Late at night, noisy taverns. Pen "Fun" Pavilion www.biquge.info

Smoky.

The smell of tobacco, alcohol, and fox mingled in the air, and under the eerie pink light, the mandolin luthier sang the tune of the recent rotten street with a feeble voice.

Continue.

It's an ordinary night in the Holy City.

For everyone here who is poorer than their pockets are dirtier than their faces, tonight is no different than ever.

After the restoration of order, not even a week had passed, and the blood shed by the Pope was forgotten in the corner.

Even if the big names at the top are intriguing and the situation becomes so strange and tense, to the people here, it is just a distant legend.

Only a few stillborn intrigues, successful tricks, will become legends by word of mouth, and will be passed on to oneself.

Rumors of a mutiny in the Garrison of the Holy City, the bloodbath of the entire family of an important witness in the Holy Rite of Amnesty, the premeditated assassination of the Pope, and the fornication of the wife of a certain nobleman with the Pope during his lifetime, etc., spread in the smell of low-quality alcohol and tobacco.

In this short week, a huge turmoil swept through the entire human world, and everywhere it went, countries were in turmoil, and I don't know how many people died because of it.

But for the commoners here, it's just 'the Pope is dead,' that's just a phrase.

Life should be lived or lived.

Even if the storm is coming.

When midnight arrives, the atmosphere in the tavern is pushed to its peak.

Amid the frenzied shouts and roars of all the spectators, the pink lights became ambiguous and dimmed.

In the dim light, a dancer dressed in tulle stepped onto the stage and writhed on a steel pole to the ambiguous and tumultuous music.

The dancer wore heavy makeup to hide the yellow spots and wrinkles on her face, and as she writhed, she caressed herself, moaning seductively, her flabby thighs shaking, shedding a piece of the tulle off her body, revealing a faint spring light.

"Take it off again!"

The audience shouted, but the dancers didn't hear it, just hugged the steel pipe and twisted, moaning more and more seductively, and their eyes showed longing.

In a warm atmosphere, handfuls of money were sprinkled on the stage.

The dancer's smile became brighter and brighter, and she took off the scarf on her shoulder again and threw it in the air, revealing a half-hidden ****, dancing in the pungent and humid air in the waves.

Behind the bar, the boss silently counted the money and smiled.

After martial law for so many days, after reopening, the group of suffocated poor ghosts finally let him get some money back.

He quietly gestured to the dancers: don't take them off too fast, hang them.

Let them pay for it!

Pay!

"Take it off again!"

The audience excitedly shouted, "Take it off again!"

Crumpled banknotes and copper plates were thrown onto the table, plopping down in a thin layer. When the dancer steps on the sweat-soaked money, twists her body, and sucks her fingers, her eyes are like silk.

The boss happily closed his mouth and waved his hand frantically: "Work harder! Take out the trick! Squeeze all the money of this group of poor people out of me!"

So, the last skirt that was in the way finally opened a small gap.

The audience's roar became more and more noisy, and the dancer picked up the light skirt with her tail finger and wiped it over her body, so the tulle was soaked in a layer of sweat, ****.

The eyes of the hungry audience were straight.

The dancer's body squirmed, moaned ambiguously, and lifted her skirt:

"Who wants?"

In an instant, there was silence in the bar for a moment, and the next, an explosion.

Everyone rushed to the front of the stage, reaching out to grab the dress with the smell and sweat of the dancer, and their eyes were red.

"Five hundred!"

A short, thin man screamed, "I'll give five hundred! No one is allowed to rob me!"

"Seven hundred!"

The shirtless strong man got up and slapped the table: "I'm out of eight hundred!"

"My! my!"

A sharp voice sounded, and the bald old man jumped on the stage: "No one is allowed to rob me!

The bald old man was obviously drunk, slurred speech, and his old arms and legs twitched excitedly, like an old monkey.

When the rest of the audience saw this, they couldn't help but laugh.

"This guest, would you like to buy this dress?"

The bartender walked over, smiled, and looked.

The old man wore a religious robe, but it was not uncommon for the holy city to be dressed like this because of the clergy. What's more, the robe is tattered, but it can be toppled like this, I don't know where the ghost of the country came from.

The old man didn't know how long it had been since he had taken a bath, and there was a foul smell of drunken vomiting on his body, which made people cover their noses.

"It costs money to want to. ”

The bartender asked, "Do you have any money?"

"Money?"

The old man reacted for a long time, and suddenly smiled: "If you want money, you will say it earlier! Give it to you, and give it to you." ”

He grabbed a handful of crumpled paper from his pocket, shoved it into the bartender's hand, and snatched the dancer's skirt from it.

The bartender was stunned for a moment, didn't react, and his expression became ugly: This old guy wants to make trouble?

But when he looked down at the waste paper in his hand, he couldn't help but feel that his eyes were dark, he gasped, his legs were weak, and he almost knelt on the ground.

Draft!

It was a bill of exchange issued by the Holy City Order! And each one was the largest denomination, and he couldn't count the number behind it at a glance......

I don't know how many money orders there are in that crumpled pile of waste paper, but even if there is only one, it will be enough to buy this bar and burn it, and then find the best killer to kill this group of poor people in the bar back and forth five or six times!

Taking advantage of the fact that no one else was paying attention, the bartender stuffed the thing into his arms, turned around and ran out.

"What's wrong?"

The boss looked at his pale face and frowned: "Son, that bastard old man won't give you a pack of ****, right?"

"I wish he could give me a pack of ****. The bartender laughed more ugly than crying, and showed the things in his arms to the boss, who was stunned for a long time, gasped, and sat on the ground: "My mom!"

He was stunned for a long time, and when he turned around, he saw the old man on the stage entangled like a monkey beside the dancer, writhing unbearably, and in the boos of the audience, the drunken old man actually put his skirt on himself and danced in the same way.

The action was so funny that everyone couldn't help laughing, and some people who liked to do things threw their money on the stage and shouted:

"Nice and good, jump and jump again!"

"Did he really give it?" the boss asked in a low voice.

"It's true. ”

After the boss was silent for a moment, his eyes narrowed: "He must still have it in his pocket, let the people in the back kitchen prepare it and tie up the old monkey for me." Keep your hands and feet clean and don't leave anything to finish. ”

The bartender was stunned: "Are you sure? What kind of nobleman is that old man...... Aren't we dead?"

"You're stupid. ”

The boss gave him a slap in the face and whispered, "After this ticket, we will go out of the city at dawn, with so much money, where can't we go?"

"You can't go anywhere. ”

A hoarse old voice rang out.

The boss was stunned, looked up in astonishment, and saw the indifferent old man outside the counter.

The man was dressed in a black gown, of fine fabric, with lapsed gold cuffs, a bow tie and pocket pockets, and he still looked awe-inspiring even though he was so old.

But no matter what, he shouldn't have been in such a place at all.

Before the boss could react, the old man waved his hand, and two people took down the boss and the bartender without a trace and took them away.

The bar was still noisy, and in the cacophony and cacophony, no one noticed that the two men had disappeared.

Feeling the hot and humid air, the visitor frowned in displeasure, coughed hoarsely, and sat down in the corner.

Soon, the drunken old man on the stage who was still wearing a striptease dress was brought over and thrown on the chair opposite.

In this no-brainer, there was silence within the noise barrier.

"Wagner? ”

The old man looked at the person opposite, and after a long time, he breathed a sigh of relief, "I'm scared to death! I thought someone was going to rob me of my dress!"

Wagner subconsciously glanced at the foul-smelling skirt, and his expression suddenly became more and more ugly:

"Not long after His Majesty the Pope's death, Cardinal Albert, the archbishop of the Synodal Church and the head of the Central Church, has become so depraved and indecent, is it really good?"

"Relax, what's wrong?"

Wagner frowned: "There's nothing wrong with it, but if you want to relax, you will choose to be in the basement of your own house, with the dancers and slave girls you have raised."

No matter how bad it is, you can also go to some private clubs, close the doors, and play some games with the girls who have prepared them for yourself.

No one but you would choose to run into this kind of strip bar and steal public money to buy women's dresses to wear......"

He paused, and sighed helplessly:

"Don't you feel ashamed?"

"I'm not in a wheelchair like my ex *** what's there to be ashamed of?"

Albert said nonchalantly: "Besides, Archbishop Hawking told me when he retired!

- None of the people who like to wear skirts are bad people!"

“......”

Wagner's expression twitched, and he cursed in a low voice.

"However, I'm willing to fall and forget it, but what are you doing here?"

Albert smiled wryly and asked teasingly, "Wouldn't it be for striptease too?"

Wagner's face sank like water, and he said coldly:

"Today's Sistine Conference, you are absent, and the impact is very bad. ”

Sistine Council.

A meeting of all the cardinals and heads of key departments of the Holy See held in the Sistine Chapel. Since the creation of the Pope, it has been held ten times.

The timing of its events is not expected, as each event represents a ...... A pope has died, and a new pope will be chosen by a vote at the council.

No one has ever dared to be absent from such a meeting.

In previous years, there was even a dying archbishop who was sent in with a hanging needle, and even if he died, he had to vote before he could be allowed to die inside.

Albert, as the head of the Central Temple, had the right to vote and to be elected, but now he was blatantly absent.

It has to be said that a very bad precedent has been set.

But he didn't care.

"If I went to the show, the outcome would have been different? I'm not interested in this kind of pre-written drama. ”

He glanced at Wagner: "You went to participate, but what was the result?"

"What else?"

Wagner said coldly: "Fools can guess."

More than eighty percent approve of Ludovic becoming the new pope. With the witness of God and the Holy Spirit, the vote has passed, and now the urgent proclamation has been sent to the nations, right?"

He was silent for a moment and told Albert:

"Tomorrow at dawn, everyone will know that in two days Ludovic will enter the Temple of Saloman, meet the Holy Cauldron and become the new Pope. ”

"So, Ludovic is going to be developed?"

Albert laughed drunkenly: "It's a pity that I didn't get the sycophants of the Single-minded Monks sooner, oops, it's a pity." ”

"Over the years, you've had a lot of trouble with the Monk Society. Now you want to change your course? You don't even know how to write the phrase 'see the wind and steer the rudder.' ”

Wagner scoffed: "In this case, the Central Temple is responsible. They're worried that they don't have enough of the critical positions at hand, and they don't have a reason to do anything to you.

Even if you go to please them now, it's too late.

Get ready to be relegated to a monastery in the wilderness of the mountains and mountains to spend your old age in peace. ”

"It doesn't matter, it's no fun to stay in the Holy City anyway. ”

Albert shrugged his shoulders and glanced at him, "What about you?"

“......”

Wagner was silent for a long time before replying, "I guess I'll go to the dark world."

In three years, I'm going to die. Before you die, you should at least use a little residual heat. Over the years, Mr. Bach has worked too hard to support himself. ”

"Isn't that great?"

Albert smiled: "I went to a convent in the backwoods, you were banished to the dark world, we all have a bright future!

"Don't talk about that, drink a bar. ”

Wagner sighed, "Give me a drink too." ”

Albert raised his glass: "To our great Pope, then." ”

"To whom?"

"Whichever one is you. Anyway, which **** is the same. ”

"Well, Your Majesty the Pope. ”

Wagner smiled wryly, "Cheers!"

Drink it all.

After the glass was lowered, Wagner was so stabbed by the inferior alcohol that he couldn't help but inhale heavily, and then he coughed violently, coughing heartbreakingly, vomiting sticky phlegm, but he couldn't breathe.

The air here is so bad that it stimulates his asthma and lung disease.

Albert shook his head, got up, skilfully pulled the respirator out of his chest pocket, pried open his teeth, and brutally shoved it into his mouth:

"Suck!"

Soon, Wagner finally relented, slumped in his chair, choking tears and snot on his face, and lost his demeanor.

Albert shook his head and drank wine to himself: "You have been like this since you were a child, weak and weak, if you want to take you to the depravity, you have to worry that you will die immediately, can you save some heart?"

"I'm dying anyway, so I don't need to worry about it anymore. ”

Wagner wiped the stains off his face, smiled indifferently, and got up:

"I'll go first. ”

"Well, get out of here. ”

Albert waved his hand impatiently: "I'm too lazy to wait for you to leave before giving you away, that cup just now should be your farewell." ”

Wagner smiled and didn't say anything more, just patted Albert on the shoulder and turned away. But when he walked to the door, he heard a hoarse voice from behind him.

"Hey, Wagner!"

"Huh?"

Wagner looked back and saw Albert.

The old man sat in the dim light, his white hair thinning, smirking, looking at himself with a drunken look in his eyes. For some reason, Wagner suddenly felt a little sad.

"My dress, does it look good?"

Albert asked suddenly, looking expectant, as if he wanted to be praised.

“......”

Wagner's expression froze, and he turned around in annoyance and shook his hand away: "Mom, I'm retarded!"

Leave Albert alone in the bar, laughing.

Laughing like a retard.

-

Don't worry, don't be abusive, I'll give you the whole big news tomorrow. (To be continued.) )