Abrostet "convinced" Namen, and they decided to put aside their old suspicions and engage in a "close" collaboration.

As a constraint, they took out a magical contract.

"We'll both benefit from it," the gnome investigator said to Nammon—but he didn't know that mortals would be foolish in their dreams when they signed a contract with a contract demon.

Naturally, after a symbolic moment's hesitation, Namen signed his "great name" on the contract.

For the contract demon, as long as the handwriting is changed slightly, even if the real name is signed on the contract, there are still big loopholes in that contract.

It can be successfully contracted, but it cannot be executed.

With this false "foothold", even if the terms of the contract were still tight, Namen could still easily find some profitable loopholes in it.

Moreover, he soon got his first "unexpected joy": the guy who had been described only by generic terms such as "mercenary captain", "tall strong man", and "electric monk" due to lack of relevant information, signed his real name on the contract.

Okun Pfister, which means "oak fist". Judging by the name, this man should have been from the eastern city-state of Ramsay. It is also consistent with the background of most of the members of the mercenary group he led.

The completed magical contract stipulated that Oak Fist would find the exact location of the Soul Suppressor within three days, and that if Namen managed to emerge from the tomb, he and Abrost would have to take him out of the city.

Neither of these requirements required them to enter the dangerous tomb of the robber, and it seemed relatively safe. In reality, however, it's not that simple.

Otherwise, Namen would not have agreed to accept their "help" while also sharing half of his commission on the task.

If Oak Fist and the gnomes can really do what they promise, then this partnership is simply worth the price.

After dinner and a contract was signed, the gnomes and the electric monk invited Namen to live in the tent they had prepared.

Not only was a mercenary group ambushed beneath the sandbank, but a makeshift stronghold was dug up, and the men used the rectangular pressure-resistant inflatable tents produced on Dwarf Island to build a warm and sheltered shelter for themselves.

"I know King's Landing better than the best 'street guys' you can find," the last thing Namen heard before resting was Oak Fist's assurance. "Expect," Namen replied simply.

For the next few days, they camped near the sand bank. Occasionally, a few mercenaries, dressed in disguise, would walk a few leagues away on the official road and follow the main road to King's Landing to buy some food.

Eventually, Namen looked like his patience was running out. He constantly tells the gnomes and electric monks that those "accomplices" who have lost contact with each other for a long time can become dangerous variables. And the other party just comforted him, "A good meal is not afraid of being late, wait a minute." ”

Seven full days had passed, and it wasn't until the bruises on Namen's body that had been forged and had been bruised from the tavern brawl had completely dissipated that Oak Fist announced to him the good news, "I have found the exact location of the Soul Suppression Crypt and can proceed today." ”

However, the electric monk immediately asked Namen to forgive him, "It takes your cooperation to sneak into that place." ”

......

It's funny, Namen thought to herself, there are a lot of things that you have to go to a prison cell to do. The guards looked at each other and laughed, then slammed the door of their cells shut.

Namen stood up, patted the dust off his body, and moved his shoulder. Because Oak Fist gave him a punch, there was still some soreness there.

"The human body is fragile," the Leviathanized contract demon grumbled inwardly, but he quickly adjusted his mind.

He began to look at the scene in the cell, the lower part of the cell door was a solid wooden door, and the upper part was an iron bar. He could see three guards opening his large duffel bag and inspecting or looting his belongings.

One of them noticed his gaze. It was a short, fierce-looking guy with a shaved head and a tattoo on his neck indicating his identity.

"The jailer from O-sang Naoetsu," Namen thought to himself. The cell was dimly lit, and the dirty uniforms on the men could barely be seen to be the yellow and blue colors that were characteristic of King's Landing's cell management.

The little jailer walked slowly to the cell door, leaving his companions to play with Namen's belongings. "I heard you're fighting hard," the man said, looking Namen up and down. Namen did not answer.

"The bartender at the Prancing Horse Tavern said you put down almost twenty," the jailer rubbed his chin, "I don't think you're anything remarkable." Either way, you should think it through before you come back and continue to make trouble. Others will only spend a few nights in a cell or be whipped a few times. But you ...... Fools who dare to make trouble in the 'devil's stomach' and attempt to murder Mr. Cullian will be put on the gallows. ”

Namen turned. This cell is quite functional, just lacking in creativity. One wall has a slender light opening at the top, a damp stone wall crawling with moss, and a pile of rotten, dirty straw in the corner.

It was once a labor camp dormitory, but it was later converted into a prison in King's Landing. Originally, the guards here were all desert elf warriors and camel warriors, but now they have been changed to jailers transferred from Naoetsu - there is a specialization in the art industry.

"Hey, look," said one of the jailers who was rummaging through his duffel bag, "what is this?" "The people who guard the dungeons are often just as bad, if not worse, than the people they guard.

Namen was unimpressed by this phenomenon.

After all, the Scales Chamber of Commerce of the Eternal Order didn't care if such people were locked up in prison or kept out of prison. It is enough to let them do their best and stay away from decent people who work hard.

In fact, with the power of the Chamber of Commerce, it is completely possible to find some demons from the lower realms to serve as guards. But that's just a waste of resources, especially in the current situation.

A jailer took out a slender object wrapped in white linen from Namen's duffel bag. The man unfolded the package and whistled: it was a thin-edged sword in a silver scabbard, the hilt of which was made of black black jade.

"Who do you think he stole from?" the short jailer glanced at Namen, as if to wonder if he was a nobleman from another city-state. Although King's Landing did not have an aristocracy, many of the neighboring city-states had nobles and noblewomen.

But what aristocratic lord would wear such a hazel cloak? what aristocratic lord would deign to participate in a bar brawl, and more than once, not to mention the stubble on Namen's face that smelled of sour beer instead of the smell of fancy liquor, and on his feet were a pair of canvas rubber-soled boots that only adventurers wear.

"Let me see," said the little man, who was evidently the chief of several U-sang jailers, for the other jailer had given him the magnificent sword.

Taking the sword, he muttered, apparently frightened by its weight. He flipped the blade of his sword and noticed the clasp that fastened the scabbard to the hilt to prevent it from being unsheathed.

He untied it.

"Be careful, that sword is dangerous," Namen whispered with a smile. The head of the jailer glanced up at him, and the surroundings fell silent for a moment. The man snorted and made a cryptic gesture.

A few of the jailers tossed into their duffel bags some worthless things—the single-edged axe, some gem coins that could only be circulated in other city-states, and a few pieces of thin paper with ghostly talismans on them.

The duffel bag was left in the corner of the dungeon.

The magnificent sword, along with some King's Landing bills, was held by them where everyone could see them. Several jailers walked to a nearby jailer's lounge and slammed the door shut.

Namen shrugged his shoulders and waited for the show to begin.