He stepped out of his chair, came to the young man, and stopped him. Then Siegel crouched down, picked up the shackles with his hands, and looked at them carefully.

Identical to the shackles that orcs bound slaves, he could also see the words "slave labor" engraved on them in both lingua franca and orc languages.

Siegel was half-crouched, exactly as tall as the boy. He looked into the boy's eyes and asked, "What's your name, why are you being tied up?"

"My name is No. 2, just call me Little Er. The young man looked evasive, and seemed to be afraid of Siegel. He didn't want Siegel to touch him, so after answering the question, he took two steps back, hurried away, and then picked up a rag to clean up Siegel's table.

Seegal watched him run away, and always felt that the back of his actions was somewhat familiar. Maybe it's because they're just as frightened and miserable as they were on the slave ships. He straightened up, went to the bar, tapped his hand on the countertop, called the listless boss, and asked him, "What's the matter with that boy?"

The boss blinked, showed a sly smile, and said, "Guest, what do you want to drink?" You can feel free to ask questions here, and no one will disturb you. And if you're willing to pay, I can help you find out. ”

"Waterdeep can't keep slaves, that's one of the local laws. "Siegel didn't pay attention to the boss's words at all, he didn't want information, he just wanted results. So he said directly: "That young man can't be bound to work in a slave's anklet, you have to set him free." ”

"Ha, this lord, I don't know which corner you jumped out of, you've read too many knight novels, right?" The boss said viciously as he put away the cups on the counter and said, "I advise you not to meddle here!"

Siegel can tell what is really vicious and what is bluffing. The owner of the tavern was one of the latter, and there was always a wavering hesitation in his gaze. But with his words, several dark figures stood in the corner, all of them wearing wide cloaks, and under the cloaks were weapons of varying lengths. Three people surrounded him from behind and stood next to Siegel. Among them was a tall, turban-clad pockmarked face staring at Siegel with a gloomy gaze. He was the first to open his mouth and said: "Stranger, the boss said that you should not be nosy, you should stay away from idle things! The rippling moonlight does not welcome people like you who are making trouble, this is a peaceful place, so get out of here quickly." ”

The other two, one fat and short, the other tall and thin, clenched their fists and rattled their knuckles.

Siegel put his hand on the hilt of the sword, and then stared at the tavern owner, "The use of slaves will incur the punishment of exile at least, and someone will always take care of this matter." ”

But the boss dodged his eyes and asked the three for help.

"Yo-heh! How many years haven't you met a stupid knight here?" Mazi plucked her ears and yelled, "MD, don't you want to live?"

Siegel turned his head to look at the three of them, and asked in a calm tone, "It seems that you are in charge here?"

"What's the matter!" pockmarked yelled, reaching out for Siegel. He tried to hold his shoulder, but his fingers slid insidiously down his neck, ready to pick at Siegel's throat. Sack's other hand reached for Siegel's waist, trying to stop him from drawing his sword.

Not to be outdone, Siegel shook his shoulders and used his spin to break free of Sackface's hand while kicking him hard in the heel, causing the latter to lose his balance and fall to the bar. Siegel unsheathed his knife and slammed the dagger into his chest with the hilt. The dagger flew up to the ceiling and thudged in.

All the guests watched all this with great interest, and some even raised their glasses, hoping that this "performance" would be more exciting. Only the women who accompanied the drink, screaming hysterically and with shrill voices, fled through the gate. The hotel owner trembled and hurriedly stepped back. But there was a wall behind him, so he had nowhere to run, so he huddled up on the ground.

The scimitar is like the moonlight of early autumn, bright and bright, leaving a perfect arc in the air. The tall, thin man had four fingers cut off, blood was flying in the sky, and he couldn't use a dagger anymore. He also screamed like a woman, looking at his severed finger at a loss.

Humpty Dumpty pounced, stick in hand. The stick was tied to his wrist with a leather strap and inlaid with round spikes, and it was covered in blood—his favorite thing about it was to hit people on the stomach and then watch them vomit blood, which gave him great satisfaction. Siegel swings his knife from the bottom up, forcing Humpty Dumpty to block with his stick. However, the shoddy weapons were so different from the dwarves' exquisite craftsmanship that the sticks were cut in two. Before the fat man could react, the sharp scimitar was placed around his neck.

Asako barely stood up with his hands on the bar, and he pulled out his short sword from his waist, trying to launch a surprise attack from behind. Siegel kept an eye on him, drawing the dagger with his free hand while taking care of the battle in both directions.

The dagger silently slammed into the blade of the dagger, and then slashed the dagger in two like a hot knife slicing through butter. This dagger is so sharp that it cuts off anything it touches. Siegel didn't want to kill people for the time being, so he didn't use a dagger, so he could only slam his fist on the bridge of Pockface's nose.

"You! you're ......," Mazi yelled.

Siegel punched up again, another punch, and then a fourth. The bridge of the nose of the pockmarked face is powdery, and the blood is flowing. His eyes turned to the middle, he lost consciousness, and slipped on the floor without saying a word.

Siegel thrust the dagger back into his waist and struck the tall, skinny man in the chin with a hard uppercut, telling him to stop screaming with his severed finger, knocking him unconscious. Humpty Dumpty, who was held to his neck by a scimitar, trembled, and his face was full of fear.

"Okay, now can we talk?" said Siegel, "I'm going to slowly put the knife back in its scabbard now, and if there's any more threatening move, the knife will cut into the neck, understand?"

The fat man nodded, raising his hands high. Siegel wiped the scimitar from his clothes, wiped the blood away, and then sheathed it. "Okay, now we can talk about the use of slaves, shall we?"

Humpty Dumpty hurriedly pointed at the moonlit boss with his eyes and said, "It's okay with us, he knows." ”

The boss was still lying on the ground behind the bar, but was picked up by Siegel. He looked at the tavern - all the customers were drinking and talking to themselves, and no one wanted to bother with it. The people who come here are very realistic guys, who never do things that are not beneficial, and who hide away from things that are troublesome. And if no one reports it, the City Watch won't pay attention to what happens here, which is already the norm in the rippling moonlight - in fact, the boss still wants someone to rescue him. It is precisely because of this kind of three things that the boss dares to leave a small slave to work, obedient and can save a lot of money. Until I met a nosy "knight-sama", which was completely different from the style here.

"I assure you, my lord, that this slave is not mine. The tavern keeper hurriedly shook his head: "A merchant has been here - of course I'm not sure if he's a real merchant, maybe a slave trader - yes, a slave trader came here and stayed here for a week, very stingy fellow." He went away without a word, and then he left behind such a little slave, ugly and smelly. He still owes me five silver coins in rent, so I let this guy's slave work to pay it back. I'm going to let him go when he's done! I swear!"

Siegel suddenly reached out to the tavernkeeper and said sharply, "Give me the shackle key!"

The boss subconsciously touched his lower back, and then stopped. He raised his eyelids to look at Siegel and smiled awkwardly, "This key was placed in the upstairs room, and the slave trader left it, but it wasn't mine." ”

"So he's done with the work of 5 silver coins?"

"Of course, he just finished it. ”

Siegel took the key, walked over to the emaciated boy, crouched down, and opened his shackles. The boy looked around nervously, his ankles were full of wounds, and the layers of scabs had been worn thick and shocking.

The shackles fell to the floor with a crisp sound. The boy froze for a moment, then turned around and ran. Siegel grabbed it and said to him, "You can't go like this now. ”

The boy's face was a mixture of bewilderment and pain, and when he heard this, all his strength softened as if it had been drained. Siegel understood what he was thinking, and simply explained, "Don't run around, at least wait for the wound to heal and recover." If you go out like this, you're likely to get caught again. If you have family or a place you want to go, I'll give you the money to go back, trust me, okay?"

"Yes, yes, this is an upright lord......" the tavern owner quickly chimed in.

"What's your name?" Siegel asked.

"Jack, that's my name. He replied, "Will you protect and help me?"

"Yes. Siegel stood up, but kept holding his hand. At this time, he saw Bucktooth Genesis walk into the tavern with a handsome young man. The man had silky and curly hair, large blue eyes, and a tear-stained scar at the corner of his eye, which just added some vicissitudes to his handsome face. The man was wearing a white silk shirt with three buttons open on it, revealing heavy chest hair. He wore thin, short underpants, belted as he went, and smelled of cheap perfume - especially evident in this fishy tavern. Presumably this is the troubadour named Ariel.