There are people in the shop.

An old man.

A very, very ordinary old man, with no distinctive looks, no distinctive dresses, no distinctive expressions, and no distinctive movements, such an old man Al has met hundreds of thousands along the way.

Of course, the hundreds, thousands, here do not mean that they are the same person, but that they have the same characteristics, and their characteristics are-

There are no features.

If you read it, you will forget it.

Maybe it's the old man who passes by on the corner of the street, maybe it's the old man sitting in the doorway basking in the sun, maybe it's the old priest of the monastery who looks at you with a smile of pity, maybe it's the unkempt beggar on the street, in short, he's the one you forgot what you look like.

At this moment, the old man of the shopkeeper, who had no features, was squinting his eyes, and with a look of calm and fatigue on his face, he was sitting behind an old counter basking in the sun, and the sun was shining obliquely, and he could see the stars floating in the air with a faint golden luster.

He tilted his head to one side, opened his mouth slightly, and a thin stream of saliva ran down the corner of his mouth.

It's a very peaceful picture.

Seeing such a scene, Al couldn't help but feel an inexplicable feeling in his heart.

Originally, he wanted to take a look at this small shop, but seeing such a scene made him unbearable to disturb the old man's sweet and peaceful sleep.

He took a small step back, ready to turn and leave.

At this moment, the old man, who seemed to be sleeping very deeply, suddenly woke up from his dream with a shudder, and then his half-open and half-closed eyes seemed to see the back of the guest who was about to leave.

"Why don't you come in and have a look before you leave?"

The old man smashed his mouth and said dreamily.

Al stopped.

But when he turned his head to look, the old man of the shopkeeper had changed his position and fell asleep again.

Al thought about it for a moment and walked back to the store.

It's a mess.

Al sighed in his heart.

Maybe I didn't think much of it outside, but when I actually walked into this store, I realized that it was even more chaotic inside than I imagined.

There was no concept of a display stand or a display table at all, everything was packed into several large cardboard boxes and displayed on old low wooden tables.

The cartons contained a wide variety of items, including daggers with scabbards, silver teapots with fine workmanship but patterned textures filled with dirt, combs inlaid with beautiful stones, and books with seemingly thick pages.

It's these things that have nothing to do with each other that are piled up haphazardly, and these things look quite old, so that this qiē is not so much a commodity as a pile of old goods that others don't want.

Seeing that the books were also pressed between these old things, and that the book covers and pages seemed to be stained with a lot of dirt, Al was slightly distressed.

He took away the knife, the jug, and a mirror that had been pressed against it, and picked up a book that had been oppressed for a long time.

The Roar of the Demon King and the Scream of the Maiden

The text written on the cover of the book is obviously the title of the book.

Al turned the page.

The first page was densely packed with words, and it was then that Al realized that he had never seen them before, but he didn't know why he was able to recognize them naturally.

Generally speaking, this kind of first page text is used by book authors to boast or praise each other, and this book is no exception.

Al flipped straight to page five.

There are even pictures?

It's no wonder that Al was surprised that an illustrated book would cost much more than a text-only book.

After all, if it is just text, it is not a problem for movable type printing, but if you bring illustrations, you must use engraving, and if you want to achieve a certain level of quality control of illustrations, you must also spend a lot of money to hire excellent craftsmen and painters, after all, there are far fewer people who can draw well than those who can write well.

And the painting in front of me has obviously surpassed the level of a good painting in the ordinary sense.

It's alive and vivid.

It depicts a young girl.

A young girl who can't get up and down her body.

Al hadn't seen a naked woman, if Angel and Amber could be considered women, but he hadn't seen the body of a real girl, a girl with a mature body like the one in the book.

The girl is lifelike, with two plump and round fruits on her chest, lush hair growing underneath, and her body is extremely plump and full.

This is the biggest difference in the bodies of women Al has ever seen.

However, this didn't attract much of Al's attention, as the body was just a painting, and it was far from what Al had seen before.

What really caught Al's attention was the dots, arrows, and corresponding text on the girl's body.

General Sensitive Point, Strongly Sensitive Point, General Pain Point, Strong Pain Point, General Itch Point, Strong Itch Point

What is this?

A few more pages back, the naked girl can be seen on almost every page, and the movements and postures are getting stranger and stranger.

Some of their hands and feet were tied with ropes, and the whole person was fixed in the shape of a large character.

Some of them lay on the ground, like a puppy with their heads buried in food.

"Boss, how much does this book cost?"

Although he couldn't understand the number, out of his penchant for collecting books, Al raised the book in his hand and asked the shopkeeper.

The old man, who was groggy from sleep, opened his eyes, glanced at the book in Al's hand, wiped the saliva from the corner of his mouth, and put a strange and lewd smile on his face.

"The little guy really has a vision, this book counts you as five hundred gold coins. ”

"Five hundred gold coins?!"

If Al had no concept of money in Lumber Village, he might not have heard such a thing, but for Al now, he knew very well that five hundred gold coins would be enough to cover the normal expenses of an ordinary small family for several months, and here it turned out to be the price of such a book.

"What, it's too expensive?" the smile on the old man's face immediately turned cold.

"Five hundred gold coins can buy a lot of books. Al explained, but under the old man's momentum, he looked a little weak.

"Can those books out there compare to the books I have here?" said the old man proudly.

"Hey, I should have known, you don't look like a rich person. He shook his head again in disappointment: "Then how much money did you bring?"

"I have more than sixty gold coins," Al said, still too young.

The old man looked disappointed, and he pouted into the corner of the store and said, "If you can afford something, it's there." ”

It turns out that all the things in Valari are so expensive?

Al suddenly sensed the malice of the world.

The things in the corner were more filthy and shabby than the outside, a broken doll, a used spoon, a few old colored buttons

Isn't this really a scrap yard?

Al had the same doubts again.

Isn't it enough that even a scrapyard is not so outrageous? Look at this, when will even stones be sold for money?

At this time, Al couldn't help but wonder if he had really arrived at the so-called 'black shop', but unlike the black shop described in the book, there were no bosses and men with fierce faces, only a sleepy old man.

With a helpless smile on his face, Al picked up the stone and prepared to take it to a position that was out of the way, but the moment Al picked up the stone with his hand-

Erlen was on the spot.

Is this - stone?