Scales of Eternal Order

Abloshte “persuades” Namen, and they decide to abandon their previous suspicions and engage in an “intimate” cooperation.

As a constraint, they came up with a magic contract.

“Both of us will benefit from this”-this is what the dwarf investigator said to Namen-but he didn’t know that mortals want to benefit from signing a contract with a contract demon, it is no different Yu Chiren said dreams.

Naturally, after a symbolic hesitation, Namen signed his “big name” on the contract.

For the contract demon, as long as the handwriting is slightly changed, even if the contract is signed with his real name, there are still big loopholes in the contract.

It can be successfully concluded, but it cannot be executed normally.

With this false “foothold”, even if the terms of the contract are still tight, Namen can still easily find some profitable loopholes.

Moreover, he quickly got the first “surprise joy”: due to lack of relevant information, until now he can only use “mercenary captain”, “high man”, ” The guys, such as “electric monk” in general terms, signed their real names on the contract.

Oken Feist, which means “Oak Fist”. Judging from the name, this man should be born in the eastern city-state of Ramsey. It is also consistent with the background of most of the members of the mercenary group.

The signed magic contract stipulates that Oakfist must find the exact location of the tomb of the soul within three days, and if Namen succeeds in getting out of the tomb, he and Abroshet must respond He is out of town.

These two requirements do not require them to enter the tomb of the dangerous lurks on every side. It seems to be relatively safe. However, in practice it is not that simple at all.

Otherwise, Namen would not agree to accept their “help”, and at the same time would allocate half of the commission for the task.

If Oakfist and Dwarf can really do what they promise, then this cooperation is simply worth the money.

After dinner and signing a contract, the dwarf and the electric monk invited Namen to live in the camping tent they prepared.

Not only did a mercenary group ambush under the sandbank, but also a temporary stronghold was dug out. These people used the rectangular pressure-resistant inflatable tents produced by Pygmy Island to build a warm and Enough concealed shelter.

“I know Junlin City better than the best’streetman’ you can find.” Before the break, Namen finally heard the promise of Oak Fist. “I hope so,” Namen replied simply.

For the next few days, they all stayed camping near this sand bank. Occasionally, a few mercenaries will go to the official road a few miles away after disguising themselves and go along the road to Junlin City to buy some food.

Finally, Namen appeared as if his patience was gradually exhausted. He kept telling dwarves and electric monks that those “accomplices” who had been out of contact for a long time could become dangerous variables. The other party just comforted him by saying, “A good meal is not afraid of late, wait.”

Seven days have passed, until the forged bruises on Namen’s body and the bruises formed in the tavern fight have completely disappeared. , Oak Fist announced the good news to him, “I have found the exact location of the tomb of the soul, and can start the operation today.”

However, the electric monk immediately asked for Men must forgive him, “You need your cooperation to get into that place.”

……

It’s really interesting, Namen thought, there are many things that can only be done in a cell. . The guards looked at each other and laughed, then closed the cell door heavily.

Namen stood up, patted the dust on his body, and moved his shoulders. Because Oak Punch gave him a punch, there was still some soreness there until now.

“The human body is really fragile,” the Leviathanized contract demon complained in his heart, but he quickly adjusted his mentality.

He began to look at the scene in the cell. The lower part of the cell door was a solid wooden door, and the upper part was an iron fence. He could see the three guards opening his large duffel bag, checking or looting his belongings.

One of them noticed his sight. It was a small but fierce-looking guy, with a shaved head, and the tattoos on his neck showed his identity.

“The jailer transferred from Wasang Naoejin,” Namen thought to himself. The light in the cell was very dim, and the dirty uniforms on those people could barely tell that they were the yellow and blue colors that are the hallmark of Junlin City cell management.

The little jailer walked slowly to the door of the cell, leaving his companions to continue playing with Namen’s belongings. “I heard that you had a great fight,” the man said, looking up and down at Nammen. Namen didn’t answer.

“The bartender at the Prancing Horse Pub said that you brought down almost No. 20,” the jailer rubbed his chin, “I don’t think you are great. No matter what you say, you are coming back to continue making trouble. Think about it before. Others will only stay in the cell for a few nights or get a few whips. But you… dare to make trouble in the’devil’s stomach’ and try to murder Mr. Cullian’s idiot, and you get to the gallows.”

Namen turned around. This cell is quite practical, but lacks creativity. There is a slender daylight opening on the top of one wall, the wet stone wall is covered with moss, and there is a pile of rotten and dirty straw in the corner.

This was once a dormitory in a labor camp, but later it was turned into a prison in Junlin City. The guards here were originally desert elf warriors and camel warriors, but now they have been changed to jailers transferred from Naoejin—everyone has their own field of specialisation.

“Hey, look,” said a jailer who was tossing a duffel bag, “what is this?” The people who guard the dungeon are often as bad as the one they guard, or even worse.

Namen disagrees with this phenomenon.

After all, the Everlasting Scales Chamber of Commerce does not care whether such people are kept in prison or kept outside. Just let them make the best use of their resources and stay away from the decent people who work hard.

In fact, with the power of the Chamber of Commerce, it is completely possible to find some demons from the lower realms as guards. But that is just a waste of resources, especially in this situation.

A jailer took out a slender object wrapped in white linen from Namen’s duffel bag. The man unfolded the package and blew his whistle: It was a thin long sword encased in a silver scabbard, and the hilt was made of black ink jade.

“Who do you think he stole from?” The short jailer glanced at Namen, as if wondering if he was a nobleman from another city. Although there is no noble system in King’s Landing, many nearby city-states have nobles and noble women.

But which noble master would wear this hazel cloak? Which aristocratic master would condescend to participate in bar fights, and more than once? Not to mention, the stubble on Nammen’s face exudes sour beer, not the smell of high-end drinks, and his feet are a pair of canvas rubber boots that only adventurers can wear.

“Let me see,” the little man walked towards his companion. He was obviously the chief officer of several wosang jailers, because the other jailer gave the luxurious long sword directly Up him.

After taking the long sword, he murmured, obviously frightened by its weight. He turned the sword over and noticed the buckle that held the scabbard on the hilt to prevent accidental release.

He unlocked it.

“Be careful, that sword is dangerous,” Namen whispered with a smile. The head of the jailer lifts the head and glanced at him, and the surrounding area instantly calmed down. The man snorted and made a vague gesture.

Several jailers put some worthless things-the single-edged giant axe, some gem coins that can only be circulated in other city-states, and a few thin papers scratched with ghost picture talisman things Throw it in the duffel bag.

The duffel bag was left in the corner of the dungeon.

The luxurious long sword and some King’s Landing banknotes were taken by them where everyone could see. Several jailers walked to a jailer’s lounge nearby, and then closed the door with a “peng”.

Namen shrugged, waiting for the good show to be performed.