The outskirts to the east of Woma Town are extremely desolate, and countless unknown weeds absorb the power of the night and grow unscrupulously. Like tonight's moonlight, the wind caresses the earth and blows the waves in the darkness. There are a few houses here, but because they have been abandoned for a long time, they also look eerie. A dark shadow traveled through the overgrown place, and a new country road appeared behind it, like a ghost.

He stopped in front of a dilapidated-looking mansion, the paint on the pillars had long since fallen, not to mention the cobwebs and the collapsed half of the courtyard wall, and the door panels were still half left, but they were still lingering, and the wind blew and let out a squeaky moan. There was no light in the courtyard, and the black shadow slowly walked towards the courtyard by the moonlight.

The overgrown courtyard, the mottled white walls, the broken eaves, the walls are crawling with creepers and dead vines that grow in an orderly manner, and the stone tables and stone benches fall to the ground horizontally and vertically, all of which are imaginary dilapidation. The rockery is falling, the pond is only shallow, and the rocks and rotting leaves are full of it, accompanied by the low chirping of wild insects, even so, it also declares that this was once a very orderly mansion.

In the middle of the manor, the outline of a curved flower garden can be vaguely seen, but there are no flowers in the garden, only vines and weeds, charred and yellow, extending in all directions. But in the middle of this dry and messy grass, on the half-collapsed flower stand, there was a man lying on his stomach, his hair disheveled, crumbling into a piece of clothes of indistinct color, full of wine, and scattered bones and fruit pits on the side.

This is a standard vagabond, it seems that today's luck is good, he got a lot of food, seeing that he is still holding a jar of wine in his arms, he does not relax at all even when he falls asleep, like his only treasure, for fear that others will steal it.

The black shadow came in front of him, not tall, but the wide robes could not hide the strong body. He took off his hood and showed a resolute side face, none other than Garcia Bale. His brow furrowed deeply, and he looked down condescendingly at the drunken homeless man. Then he bent down and ruffled the homeless man's hair a little, barely able to make out his face, and then determined that this was the man he was looking for.

He stood up, and an astonishing momentum poured out of his body like a bright lamp. He clenched his hands and even began to tremble, and an angry roar kept brewing in his mouth, just waiting for the moment of explosion. But after a long time, he just let go of his hand, and everything returned to calm in this second. He was silent for a long time, then removed the water bladder from his waist and poured it all over the homeless man's face.

"Hmm...... Well...... don't, don't, don't! Not...... Not....... ”

The homeless man cried out loudly, snot and tears, but his eyes were still closed, as if he were still in a nightmare, and he had not woken up.

This murmur seemed to anger Barais at last, and he lifted the homeless man with both hands above his head, and then threw himself among the weeds. The homeless man exclaimed, shrunk in the air, held his head in his hands, slammed into the ground, and rolled several times before stopping.

Balai strode after him, and without saying a word, threw the homeless man into the grass deeper into the mud. The homeless man would hold on to the jar in his arms every time, and even though he had been thrown many times, the jar was still not broken. Balé, apparently furious, grabbed the man again, but threw him into the rancid pool.

"Ahh Yes! Yes! ”

At last the homeless man cried out loudly, and even the wine jar, which he regarded as a treasure, crawled out of the pool. The shadow wouldn't let him get his way, and as soon as he stepped on the dirt, he kicked him back into the sewage.

Back and forth, the homeless man seemed to have exhausted all his strength, and just lay down in the muddy water, trying to stretch his neck, like a drowning man, and raised his head high, even if the pool of water was only about to reach his knees.

"Is this what it looks like now? Look at yourself, where there is still a little warrior look! Are you still the head of The Hague I know, Storm Bear, Krieg Duran, open your eyes and see, I'm Balai! ”

When Bale finally spoke, it was evident that the homeless man still did not react, but only cried and screamed, and went up again with punches and kicks. The homeless man just curled up and let the strong man beat, occasionally making a muffled snort in his throat, but he couldn't speak.

"Good, good." Balai said hello three times in succession, each louder than the other.

"I'll let you drink!" As he spoke, he flicked his sleeves, and an arrow came out of his hand, smashing the jar of wine, and the wine spilled into the turbid pool water, and a cold fragrance mixed with the stench of decay suddenly diffused.

The homeless man smelled the wine and squatted down slightly, as if to bend down to suck the pool of sewage. With a push of his palm, Balai immediately overthrew him to the ground, and he got up again, and he overthrew again, back and forth, like a boring game.

The homeless man finally became anxious, screamed a few times, and raised his fist and struck at Balai. Balai didn't dodge or dodge, he ate him with a punch, and then pushed it out with a palm, but this time it was different from before, his palm gathered the power of wind and thunder, and with just this palm, the homeless man flew out a full three feet away and hit the eaves wall. The already dilapidated wall collapsed, sending up a lot of dust.

Balai walked step by step, completely ignoring the blood that kept spilling from the corners of his mouth, and said coldly: "If you still have a trace of warrior pride, you shouldn't stay in this corner as a walking corpse, you are a coward!" ”

The homeless man's cloudy eyes seemed to clear a little, but they quickly dimmed again.

"What's that skinny boy's name? Oh, by the way, Jimmy. ”

The corners of Balai's mouth twitched, as if he had put on a mask of cruelty, and then jokingly:

"You know, The Hague is still there."

The homeless man was visibly reacting and seemed to be struggling.

Balai paused for a moment before continuing: "That kid is now the head of the Hague mercenaries, what can the hairy boy be able to do back then, The Hague has become a third-rate mercenary group that can be slaughtered by others. ”

"Have you heard of the Cheetah Mercenary Regiment? The mercenary group, which has only risen in recent years, dares to accept any outlaw, and there is no bottom line to start. ”

Barley leaned down close to the homeless man and whispered in his ear:

"I heard that they have been eyeing the navigation line in the hands of The Hague for a long time, and it is said that they are preparing to launch a war to destroy the group. Now it's not like we were at that time to abide by the rules, destroy the group, destroy the group, no matter the old and young, no matter the relatives, as long as it is a mercenary in The Hague, they will die! ”

The homeless man suddenly shouted, baring his teeth and claws at the demon grinning in the dark.

Bale kicked him back into the corner with a casual kick, and then, as if suddenly losing all interest, walked straight out, only to stop abruptly, take something resembling an invitation from his bosom, and throw it among the weeds.

"I'm ready to go to sea, you know that thing isn't dead at all, this time, I'll kill it."

After saying that, he didn't look back, and strode away. All that remained was the homeless man who vomited blood, panting for breath, and then suddenly crying, heartbreaking, hoarse.