"Well done."
In a bar in the slums of Paris, France, a man wearing a black hat took a sip of the brandy in the glass in front of him and said.
Opposite him, a man with a fierce look also took a sip of wine.
It's just that the drink in his glass is different from that of the man opposite him.
It's the holy water in the eyes of the sloppy sailors at the port, rum.
There was a piece of barbecue that didn't look very good on a wooden plate on the table.
The man in the top hat gave up his intention of eating the meat after taking a sniff.
He was holding the frosted glass on the table, which was not very beautifully made.
He could barely accept the wine in it.
It doesn't matter, I'm just here to discuss business.
The man thought to himself.
He looked at the man across from him, waiting for him to speak.
The fierce-looking man raised his head and looked at the man in the top hat.
The scar under the corner of his left eye that had been blocked when he lowered his head was also exposed at this time.
It made his face look even more terrifying.
"The money is British." he asked, his voice hoarse, like the sound of sandpaper scraping against a glass window.
The tone was unashamed.
This is his territory.
The bartender who was wiping glasses with a rag at the bar next to him lowered his head as if he didn't see anything.
"Five hundred eight rials."
"You're kidding me."
The man said with an angry look.
Unlike the man opposite him who was calm and composed, he was really angry.
No one had ever dared to talk to him like this, especially not after he became the boss of the ghetto.
Moreover, the explosion in the duel arena in Paris took a lot of effort on his part.
If he hadn't been greedy for the reward that the Englishman promised after his success, he wouldn't have done this.
He pulled out a short-barreled flintlock gun from under the table, and he became a little angry.
He thought that if he didn't get it right and was found out, he would definitely go to the gallows.
"Pay or die here."
A dozen people also walked in at the same time as the man drew his flintlock gun and stood behind the boss.
They are all the boss's confidants.
"Oh."
The man in the top hat put down his wine glass and looked at the man with the scar, as if he were looking at a poor man.
"What will happen to you" He asked and answered himself.
"Kill me" His expression calmed down after several changes, and the British gentleman exhaled, not feeling at all that his slightly crazy demeanor just now was rude.
"Bang" The scarred man still couldn't hold it back.
He raised his hand and planned to shoot the rich man in front of him in front of him.
Then let the people behind you simply dispose of the body.
However, he was pushed down on the table from behind.
Four hands grabbed his two hands fiercely, including the right hand holding the flintlock gun.
It was like four shackles, preventing him from moving.
No matter how hard he struggled, it seemed a bit futile in front of this group of men who were capable at the beginning.
Feeling cold, he finally understood.
"You damn Eastern pagans" He yelled, hoping someone could hear him.
But he forgot that he was the one who found this secluded place.
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He has done a lot of killing in places like this.
"No, no, no, no."
The Englishman sitting opposite him snatched the flintlock from Scarface's hand.
An older model, this gun seems to only be able to fire one bullet at a time.
Skillfully, he put the gun with a somewhat rusty muzzle into the mouth of Scarface, who was pressed on the table.
The man in the top hat looked at him with the same expression.
Even though there were more than ten people on the opposite side looking at him, waiting for his orders.
"The 500 eight riyals just now were given to you so that you could live a good life in the new world.
Who knew you didn't accept my kindness?"
"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu" Seeing that he seemed about to pull the trigger, Scarface shook his head and body desperately.
But it was in vain.
"Since you want to be a small stone in the church's holy war, then I can only kick you away."
"Oh, by the way, let me reiterate, we are a local church in the West.
We have nothing to do with the church in the Eastern Empire."
"Bang" After saying that, a gunshot rang out.
The man in the top hat allowed a few drops of blood to splatter on his clothes without any intention of avoiding it.
"Squeak."
The door of the bar was pushed open again, and someone walked in carefully.
But unlike before, there was only one person this time.
"grown ups."
The man turned his head, and after glancing at the scarred corpse on the table and the British man with a flintlock gun in his hand, he shouted respectfully.
"kindness."
The Englishman looked at him, handed over the flintlock gun in his hand, and motioned to the man to hold it for him.
"Wood."
The man in the top hat said, but he seemed to be talking to himself.
"grown ups."
The man who just came in stood in front of the murderer with a low eyebrow, but the dozen or so gangsters behind him who had killed countless people didn't behave very strangely.
Even though this Wood is their new boss.
"Well done, you finally avenged our fellow believers."
He said, with a hint of enthusiasm and hatred in his eyes.
He looks like a core member of an organization in the Middle East in real life.
The few church members mentioned by the top hat man died on the gallows in Paris Square as early as noon yesterday.
And the Duke of Chelsea who had just been killed in the explosion was the instigator of those people's deaths.
Just because those few people are White Lotus heretics.
After looking at the people in front of him and the bartender who had already wiped the wine glass several times, he continued.
"But it's not enough."
"bite" A coin with Arabic numerals printed on the front and a lotus flower printed on the back was thrown into the wine glass in front of him by the British man.
The brandy in the glass was not finished.
The coin fell into it and was soon surrounded by a few bubbles in the glass of inferior wine.
"Take this coin and go to the Rose Tavern near the duel site.
There are people from our brotherhood there.
He will help you and tell you the next plan."
The man in the top hat opened the door of this somewhat dim bar and walked out
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