Interpersonal relationships are a kind of resource, and it is precisely because it is impossible for a person to master the knowledge and ability of the world, so it is necessary to meet people who can make up for their own shortcomings.

It has been argued that a person can get to know anyone in this world only through the connected interpersonal relationship of "friends of friends". Maybe the world is not so small, but through the relationship of "friends", the interpersonal relationship of acquaintance will expand to an infinite extent.

The teenager may not have thought of such a complex theory of interpersonal relationships, but he can still think of a little bit of how to make effective use of existing interpersonal relationships. If Curt can't accept his commission as a law-abiding mercenary, he doesn't necessarily know who he can accept.

The terms of the deal he proposed were simpler, he didn't need Curt to complete his commission himself, he just wanted to use his connections to meet the people who could and were willing to kill the black-clad mage. In exchange, he could give what he had.

The boy's offer was just a blank check, and in fact, Curt didn't need the boy to do anything for him. As a young man, he does have a huge possibility, but there is no way to make it a suitable price tag - at least not enough for now.

However, he hasn't fallen into the eye of money yet, and although the boy can't offer a suitable price now, Curt doesn't mind helping him in this regard. So after a brief phone call, he took the boy and Lizzie and began to go to the location of a person who met the requirements.

Curt yawned lazily as he staggered down the street. He watched as black motor vehicles appeared in the night with their shining night lights. Drift down the street, from the east side of the Lutias Road to the west, and then disappear into the darkness of the distance.

"If it's to adapt to the times...... Is it necessary to learn to drive a motor vehicle at the same time?" leisurely looked at the motor vehicle that had passed away. Curt suddenly said, "It seems to have become popular in middle-class homes lately, and it seems to be quite convenient." ”

Just a few minutes before midnight, the group of three arrived at Almuz Street in the Old Town.

It's an old neighborhood, and although it's not as good as the slums, it's also an area where the low-income class live. Each building is low, and the street lights are mostly off. The fire hydrant on the side of the road is out of order. The continuous outflow of water caused a large puddle in the cracked concrete pavement.

"You just have to keep the idea in your head. ”

Lizzie shrugged disapprovingly, "You know, it means almost nothing to you. Even if you do get the qualification to drive a motor vehicle. There is also no need to physically drive a motor vehicle during the working hours throughout the year. There's no way to drive to a lot of places you're going, isn't it?"

With the increasing popularity of motor vehicles, the streets of Cateris have gradually expanded into wide roads that can be used by motorized vehicles in recent years, but in the old town, which has not yet kept up, the streets that are only considered for people cannot accommodate the entry of the huge motor vehicles.

For example, now. Where they were going, there were no roads for traffic. So the three of them got off the bus. They also had to walk through long streets to reach their destination, and they were careful not to step on puddles while striding down the downhill of the sidewalk.

"Of course, if it is mastered as a skill, it generally does not hurt. If you feel the need, you can also learn about it. ”

No skill is completely useless - Lizzie muttered as she added - and maybe one day in a special situation, even some inexplicable skills and knowledge will be put to use.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Leonster...... Where are we going now?" he glanced left and right. The streets in this neighborhood are as dilapidated as several of the streets he frequents, "The streets around here...... Is there any 'that kind of person' you say?"

Although the teenager's head is now almost filled with thoughts of revenge. But the most basic vigilance remained. He hadn't come to the neighborhood in the past, not because he didn't want to, but because the old oilboys in the slums had repeatedly warned him not to come around the neighborhood.

At the time, he didn't understand why, but now that he walked down the street, he could clearly feel a different texture from ordinary residential areas.

"I'm already above you, and your commission is not up to the mark—the person who can accept it is certainly not a legitimate professional. Curt made a silent gesture, "Don't talk nonsense on this street, wait a minute, don't talk if you can." ”

Before he left the house, he had told him that they were going to find the identity of the subject...... A person who can and is willing to kill the black-clad mage is naturally only some clean-up personnel who target "people" - compared to mercenaries, they are the real "take people's money and eliminate disasters for people".

Mercenaries always come into contact with all kinds of people, and there are naturally "professionals" in this industry among the people Curt knows. Interestingly, if it weren't for this "commission" proposed by the teenager, Curt really didn't think about the day when he would need the expertise of someone.

The circumstances of life are really a bit surprising, a few days ago I was thinking about asking for some information from his mouth, but now I have to play the role of a bridge between him and the "cleaning house". Although this qiē was all for his own purposes, Curt still couldn't help but want to laugh.

A laid-back Curt takes the dull teenager through the old neighborhood, and the trio eventually arrives at the destination of the trip, a run-down-looking bar.

The low-level sign depicts a crooked rudder, and the lights that adorn the surroundings flicker on and off, and most of the cheap lights show messy threads. On the side of the sign, there is also a column of text scribbled on the clumsy brushwork, which appears to read, "Alcohol is a good medicine for a qiē pain."

Although the door to the front of the bar is made of a heavy wood, the exterior paint has peeled off and turned upside down, and it is no longer visible from its original appearance. Only the brass doorknob still shines, indicating that there should be a steady stream of customers here, but the small bar is doing well.

Curt casually opened the door, and was greeted by vulgar pop songs. Similar to what you see from the outside, the interior of the bar is not very spacious, and the dimly lit interior has a bar that extends inside, as well as seven small and small round tables, most of which are seated.

The boy was a little surprised by such a scene, and he had thought that this would be a place where people who were tired and tired of life gathered side by side to complain or sigh - like the drunks who used to stay in the most corners of the slums, complaining about their lives every day.

But that's not the case in the bar, where there are about two dozen people occupying the seats, each looking fierce. Tattoos of daggers through skulls were tattooed on obvious parts of their bodies, presumably their uniform identity.

They ranged in age from their teens to their thirties, and were almost always wearing leather jackets with lots of studs, more armor than clothes. There are men and even people who are naked, showing off their muscles and scars all over them.

This is a place where ruffians and hooligans gather and gangsters.

Originally, the three of them were dressed in black like mourning clothes, as if they were going to a funeral, but now they have become the most normal outfit in the store. They're no doubt the center of attention, and the noise that fills the store suddenly stops to the cacophony of pop songs on the radio.

"Yo, good evening, Leinster!" Instinctively feeling that this bar was not the place he should be, the boy suddenly cringed, but heard the lead Curt stopped by a slightly bewitching voice, "I'm over here! It's not there, it's here, it's here!"

A palm waved in the direction of the trio on the inside of the bar, the innermost counter seat in the bar, almost completely obscured in shadow.

Suddenly, all eyes that had been focused on Kotzka were scattered, and the shop was noisy again, and the ruffians who had been in the shop seemed to be uninterested in them...... Rather, they avoided being associated with them as much as possible as if they were avoiding calamity.

What happened? Looking at the ruffians who changed their attitudes, a brief question flashed in the young man's heart. But when the bewildered boy saw the figure waving at them, he immediately understood what was going on.

The person who spoke was a woman, and her face was as bewitching as the voice in which she spoke. Her long red hair hung down like a wave, and her unpowdered face had a ripe fruity sheen - she had an unhuman beauty, which made people feel like they had come out of a fairy tale.

This woman is probably the most beautiful woman the teenager has ever seen in his life...... If you don't consider the crimson snake body coiled under the chair.

Beauty snake - this word is perhaps the most appropriate description of this woman. She wears a sensational thin dress, reminiscent of the desert style, if you only look at the upper body, she is indeed a beautiful woman, but the part below the waist of a normal person is connected by a red snake tail.

"Don't talk to her, not even a word, until I'm done with her. Before he was about to walk in, Curt casually approached the boy and said in a voice as thin as a mosquito, "This woman is just as she looks, not an easy fellow to deal with. ”

In fact, it didn't take Curt to explain that the boy had already sensed the dangerous aura wafting from the woman. Somehow, he felt an indescribable sense of oppression, and under her gaze, he seemed to be like a frog targeted by a snake. (To be continued!)

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