Between the old town and the docklands, a stone bridge spans an abandoned drain, revealing a damp muddy bottom layer.

This huge drainway is crowded with low shacks, and all kinds of people bustle in the dim light, and the sounds of selling and bargaining are endless.

"Grey Water Ditch", as it is called, its original name has long been dusted on the old map of the city, and even the archons would have regarded it as nothing.

Grey ditches are pustules that grow in the slum between the dock area and the old town.

For a person like Lorraine, as long as the identity of the fugitive slave is not revealed, he is in the dark here.

No one cares about a passerby, just as no one is going to crack down on the black market here.

The thriving black market keeps the greywater ditch alive, nurturing the shadows of the gutter and providing a neutral place for the rats in the gutter.

Lorraine needed an identity, an identity as a freedman. It's not something that can be solved by bribing the sheriff.

Whether he is a fugitive slave or a murderer, the wanted notice about him is probably being printed and will be posted all over the city by tomorrow.

Not only does she need to forge her identity, but Lorraine also needs to disguise herself and make herself a different person.

He strode from stall to stall, his gaze sweeping over the dazzling array of goods.

It has to be said that St. Louis deserves to be the most prosperous port on the South Coast.

From petty theft to recyclables in the garbage heap, to counterfeit fakes, and a handful of rare items mixed in, it's all about gold panning.

Lorraine walked through several stalls and into the shadow of the bridge when he was suddenly grabbed by someone.

"Hmm...... You? The voice was as hoarse as the friction of a blade, "an abyssal breath ......"

The strong smell of rusty blood wafted to Lorraine's nose, and he subconsciously shook off the hand, wanting to draw his knife and turn around, but before that, a strangely shaped curved dagger had already pressed against his jaw.

Lorraine's pupils dilated slightly.

The owner of this dagger is extremely good at stealth, and if it weren't for the sudden holding of his hand, Lorraine would not have been aware of this person, let alone be vigilant.

Coupled with the swiftness of the shot, the tip of the knife in the throat made Lorraine decisively give up the desire to struggle recklessly.

"Take off your mask and let me see you, the Fallen? Or people. ”

The voice continued, but the owner of the blade had slowly moved to his side, and a heavy patent leather cloak came into view.

The leather armor under the cloak is very worn, indicating that the opponent is quite sluggish, and even the most basic armor cannot be prepared.

Lorraine tried to see the other man's face hidden in the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat, only to see a smooth chin and a tattoo that hooked up to his lips.

Although her voice was hoarse, her smooth neck still showed that she was a young woman.

"Dark Pilgrims?" Lorraine raised an eyebrow, he breathed a sigh of relief, and probably understood what was going on, "I think you misunderstood, open my bag and see what's inside." ”

After a moment of silence, the man padded the cloth bag behind Lorraine's waist, and the smell of rotting blood caused the dangerous dagger to leave Lorraine's jaw.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were a fallen."

The blade-like sound sounded again, and the other party had already retreated a few steps away, spreading out his empty hands, indicating that he was no longer hostile.

Although Lorraine didn't make much apology in this indifferent tone, he was at least relieved, because in just a few seconds, the man in front of him was really going to kill him.

Seeing that the two didn't collide with any sparks, the well-wishers around who wanted to watch the play were bored and gradually dispersed back into the crowd.

"The Fallen don't easily appear in crowded places, unless an area is already deeply affected," Lorraine cupped his mask, "You should go to the slums." ”

"I'm waiting for my companion,"

In the shadow of the wide-brimmed hat, a pair of purple eyes looked at Lorraine.

"Slum ...... Where does your prey come from? ”

"Yes."

That was said, but Lorraine's eyes narrowed.

St. Louis at this time, the ...... of the dark pilgrims Companion?

A fragment from "Amber" came to mind, and Lorraine's eyes couldn't help but become sympathetic.

"Dark Pilgrim" is a loosely organized designation, similar to Lorraine's status as a "fugitive", rather than a rank.

These mystical hunters are rarely involved in worldly affairs, and are devoted to hunting for all signs of the abyss, from life to death.

They are especially interested in the nodules that grow in the abyss.

The patent leather cape is their trademark. These feathers originate from the Frost Wood Frog of the Winter Continent, and they are secret materials that can resist the erosion of a certain abyss, and can also counteract the impact of some magical power.

But as a matter of common sense, dark pilgrims should not be so downcast.

She was waiting for her companion.

If I'm not mistaken, at this point in time, Kane the "Blood Eater" should have just fallen.

The pilgrim lost his way in the intricate labyrinth of sewers, and after the supplies he carried were depleted, his will gradually collapsed, and finally fell into a deep sleep in the breath of corruption.

As a rookie killer deep in the sewers, the "Blood Eater" Kane has reached a terrifying level 8, and his second-stage madness is approaching the peak of the first order of level 10.

…… Very dangerous.

Lorraine didn't want to get involved.

"You give me a strange feeling," the pilgrim muttered for a moment, "you...... Have you seen other pilgrims? ”

There was a hint of urgency in the hoarse voice.

Lorraine shook her head.

"Sorry, not rene," he replied calmly, "you can go to the Hunter's Tavern, where the informants are well informed. ”

He glanced at the pilgrim, and instead of dwelling on the other party, he tightened the bag containing the human head and walked briskly in the direction of the hunter's tavern.

Nothing else happened on the road. When Lorraine pushed open the door to the tavern, he was relieved by the noise inside.

The strong smell of sweat, alcohol, and blood mixed with a long-lost time reminded him of himself many years ago, a game that had not yet come out.

At that time, he also spent his days hanging out at the Hunter's Tavern. Although there are many fish and dragons here, there are often people from the big guild to recruit excellent seeds, and it is the most stable place in Gray Water Valley.

"Have a glass of the cheapest wine,"

The tavern owner behind the counter was accustomed to down-and-out adventurers, but instead of a coin, he saw a bloody cloth bag.

Blood seeped out of the rags, and when it was dropped on the counter, a trail of blood was smashed.

"What do you mean?" He reached for the axe under the counter and stared warily at the visitor in front of him.

"This is the head of a degenerate, and I want to publish a clue about him."

Lorraine gripped the dagger that had fallen out of her sleeve and sliced open the bag, revealing Karn's hideous face.

"This man's name is Karn, a thug of the Greyfangs, and he's just a mortal, and this gang either has a supply of the blood of the beast or a cult."

"In any case, there is a degenerate from a bottom force...... We all know that, don't we? When you see a cockroach, it means that they can't hide it anymore. ”

The tavernkeeper's vigilance slackened slightly, and he lowered his axe, but was still reluctant to touch the man's head.

The publication of this news will affect the tavern's neutral status in any case. But obviously, the person in front of him was not specifically looking for him to make announcements.

The boss glanced at the bustling crowd of the tavern, some of whom had sensed the strange atmosphere and were secretly watching, while others stood up when they heard the word "Fallen", indicating that these people had unusual perceptions.

On top of that, drinkers are still partying.

After all, most of the people here are down-and-out adventurers and hooligans, and most of them have not climbed to level 5.

Not to mention dealing with the Fallen, it was impossible to notice Lorraine's words from the noise, and Lorraine naturally didn't expect these people to beat the Greyfangs.

And those who stand up may be like dark pilgrims, hunting the abyss for a living, or they may have the strength to just need a life in the city.

Yes, extra money.

Each Imperial City has a long-term bounty for the Fallen, which can be expensive.

"You can go to the Adventurers' Guild, in the Old Town," the tavernkeeper frowned, "and not in my place." ”

But identity verification is required there, and Lorraine is still a fugitive slave, and it is impossible to go to the door of the forces with official support behind him.

But he also won't tell the tavernkeeper the truth, his purpose in coming to the Hunter's Tavern is simple, as he told the pilgrims, it's well-informed, and many adventurers' casual words can be interesting information.

In their spare time, the speculators who rely on this line of food love to "stock up" here. Whether it's the mouth for buying and selling news, or the ear for eavesdropping, there's it all here.

It won't be long before this news will be verified by the Adventurers' Guild, and even tomorrow morning, the Greyfang Gang will be turned into rats that everyone shouts about.

"Do you still have to pay?"

"No need."

"Okay, open me a room that night, the cheapest, just sleep. By the way, do you want this head, sell you ten silver, and the sheriff should charge it higher. ”

"If you want it, I will deduct a silver from you as room fee," the boss shook his head angrily, "I can really save it." ”

"Thank you, by the way," Lorraine thought as he picked up his glass before leaving, "Is there a shop selling alchemical potions nearby?" ”

He couldn't have been wearing a mask all the time.

But if you take it off, you may be found to be a wanted fugitive slave.

"Recently, an alchemist who is dying of starvation has often come, you wait for tomorrow, if he doesn't come, go to the corpse collector, he should be dead."

Lorraine nodded, and he left the counter with his glass, but before he could find a seat, he saw the pilgrim woman in the corner of the tavern.

He glanced at the other, who was sitting alone, as if she had only been here for a short time, and there were people around who were curiously looking at the strange man's patent leather cloak.

Lorraine wanted to find another seat, but a plate on the pilgrim's table caught his attention.

In that plate, there is a ...... Looking past the crowd of drinkers, Lorraine slowly approached to see more clearly.

Bloody, it was a heart, it could belong to a pig, or it could come from a human.