Life is like a play, it all depends on acting skills. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

After a live performance, John coughed, sat down in his chair with a serious face, and re-entered the role of negotiator.

The result of this performance was even better than expected, at least, the arrogant old man opposite had completely lost his sense of proportion, and sat there coldly, without saying a word, like a piece of wood, and he didn't know what was going on in his heart.

John picked up the cup, found that the coffee had bottomed out, shook his head, and exclaimed,

"Knight, can you refill the coffee for us?"

Mars stepped out of the shadows, glanced coldly at John, got up and walked out, and three minutes later he re-entered through the side door, with a plate of steaming coffee and a stack of toast slices on it.

John took his coffee and was about to reach for the fragrant slices of bread when he was stopped.

"It's not for you!"

Mars said indifferently, putting away the two empty cups on the table, and strolling out of the church, soon disappearing into the dazzling sunlight.

John raised his eyebrows, his expression was very displeased, no matter how he said that he was also a guest, as the master's house, he didn't even eat hot bread.

All right! Boy, you've me off completely.

John took a sip of hot coffee, put it heavily on the table, and said with some annoyance,

"Mr. Priest, haven't you thought about it yet?"

Father Doron raised his head and looked at John with a blank expression, his dark brown eyes shining with a terrifying light that made people dare not look at him like a sharp sword.

"Who the hell killed that werewolf?" He suddenly asked,

Hearing this, John's arm stiffened for a moment, and then he put it down as if nothing had happened, and said with an unchanged face,

"What do you say?"

"Not you?"

With his hands on his chest, John didn't nod or shake his head, just leaned back in his chair quietly, without any emotion on his face.

"Tell me, who killed that werewolf?" The priest pressed again,

"Is it important?"

"Yes, it's important!"

"That's good!" John leaned forward, sharp, and unflinching,

"You tell me why you want to build a cathedral in such a sparsely populated place, and what is the real purpose of the Church in sending you here,

You give me the reason, and I'll give you the answer! ”

"It can't be!"

The priest flatly rejected John's offer without the slightest hesitation.

Seeing this, John shook his head slightly, a trace of disgust flashed in his eyes, and said,

"Mr. Priest, I don't know if you have ever heard a saying in the East: A strong dragon does not suppress the head snake of the earth,

You have a lot of skills and skills, and I can't afford to provoke you, and I don't dare to stop you, but ......"

As he spoke, John smiled, his eyelids drooped slightly, and his expression was arrogant and disdainful, "If you want to call for wind and rain in this land, without the help of me, the head of the land, I am afraid that you will not be able to move an inch." ”

There are many negotiation skills, but the most important thing is the momentum of the confrontation, as long as the momentum overpowers the other party, no matter what terrible hole cards the other party has, you have room to maneuver.

From the time of entering the door to the present, almost an hour has passed, but this invisible confrontation has still not entered the actual stage, the two are pulling each other's skin and testing each other, and neither of them is willing to make the slightest concession.

The hunger wait was the hardest, and suddenly, a strange grunt sounded in the church.

John was a little embarrassed, and punched him in the stomach, but he didn't want to, this punch went down, as if he had stabbed a hornet's nest, and the gurgling sound continued one after another, like the oppressive working people, who came to a complete general strike.

This sudden change greatly eased the tension in the church, and the priest shook his head, a little amused, pushed the plate in front of John, and said,

"If the eldest young master is hungry, you can use these breads to satisfy your hunger first!"

"Oh! Thank you so much! ”

John nodded, picked up the slice of bread and ate it, not embarrassed.

The negotiation continued unhurriedly, but as the atmosphere around him changed, John's way of speaking began to become more casual, as if he were meeting friends, muttering as he bit on bread,

"Mr. Priest, to tell you the truth, you and I have no other choice,

What about me?

In a deep crisis, sitting in the position of the first successor, but being constrained everywhere, I can't even find a helper, and I have no choice but to come to you for help;

And you, a quasi-bishop, a Templar, seem to be extremely powerful, but in fact you are isolated, after all, this is not New Orleans, nor is it a parish, in this unfamiliar land, no matter what you do, you can't do without the help of the locals, and who can really help you around? ”

"No more, no less, only three!"

John swallowed the bread, snapped his fingers, and analyzed them one by one,

"My father, Derek Condon, the real ruler of Condon Plantation, is the most suitable person, but now he is suffering from lung disease and has gone to Memphis to seek medical treatment, and I don't know if he can survive it, I don't need to tell you, you won't choose it."

"My brother, Blake Condon, a... Well! …… Brave... Fearless... Powerful... There are also grumpy young men, who have a wide range of friends, are uninhibited, loved by the local whites, and are the best collaborators except for my father, but after what happened last night, will you still choose him?

No! Should I say, do you still [dare] to choose him? ”

The word "dare" went straight into Father Doron's heart, he really didn't dare, even if there was no direct evidence that Blake was related to werewolves, but many times, doubt was the best evidence.

John smiled, took a sip of his coffee, and continued,

"And the other one, that is, I, John Condon, the eldest young master of the Condon family, the titular first heir to the plantation, a cowardly young man who only knows how to hide in the house and paint in the eyes of outsiders, although this choice does not seem to be good.

Something is better than nothing. ”

"What do you say, Mr. Priest?"

Father Doron was silent, perhaps speechless, or unwilling, but after a few dozen seconds, these were gone, he stood up, stretched out his right hand, and smiled,

"Master John, I think we can renegotiate the details of cooperation."

"I'm looking forward to it!"

John likewise stood up and stretched out his right hand.

The two hands were clasped together in the presence of Mars.

This is the end of the negotiations.

ps: Tomorrow, add more,

Here, I asked for a recommendation!!!!!