"Well done."

In a bar in the slums of Paris, France, a man in a black top hat took a sip of brandy from a glass in front of him.

Opposite him, a fierce-looking man also took a sip of wine.

It's just that the wine in his glass was different from the man across from him, it was holy water in the eyes of the scruffy sailors by the harbor, rum.

There was a not-so-good-looking roast on a wooden plate on the table, and the man in the top hat sniffed it and lost his intention to eat it.

He held the frosted glass on the table, which was not very beautifully made, and the wine in it was barely acceptable.

It doesn't matter much, it's just that I'm here to talk about business.

The man thought to himself. He looked at the man across from him, and he was waiting for the man to speak.

The fierce-looking man looked up at the man in the top hat, and a scar under the corner of his left eye, which had been blocked by lowering his head, was also revealed. It made his face look even more terrifying.

"Where's the money? Briton. ”

He asked, his voice hoarse, like the sound of sandpaper rubbing against a glass window. The tone was unscrupulous. This is his territory.

The bartender wiping his glass with a rag at the bar next to him bowed his head as if he hadn't seen anything.

"Five hundred riyals."

"You're kidding me."

The man said with an angry face. Unlike the calm of the man across from him, he was genuinely angry. No one had ever dared to speak to him like that, especially after he became the boss of the ghetto.

And the explosion in the dueling arena in Paris took him a lot of effort to make. If it weren't for the reward promised by the British, who was greedy at the beginning, he wouldn't have done this.

A flintlock pistol was drawn from under the table, and he was a little angry. thought that if this matter was not done well and was found out, he would definitely go to the gallows.

"Pay or die here."

More than a dozen people walked in at the same time as the man drew his flintlock pistol and stood behind the boss. They are all henchmen of this boss.

"Huh."

The man in the top hat put down his glass, and his gaze looked at the scar man like he was looking at a poor worm.

"What will happen to you?"

He asked himself.

"Kill me?"

His expression calmed down after a few changes, and the English gentleman let out a sigh of relief, not feeling at all that his somewhat frantic demeanor was a bit rude just now.

"Bang!"

The scar man still couldn't hold back, he raised his hand, intending to shoot the rich man in front of him in the chest. Then let the people behind him simply dispose of the corpse.

However, he was pushed from behind and knocked down on the table.

Four hands grabbed both of his hands fiercely, including the right hand with a flintlock pistol.

Like four shackles, he couldn't move. No matter how much he struggled in front of this group of men who were so powerful at the beginning, it seemed a little futile.

With a chill in his heart, he finally understood something.

"You damned Oriental heretics!"

He yelled, hoping someone could hear. But he forgot that he was looking for this secluded place. He has not done any less murder in such a place.

"No, no, no, no."

The Englishman sitting across from him snatched Scarface's tightly gripped flintlock pistol in his hand. In the old style, this gun seems to only shoot one bullet at a time.

Deftly put the rusty muzzle of the gun against Scarface's mouth as it was pressed on the table.

The man in the top hat looked at him, still with that expression. Even though there were more than a dozen people on the opposite side looking at him, waiting for his order.

"The 500 eight riyals just now was given to you, so that you can make a good living in the new world, who knows that you don't accept my kindness."

"Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! ”

Seeing that he looked like he was about to pull the trigger, Scarface shook his head and body desperately. But it was in vain.

"Since you want to be a small stone in the way of the church's holy war, then, I can only kick you away."

"Oh, by the way, to reiterate, we are the native church of the West. It has nothing to do with that church in the Eastern Empire. ”

"Bang!"

After saying that, the gunshot rang out.

The man in the top hat let a few bits of blood splash on his clothes, and he had no intention of dodging.

"Squeak."

The door to the bar was pushed open again, and someone cautiously walked in.

But unlike just now, this time there was only one person.

"Your Excellency."

The man's head turned, and after glancing at the scar-faced corpse on the table and the Englishman with a flintlock pistol in his hand, he exclaimed respectfully.

"Yes."

The Englishman looked at him, handed him the flintlock pistol, and motioned for the man to hold it for him.

"Wood."

The man in the top hat said, but it seemed to be talking to himself.

"Your Excellency."

The man who had just come in stood in front of the murderer with low eyebrows, but the dozen or so hooligans behind him who had killed countless people did not show any strangeness. Even if this Wood is their new boss.

"Well done, I finally avenged our parishioners."

He said, his eyes flashing with frenzy and hatred. It is like a core member of an organization in the Middle East.

The parishioners in the mouth of the man in the top hat died under the gallows at Paris Place as early as noon yesterday. And the Duke of Chels, who had just been killed, killed the initiators of those people. Just because those few people are pagans of the White Lotus.

Looking at the person in front of him and the bartender who had already wiped his glass several times, he continued.

"But that's not enough."

"Ding!"

A coin with Arabic numerals on the front and a lotus flower on the reverse was tossed into the glass in front of him by the Englishman.

The glass of brandy was not finished, the coin fell into it, and it was soon surrounded by a small bubble in the inferior drink.

"Take this coin and go to the Rose Tavern near the dueling arena, where there is someone from our brother church who will help you and tell you what to do next."

The man in the top hat pushed open the door of the somewhat dimly lit bar and stepped out.