An adult Sintra man, even if he is relatively thin and long, has to start at least 70 kilograms.

And a man who holds seventy kilograms of weight firmly in the struggle of the other party, and looks like he is not even breathing. The Sintra people are brave, but they are not ready to wrestle with a humanoid 'bear' without weapons or armor.

Lan En took the man by the neck in his hand and held him flat.

His hood turned to the man standing at the table, and the shadow of the hood was so dark that they couldn't see anything, and they panicked.

Gradually, the men swallowed, re-propped up the stool that they had brought over, and sat down.

It wasn't until they sat down again that Lan lowered his arms.

The man who was struggling like a live fish hanging in mid-air finally didn't look like he was dying after his feet were regrounded.

At this time, most of the people in this tavern, except for the boxing round, were already attracted by the changes on Lan's side.

And in the eyes of everyone, Lan En grabbed the neck of the pox-scarred man and dragged him in the direction of the Fist of Fury Tournament.

The man was struggling, but he didn't have the strength to give Lan En the slightest delay.

Rann dragged him like a dead duck that had already bled out.

Within the boundaries of the boxing match, the manager is using a piece of parchment with a wooden board to record the bets placed by the spectators, as well as the changes in the proportion of bets placed on the players.

"'Fishhook' Deacon wins! It was his third win! Three wins in a row! Let's congratulate him! By the way, his win rate has changed, so please be aware when placing your bets. ”

The manager's tone did not change in the slightest. Professional, very good at stirring up the atmosphere, as if like the spectators who bet on boxing, the attention is completely not focused on anywhere else.

If only the sideburns under his small fur hat hadn't slid down the sweat.

Heavy footsteps approached from behind him, mixed with the grinding of a dragged man on the ground.

Eventually, all the sounds in the tavern stopped as the heavy footsteps stopped behind him.

"Poof!"

A man's body, like a rag doll, flew past him, hit a wall and bounced off the ground.

The pox-scar man clutched his throat and took a big breath of precious air, but at the same time, he was contorted to the point of speechlessness from the pain of being knocked out of his back.

It chrysalis like a fish coming ashore.

"You two made eye contact at least three times ago, and now you want to act like nothing happened?"

The tall body cast a deep shadow, and for some reason, the person in charge only felt that the shadow was terrifyingly deep.

"Why are you provoking me?"

The handler swallowed a mouthful of saliva with difficulty, kept licking his lips, but couldn't speak.

A man who was surrounded by the audience in the center, shirtless, with a little bruises, shouted and cursed at this time.

"I'll fuck you! Who are you? This is my ring, my arena! ”

Lan remembered that he seemed to have heard something like 'streak' or 'fishhook'.

The shirtless man rushed towards the witcher.

"Come on! Kind of fight me! With bare hands! Come. Puff~"

It was another moment when no one reacted.

The local serial winner of the boxing match, the strong man nicknamed 'Fishhook', seemed to be suddenly pulled by the invisible air, and then the whole strong body did a somersault, spun in a circle and smashed to the ground.

At first, he lay on his back in a daze, and then his body reacted.

He desperately tried to shrink his back, because the smash was too sudden and painful.

The abrupt impact on his back made him unable to breathe for a while, and he could only twist into a prawn on the ground.

"Magic!" "Witchcraft!" The exclamations continued, and the originally lively crowd suddenly withdrew a large distance.

It's like just getting these two words into your ears is bad enough.

But it has nothing to do with magic.

This is the technique of boxing.

Ashina had once used his physical skills on Lan En, and in that sparring, Ashina's Sword Master even grabbed one of the witcher's palms and threw him directly from front of him to the back!

Whether it's speed, strength, or the force point of the human body, he shouldn't be able to do it.

But that old man stubbornly used his peak technique to make Lan En feel like he was thrown out of the air!

And now, the witchers who were once thrown out can also perform this trick.

His progress was even faster than Ashina had expected!

After two people lay on the ground, the manager finally seemed to recognize the reality.

"Sorry, sir. I'm just, I just want to find more people to participate, this is a new competition, and I can get a commission based on the number of games. Goo. ”

For the people of Sintra, whether it is an official match or a drunken brawl, it does not affect them to watch the excitement.

As long as the fight starts, and the manager shouts and shouts to place bets, it is a game.

Lan En tilted his head to look at the Fist of Fury operator in front of him.

"So I'm telling you now, I'm not interested in your boxing fight, and I don't want to be disturbed in this tavern, do you understand?"

"Yes, yes."

After saying that, Lan En shook his head helplessly, turned and returned to his table.

At the dinner table, Regis had already 'snapped' and applauded gently.

The sound was harsh in the silence of the tavern.

But neither of them cared.

"Wonderful tricks, wonderful!"

Regis put his hand down and poured another glass of mead for Lanne.

"Oh sorry, I drank two more glasses of excitement just now."

"Hey, I'm not making money by juggling." Lane pursed his lips and said disapprovingly to Regis.

"Of course, of course, you're a witcher, a righteous man who feeds himself by protecting humans and slaughtering monsters."

The vampire let out a low, magnetic smirk.

"To be honest, I thought you were going to kill them just now. The momentum is a little too violent, right? ”

"It's their business to be afraid, and I can't control how they feel. And I'm not going to kill someone because I'm scolded, in which case I'm going to have to kill everyone in the world who has read "Freaks, or Descriptions of Demon Hunters." ”

"Aha!" Regis took the initiative to take the cup and touch it with Lanne, who hadn't raised it yet, "Thank you for your magnanimity." ”

Lan En shook his head helplessly.

After slowly becoming more mature, this high-level vampire seems to have revealed his true nature-

Although he is gentle, he always instinctively wants to tease others.

This kind of personality makes Lane can't help but think: if Regis and Geralt get to know each other, then the conversation between the two of them will definitely make him happy for a while.

And just as Rann and Regis each had another drink, the manager who had just been intimidated by Rann cowered at their table.

The man took off the small fur hat on his head, clutched it tightly to his chest, and swallowed nervously.

"Please forgive my second offense, sir, but if I'm not mistaken, you're the one who came to pick up. The working witcher? ”

Without waiting for Lan En to say anything, the manager continued in one breath.

"I saw the pendant you just revealed, the roaring bear head. Silvery, vivid, I can't forget it after seeing it once. ”

The manager's previous remarks did not make Lan En interested.

But what he said later made the witcher and vampire turn their heads to look at him in unison.

"You mean"

Lan asked in a cautious tone.

"Have you ever seen the same pendant as me?"

The nervous organizer nodded.

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(End of chapter)