placed in front of him, and the copper pennies were collected by the bartender.
In the spirit of not wasting, he took several sips, and his brows gradually furrowed.
"Not the taste I imagined, too much alcohol, too little grape flavor..." Klein put down the glass and followed the man toward the third pool room where Kaspars used to stay.
As he approached the door, he suddenly thought of another thing:
"As someone with limited information, I can guess that this might be a trap. Would Miss Sharon and Maric, who have been pursued for so long, not be aware? They definitely wouldn't show up..."
"But Kaspars knows more than one Beyonders; he has connections with several Beyonder circles, so he might find other helpers, which would complicate things."
At this moment, the man with the protruding mouth stopped at the door of the pool room, and the distracted Klein almost bumped into him.
He pointed inside and said:
"Don't speak nonsense later. Our boss has a bad temper."
"The entire Bridge area of Backlund and the East District know that."
"Okay." Klein nodded lightly.
The man with the protruding mouth turned around satisfied and pushed open the door of the pool room.
As the door swung open, Klein saw a figure hanging in midair, gently swaying.
It was a burly man with a full beard, with a rope around his neck, tight and tight.
His feet were off the ground, his tongue sticking out, his face purple, and his expression extremely twisted.
"Boss..." The man with the protruding mouth called out in disbelief.
"The tense atmosphere in Backlund had just disappeared, and someone had already taken action..." Klein glanced at the man's subordinate and solemnly drew a triangular holy emblem on his chest:
"May God let him rest in peace."
"Hope this cures his temper."
The man with the protruding mouth didn't hear what he said; he suddenly shouted:
"Boss!"
"Murder!"
"The boss is dead!"
Klein was shaken back two steps by the loud and piercing scream and casually opened his spiritual sight to observe the inside. He didn't find any special traces; only the pool balls on the table were scattered messily.