If anything, it was a poor, weak, and hierarchical city-state. Pen | fun | pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

It's like a pool of stagnant water, and you swim desperately to it to catch your breath.

The nobles were extremely poor and luxurious, and the city was full of hunger, and there were frozen bones on the road. Every day, men with stipends were tasked with removing the starving homeless from the streets and pushing them into the dark sewers of the city, lest the ragged, green-skinned flies of the corpses block the wooden wheels of the noble lord's carriage.

But before that, those corpses would have become the target of the wanderers. Thanks to the strange needs of the dark mages in the dungeons, corpses can be sold there for money. The corpse of a wanderer in the worst condition can also be exchanged for a Talen, the lowest copper coin in Noxus, and a Tarun can be exchanged for an expired hard bread in the Surface Shop.

This is the value of a human life, which can be described as a cheap grass.

Like this corpse on the street, a drunk man who froze to death on the street, and several homeless people quarreled and fought over this pile of pieces of meat that could be exchanged for bread.

As a result, the carriage had to stop in the middle of the street, and despite the loud shouts of the coachman sitting on the heights, and the whip of the horse's beating fell to the ground crisply, it could not drive them away quickly.

"Okay, let me have a full meal."

In the middle of the stop, the ragged man dragged his crippled legs, carried a wooden stick that could break at any moment, and leaned in front of the carriage window, his unwashed hair stained with dirt, and only visually emitted a disgusting smell, and under the dirty hair, there was an oriental face.

In the carriage was an old man, whose age was betrayed by his squirting figure and the smell of the old man that permeated the carriage—the decaying smell of dying wood—despite his hood and a pale mask covering his cheeks.

Another smell was mixed with it, from a certain perfume and a woman's scent, mixed with the smell of the old man, and made people feel disgusting with sweetness.

It was a woman, a young woman, with a slender figure, a plump breast, rose-purple eyeshadow and moist red lips, and a crown of purple and gold, with a peculiar shape. She held the old man's arm, and the intimate appearance of leaning on him obviously did not look like father and daughter. She glanced at the beggar with an oriental face, a pair of beautiful eyes that could hook the soul.

"Get out of here!" The coachman shook his whip at him, and the ragged rags suddenly opened open, revealing the lace at the end of the thread, stained red with blood.

"All right, my lord! May your life last forever in Noxus. You—" He spoke with a hoarse foreign accent, but his voice was like that of a teenager.

"Nothing else, I've got half a sour apple." The woman in the carriage said, raising her hand, and a green fruit was thrown in mid-air, but the trajectory was far away from the beggar's direction, and it was about to fall to the ground, and he had no time to catch it before it fell into the sinkhole.

This is a punishment for the weak who think they are shrewd. He may have seen from his attire that the lord was of noble birth and did not need to wait for the untouchables to quarrel, and that the coachman waited patiently, and that there were no guards around, that it was some kind of secret visit from the nobles, especially when it came to a beprising woman like her, who was not a noblewoman. Therefore, he tried to expose the identity of the adult in the car in exchange for what he wanted.

She smiled softly, thinking she was a smart fellow.

The beggar's next move surprised her a little, and he lifted the stick that supported his body, leaned forward with all his might, and straightened his outstretched arm, the length of the stick plus the arm, which was indeed enough in distance, but—

The missing green apple landed firmly on the stick, and the smooth skin of the fruit and the rough curved surface of the stick formed an incredible balance. As soon as he shook his wrist and lifted his stick, the apple was tossed and fell into his hand. The withdrawn crutches held the ground in time so that he did not fall.

Relies almost entirely on the strength of the upper limbs to maintain the body.

He took a bite of the green apple, the sour, juicy fruit bursting with juice between his dirty teeth.

"Oriental wisdom and mystical martial arts, well done, Ionians." He didn't hesitate to praise herself, said the woman in the car.

The old man remained silent.

The carriage moved, and the battle finally came to an end, with the two victorious men dragging away the bodies of the original contest along with the other two new dead.

The beggar pinched the apple and watched the moving carriage. "I wish you a long life, my lord."

This scene is fully observed by a man in a cloak in the distance. This is how they met, the meeting of two powerful men in Noxus.

When the carriage departed, the thugs on the corner immediately gathered around, like mosquitoes hovering near herbivores, and they didn't need to fight for food, they just pounced on them and sucked their blood.

And this lame beggar is new, and it is time to understand the rules of this street.

"Hey! The newcomer is good, and there is fruit to eat on the first day. Say what about you, hand it over, and let Lao Tzu's brothers taste it too. They played with the short knives in their hands and grinned as they walked towards the lame beggar.

"Yo, what kind of eyes are these?" The gangster who took the lead saw that the beggar had no intention of being caught, and his eyes widened. "Did him."

The man in the cloak on the street corner saw this, but chose to pause and continue to watch.

In a matter of moments, the beggar's crutch left the ground, like a sharp knife from under a cloak, and struck a man in the waist with a dull blow, and the bastard fell with grin. The continuous movements were pulled into one moment after another, the crutch fell to the ground to support, and the thrust was raised, there was no superfluous movement, and every time the process was repeated, a person fell down in a terrible scream.

One blow, one blow, lethal moves, interspersed into a set of clean and neat movements.

The leader of the gangsters at the back saw the four younger brothers in front of him fall one after another, and he didn't know what had happened in just a few seconds, when he suddenly saw that look in his eyes under the beggar's unkempt and dirty forehead.

Cold as a knife, I can't find a trace of mercy.

His face turned red, his blood surged, and he spat out a mouthful of blood and fell directly to the ground.

It's the art of killing.

"You're late." The beggar didn't look back, his shoulders fluttering, and the crisp click of an apple was snapping. "The scene of the hero saving the beggar is a bit trendy, but it's a pity."

"I'm sorry." The man in the black cloak stood behind him.

"As long as it's not too late after that, it's done."

"After that?"

"You've been watching, and I'm paying attention to you." "If there was no audience, there would be no performance you see," he said. ”

"Performance?"

"Hmm." The beggar said, "What if I fought back so beautifully every time?" ”

"Will die." In Noxus, the disabled and homeless will be killed sooner or later if they can't stand the oppression.

"That's right. But I know you're watching. ”

"Me? We've never met before, have we? ”

"Yes." The beggar said, his boyish-like voice triumphant, "But you're a killer." ”

The black-cloaked man looked incredulous. "Am I exposed?"

"It's murderous."

"Kill...... Gas? "Strange combination of nouns.

"The smell of predators. But you're a novice, so you're here to make sure you want to make sure that the drunk you killed ended up disposing of the body or alerting the sheriff. ”

"You...... Does my profession matter, sir? ”

"It doesn't matter. But you are a nobleman. ”

Like the last reed that crushes a camel's back.

"Du Kekao. My name. He lowered his voice.

"It's called zero under it." Lame beggar said, strange oriental name. "This is not the place to talk."

"Where are you going?"

"Dragon." As he said this, he took off the hood of his burlap blouse, and his face unexpectedly felt youthful, but it matched that voice.

The Dragon's Bar, where the killer is entrenched.

――End of text,To be continued――

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