The Count of Neulay sat down in the guest seat, boredly turning the silver fork in his hand,

He had come here to ensure the safety of the Imperial Family, but when he entered the venue, he found that he had nothing to do, and all security matters were properly arranged.

The emperor to whom he was loyal was being interviewed by a reporter from the local newspaper, and there was a large number of royal forbidden troops around him, and there was no need for him, the generalissimo of the court, to act as a personal escort for a while.

The food on the table in front of him was too delicate to suit his rough, ranger appetite,

Neulai was an upright man, with unquestionable loyalty to the country and the nation, and was willing to give everything for this great cause. He is like a fiery temper, and he is known in Valstad, unhappy with the extravagance of aristocratic circles, and loves to mingle in the neighborhoods, and it would be best if he could find fault with the drunks.

At this time, there were several Solan ladies sitting beside him, these bloated ladies were really vulgar, comparing the cost of jewelry boxes and cosmetics with each other, talking about the gossip and gossip of the upper class, and chattering endlessly, so annoyed that Neulai wanted to plug his ears, and began to complain to himself:

"...... A group of Solan fat...... Annoying people who are chattering. He fiddled with the food on his plate with his fork, but could not find what he was looking for:

"Tut-tut...... The small snack on this small plate has a creamy patch the size of a garlic clove, and the matcha cake tastes terribly sweet. The wine is too soft, it tastes boring, the taste of the Solan nobles is really hopeless, the boring art festival, I would not have come if I knew it. ”

Suddenly, someone gently stabbed him in the back with an elbow, and when he looked back, it turned out to be Dali Ainfurt, the prime minister of the empire.

"Brother Dali, why didn't you accompany His Majesty to entertain reporters, why did you come to me?"

"What, I'm not welcome? Then I'm leaving. ”

"Come on, let's sit here and have a drink."

Neulai tugged at the prime minister's cuffs: "It's a pity that this wine is almost meaningful, probably to take care of the lady, and all that is sent is some sweet champagne with almost no alcohol." ”

"It doesn't matter, just drink some of it." Dali Ainfurt sat next to his old friend: "Neulai, I see that you have been talking to yourself, you must be bored." ”

"Hey! Not really! It's boring to death! Neulai slapped the table, causing the lady beside her to scream.

"The bastards of the Voodoo cult are cowering in turtle shells and dare not come out, and the troops also need to rest, there is no battle to fight for the time being, and there is no fun to find."

At this time, King Ingram Lafalit I of Solan took the podium and began to speak, giving a speech for the festival;

The speech was apparently written for him by a civilian official, and the king read it staggeringly, and there were always moments of awkward silence because he had forgotten how to pronounce the words, a fat face dripping with sweat, and occasionally reaching out to scratch the fat at the back of his neck.

"Fuck, look at this retarded thing, it's better to choose a blacksmith to be a king than this kid!"

With that, Neulai covered his beard with his hand and scratched the back of his neck in the same way as King Solan, and every time the king made a movement, he followed it in a funny way, making the ladies around him laugh with their mouths covered.

"Neulai, you're such a good comedian." Dali commented.

"Who's to say it isn't, maybe I should take off this military uniform, put on a colorful costume, and put on oil paint makeup to be a clown."

King Ingram finally finished reading the manuscript, and even the applause from the audience looked embarrassed, and the king exhaled as if relieved, and twisted his fat body to walk back to his table,

But lacking exercise, his short and thick calves tripped on the stairs, and he fell out, but fortunately, the royal attendant quickly held on to him, so that the king did not continue to look foreign.

Neulai spread his hands: "Don't go, there's no fun to find now!" ”

"Let's go, there are still a lot of cumbersome matters in the future, so let Leopold accompany His Majesty to deal with it."

Dali picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth: "It's rare to have free time, let's go around the city and eat something that can really be eaten." ”

"Great, I'm so tired of this art festival, I have to find a place to eat without the constraints of red tape."

"Don't follow the entourage?"

"Of course not, let's go on horseback with my two brothers, and I'll get two sets of loose coats to cover my clothes, and the kind with hoods, so as not to be recognized."

The two quietly left the lively art festival venue, found the Imperial Forbidden Army troops on the periphery, and borrowed two horses to ride.

After the war, the city was in dire straits, and for safety, Dalí wanted to take the avenue to find a normal restaurant, but Neulay insisted on going to the slum neighborhoods of the lower city.

The deep and winding alleys are like tree roots, intertwined in the huge city,

Occasionally, you can see the gendarmes of the Kingdom and the Imperial Army on joint law enforcement patrols, and the roadside is full of low, dilapidated buildings, the walls are cracked and peeling, and the deeper you go into the alleys, the more dilapidated the scene becomes.

Poorer locals live in shacks, local street thugs squatting on the side of the road, their faces covered with bruises from the brawl, knives pinned to their waists, shoddy cigarettes in their hands, and they look at strangers on horseback, wearing hoods, and contemplating how to rob and extort money.

You can feel the hungry, jealous, and ill-intentioned gazes all around you.

Dalí checked his pistol and saber to make sure he could use them at any time for self-defense,

The Count of Neulay, on the other hand, did not seem to care too much, for he had been accustomed to a wandering life in his early years, and this chaotic slum was his paradise.

The slums of St. Farals are dotted with countless taverns, and the two soon find one they like, at the end of the "muddy block".

The sign made of broken wooden planks is painted with crooked lettering: "Big Mouse Tavern".

The reason for the name is obvious, as there are a number of stalls selling roast rat meat next to the tavern, which is the main way the poor people in the slums eat meat.

The filthy sewer network feeds countless huge fat rats, and the locals skin and wash these filthy animals, remove their internal organs, and roast them on bamboo skewers.

The oozing grease from the rat meat dripped onto the charcoal with an enticing, sizzling sound.

Neulai poked his nose out of his hood and sniffed, saying, "This smells amazing!" Let's go in and have a few drinks, and then eat a few skewers of this. ”

Dali swallowed: "Uh...... Is this thing hygienic? Are you sure you won't have diarrhea? ”

"It's all meat, there's no difference, it's just a psychological effect, this is not a four-ripe bloody steak, you see, it's thoroughly cooked, it's burnt in some places, there's nothing wrong with it."