After getting off the public carriage, Weinerson walked along the historic Silver Cross Street. The public area and private area of this main road are not strictly separated. They are intertwined and lined up.
Most of the buildings on Silver Cross Street are based on the Ghent trend, and there are also various Gothic-style buildings mixed in, so it looks like veins and blood vessels, messy, crowded, and disorderly.
I still like Mink Street better than here. Although the sewers there are very smelly and there are many thieves, at least they are not so messy and the river under the bridge is not so turbid.
Weinerson was walking, and soon he heard a tinkling sound in his ears. He looked up and saw the Moonlight Tavern with a ghost sign painted directly in front of him.
Moonlight bar? I seem to have heard Mies say this before, but the original owner at that time was still a good student, or a melancholy handsome boy who listened to his elder brothers and sisters?
While his thoughts were spinning, Weinerson raised the corner of his mouth slightly and looked up at the fiery red sun hanging in the distant eastern sky. He put his hand on his half-top hat that fit a gentleman's appearance, then straightened his back and walked over, pushing open the heavy door. , the heat from the fireplace inside surged in.
Although it is still morning, there are already many customers in the tavern. Some of them are bounty hunters wearing gray vests with gun bags hanging under their arms, some are temporary porters looking for opportunities, and some are idle homeless people. The only money left was to buy wine and numb myself with alcohol.
Isn't this different from the bar I imagined?
Shouldn’t bars in other worlds be full of mystery and legend?
For example, wizards, magicians, clerics, and various adventurers? They are in small groups, or forming teams or trading... But in fact, why do they give me a feeling of being ordinary?
Weinerson looked around, and suddenly he saw a young bartender standing at the bar, wearing a white shirt, black pants, and his hair slicked back, staring at him, as if he was sizing up something.
The aroma of wine mixed with the smell of sweat came. Weinerson looked away, pinched his nose, and walked towards the innermost hall while protecting his belongings.
The light in the tavern was quite dim. In the center of the hall, he saw a large round table standing upright. A group of people who were not drunk were holding wine glasses and gathered around it, sometimes laughing loudly and sometimes swearing in low voices.
Weinerson carried the box and took a curious look. He found a wide yellowed ceramic disk on the table, with a small porcelain cup on the left and right sides. There were two strange-looking insects in it.
One of the bugs is strong and strong, with barbs all over its body, especially a protruding horn on its head, like an enlarged version of a unicorn, while the other one is long and narrow, shaped like a praying mantis, with a pair of silver-white sickle legs. It feels very aggressive.
"Do you want to place a bet? Regardless of the slight flaws in the appearance of these two little guys, they are the insect kings who have won consecutive victories in the past few days. You are lucky to have caught the two insect kings competing for hegemony!"
A middle-aged man wearing something like a cleaner's clothes had appeared behind Weinerson unknowingly, pointing at two small bugs and saying.
He has slightly curly blond hair, a broad and thin face, and a black thorn flower embroidered on his lapel. Under the dim light of the bar's chandelier, he shows a strange beauty.
Bet?
Weinerson was stunned for a moment, then looked at the disk. As slightly fuzzy memory fragments jumped out of his mind, he immediately woke up:
"Human fighting against insects?"
When taking art classes for the first time, those down-and-out aristocratic students who cannot afford private painting teachers will always assume a condescending attitude and ask students of lower status than themselves in a contemptuous and sarcastic tone what their usual entertainment programs are. , do you know about the cruel gambling project of human-human fighting against insects?
After hearing this, the middle-aged man smiled and said:
"Sir, judging from your dress, you must be a decent gentleman. Don't you know that fighting insects with human flesh has been banned for a long time? Binding human lives to bugs was banned five years ago. We You won’t play a brutal and bloody game like death by insects and death by insects.”
At this point, he muttered in a low voice: "Although this method of playing is very profitable, it is also very loss-making..."
"So what are you betting on?"
Weinerson was curious for a moment, or rather "watching the excitement."
After all, this is human nature. People always naturally like to join in the fun and get happiness and satisfaction from it. This is true whether it is in another world or on earth.
"Of course, it depends on whose insect king has the most offensive power. In addition to the opposing teams, you can choose to bet. It's a bit similar to Pai Gow. The loser only needs to provide a reasonable compensation." The middle-aged man just finished speaking and gathered around. The people immediately made a sensation.
He turned around and took a look, waving his hands excitedly and saying:
"It's about to start. If you want to place your bets, hurry up. You can't place your bets until the Insect King starts the duel. You have to wait for the next one."
When Weinerson heard this, he squeezed forward more and more curiously, but there were too many rugged men in front of him and he couldn't squeeze in. He had to stand on tiptoes, raise his head wearing a half-top hat, and look carefully.
A middle-aged man wearing a tuxedo, white gloves, and a mustache raised a gesture. The big men standing next to the two insect kings each held up the porcelain cups containing the insects like treasures, and then followed With the gesture of the middle-aged man in a tuxedo, he placed the two small bugs in the large disc in the middle, and then started biting each other.
"Bite it to death! Fuck it to death! Come on!"
"Come on, Bakar, you are the best, glory is for you!"
"Ozma, my hero, use your sharp blade to give the opponent a little color!"
The people around were holding wine glasses, staring intently at the bite of the two bugs, or shouting and cheering.
At this moment, the long and narrow bug suddenly jumped out of the disc, flew into the air, and flew out of the blinds in the blink of an eye.
The people around the round table stopped talking and looked at each other in confusion. As the male protagonist in a tuxedo blew a whistle, the crowd standing on the side of the unicorn suddenly became excited. On the other hand, The people on the other side after the insects flew away all had their heads lowered, as if they had just experienced despair.
...It’s a bug fight, and there’s still a croupier blowing the whistle online?
Weinerson woke up, his expression instantly collapsed, and the corners of his mouth kept twitching.
He really didn't understand that the most popular gambling item in the bar here was bug fighting, even worse than Solitaire and Texas Hold'em. What's even funnier is that the bugs flew away in the end...
No wonder there were people on Artixian Street who had been buying weird bugs, including some travelers who also brought bugs with them. Their feelings were all used for gambling...
Life in another world is really unique...
Weinerson shook his head, backed away in amusement, walked around the edge of the crowd of drinkers, and came to the front of the bar.
"New face?" The bartender glanced up at him while wiping the glass, "Black ginger beer is 1 pence a cup, Ghent pure beer is 2 pence, Hutton Marle beer is 4 pence, um...or you want to come? A glass of Florence depth charges?”
"Just give me a glass of black ginger beer." Weinerson said bluntly.
The bartender suddenly laughed and glanced at the black suitcase:
"Preparing to leave Faslanka? Seeing as you are not very old, are you going to the City of Hope, Hetonmar, to look for opportunities?"
"College! If my guess is correct, he is a college student." The middle-aged man in clean clothes just smiled at Weinerson, then turned to look at the bartender, "Two glasses of black ginger beer , I’ll buy his cup!”
"Thank you." Wei Nasen bowed and saluted to express his gratitude.
"Is it Ghent University? Or Polytechnic University?"
"No, I'm an art student interested in painting." Weinerson replied with some embarrassment.
"That's right. I met a painter before. She... had a bad temper and a bit weird habits, but she was great at painting." The middle-aged man took a sip of black ginger beer and said casually.
"General masters are a little different. They are talented and naturally different from ordinary people."
"maybe......"
Weinerson chatted with the middle-aged man for a few words. After drinking the last sip of beer, he bowed again and saluted, said goodbye and left the bar.
Before he went out, the drinkers gathered around to fight against insects suddenly became quiet, and the next second they made a sound of inhaling.
"Hiss...Leifu actually brought a new insect king..."
"Eight wings, there are 8 wings, and they are golden..."
Weinerson shook his head in amusement, walked away quickly, and entered the quiet road.
This road can be regarded as the quietest section in the North Cross District. It is made of gravel, red stone bricks, and white sheath stone. Every evening, when the crimson moonlight hangs high, the quiet road will flash with a cold white quiet light.
"The darkness can be illuminated without placing street lights. This principle of luminescence should be one of the powers of the God of Light, not the stone itself."
"It's really amazing, the power of light..."
Weinerson carried his suitcase as if he were sightseeing, stopping and admiring the scenery along the way.
Although his destination is indeed the steam train platform and he is indeed catching the train, he is not afraid of being late. According to the description on the admission notice, station 9643 is an extraordinary station established by St. Honavitch University. No matter when, The steam train always arrives within 3 minutes.
"It should be caused by the distortion of the power of time and space."
Not long after, he came to a huge square. The Tranquility Church towered upright. This most magnificent building on Tranquility Road exuded pure and peaceful power under the direct sunlight.
"Except for the Honavitch Church, I haven't seen any other churches. Do you want to go in and have a look? This shouldn't be considered a blasphemy to the sleeping and crimson god, right?" Weinerson hesitated for a moment, then he took steps and came to The main entrance of the church.
No priest? Although it's not a day off, it doesn't mean there are no priests, right?
While his thoughts were swirling, Weinerson stepped through the thick domed door and entered the church hall.
The Church of Tranquility, which belongs to the Holy See of Light, is different from the Church of St. Jagode, which belongs to the Honavitch Church.
Compared with the ancient, lofty and mysterious St. Jagode, the Serenity Church is full of the magnificence of modern art, inlaid with precious metals and gems everywhere, and even the sill of the dome is made of pure gold.
"So...so expensive? I didn't expect the Holy See of Light to be so rich? It is indeed one of the four orthodox churches in the Kingdom of Ghent."
Weinerson opened his eyes wide and couldn't help but let out a sound of admiration. He carefully looked at the architectural details of the church. Every part was so exquisite. The various gems inlaid seemed to be free of charge. Even the candles on the altar were It is twice the size of an ordinary church.
While sighing, he walked through rows of wooden chairs. Suddenly, he saw bright vertical lines on both sides of the Holy Seat.
Engraved on the vertical line is an abstract symbol surrounded by garlands, white doves, female herbs, and bright flowers. On both sides stand knights of light wearing heavy armor and holding huge broadswords. They are like guardian princesses. Guard on both sides.
"The God of Light... is a goddess?"
Jason once recorded the names and uses of herbs in his diary. I remember that among them was the female herb, which represents a holy and flawless woman.
It turns out that the God of Light is a goddess. No wonder Mies said before that in the Kingdom of Ghent, the God of Light is the belief of many noble ladies. Only men believe in the God of Sleep and Crimson, the God of the Sea, and the Iron Sun.
