Chapter 582 583. Gangsters
The demon hunters are experts in searching for traces, and they have obtained the original directions of action of the remaining six search teams last night.
So I started searching along this clue.
Clues appear quickly.
On the first route, Lan En and the other three discovered the cavalrymen of the refugee group who were out looking for supplies. Their bodies were lying unobstructed beside the road.
As members of the Nilfgaardian forces, they certainly don't have to cover up their traces, because who else in Cintra is more powerful than them now?
So, Lan En and the other three were able to see the unscrupulous style of that group of special forces.
"He was dragged to death."
Lan squatted down and looked at the boots of the corpse.
A broken rope was tied to the ankle of the boot.
"The group of people tied him with a rope and then ran wildly. In less than 150 meters, the man's face was scratched."
"It seems that he is not very good at it. Control his position, if he lands on his butt, he can live a little longer."
Ged said on the horse, while Geralt on the other horse shook his head and rejected his statement.
“I think he is very good at controlling his position, so he can move easily to face a group of torturers who take pleasure in torture. Living longer will only make them more excited.”
"Hmm." Gerd grunted and scratched his bearded chin, "That makes sense."
Although he could grow a beautiful beard, he always shaved it all off because he was too lazy to take care of it.
But now, he has not had the chance to care about the hair on his face for several weeks.
The guys who dragged the cavalry on the ground to death came back on horseback to take a look after the rope was broken, and confirmed that the 'toy' was indeed dead.
So the bloody horse hoof prints were left.
Lan En stood up from the ground, grabbed a handful of dirt and rubbed it on his hands, wiping off the blood on his gloves.
In the eyes of the three demon hunters, the cat-like pupils began to shrink uncontrollably at the same time.
So, a bright red horse hoof print appeared in their eyes on the road.
"Don't go on the road, go back to the woods on the roadside."
Lane turned away from the road, Geralt and Gerd followed him on horseback.
“My vision is further than yours. I can see clearly in the forest. Just follow me.”
"That's really good. At least you won't run into a Nilfgaardian patrol head-on." Gerd muttered, and Geralt nodded.
——
Follow the road and you will reach a fork.
A small hotel is built at this fork in the road. In normal times, this hotel will take care of every traveler on the road to Sintra, providing them with hot water and rest.
The royal family of Sintra sometimes gave subsidies to this hotel to help them maintain the existence of this hotel to facilitate the flow of pedestrians on the road and the circulation of goods and economy.
And now, a wooden truck is parked within the fence of the hotel. The painted slogans on it can no longer be clearly seen. Only the silhouette of a man holding a razor is still clear, which makes people know that this is a barber's mobile work truck. .
The owner of the work truck is currently huddled next to his wheel, looking like he wants to hug the wheel that is still stained with dog feces, bird droppings, and mud.
He was frightened.
In the hotel, most of the ugly and dirty but durable tables and chairs were messy and fell apart, lying on the wooden floor of the room.
Only the bar counter and a few chairs were left intact. Two people were sitting on the bar, taking out beers to quench their thirst.
The scabbard on a man's waist was empty, but there was a bloody sword on the bar. The other person didn't seem to draw his sword or exercise strenuously, so he drank beer slowly.
The sound of boots stepping into the mud could be heard outside the hotel. The two people on the bar first tensed up their bodies at the same time, and then relaxed at the same time.
Because they can tell who is coming from the footsteps. "What are you doing?"
His voice came in before the people outside came in.
Then the man gulping beer at the bar lifted a delicate paint can on the table and raised it behind him.
"It's not a big deal, boss. How about something like this first?"
His eyes were blurred and scattered, with a strange light, and his body movements were as fast as convulsions.
His gift was accepted.
A man wearing a soft cloth hat came in from the door, and behind him was a woman who hung the soft cloth hat around her neck like a scarf.
The man in the cloth hat looked at the blood on the ground and the faded traces of sawdust. Someone had obviously dragged the body, and the end point was the door next to it.
This is not a big deal.
He then poured out a little white powder from the jar and applied it to his gums with his fingers. Then he looked like a man with blood on his sword.
Anesthetic powder, a ‘good thing’ that refreshes and refreshes the mind.
"What have you done, Herris?"
The man in the cloth hat asked in a confused tone.
"It's no big deal." The man with the unsheathed sword on the bar answered.
"We met the 'tusked rats' here. They made rude remarks, and then Brass killed all six of them. I didn't draw my sword. If you want to cause trouble, go to him."
The 'Langtooth Rats' are a gangster that has become somewhat famous in the neighborhood after the war started.
War will make life difficult for most people, but gangsters who have broken free from the shackles of order are not among them.
Although the food and drink conditions are a bit worse than before, the gangsters don't care too much. As long as they have a free life and a sufficient amount of anesthetic powder, they will be in paradise.
And it’s different from refugees struggling to survive. Gangsters who have taken too much narcotic powder are mostly like a group of brainless crazy kids. One day is a day to be wild.
Brass, whose sword was stained with blood, laughed hoarsely.
A sensible person can tell at a glance that powerful narcotics make him feel happy. "That's right, kill one to serve as a warning to others, so there will be blood on the ground."
His understatement made it impossible for anyone to imagine that it was just him who killed a notorious person in just a few minutes. Gangsta.
Moreover, this group of people only wore a leather vest and no other protection. Obviously, they did not achieve this by relying on the armor's performance.
Brass said in a boastful tone, "Others immediately became honest, even if the boss here was cursing just a moment ago. This is called terrorism!"
"Oh, so this is called terrorism. Terrorism." The man in the cloth hat thought, still staring at the blood stains on the ground. "Where is the hotel owner? Where is his wife? This is a rare resting point on this road, and the army can use it. If it paralyzes it, you two can stay here as cooks!"
" No." Blas flushed his sword blade with beer, and the sword became clear. Like new.
"I'm not stupid, why do I kill people who are doing business honestly? We kill people to make money, and then use the money to buy enjoyment. What kind of stupid ass would kill the people who provide us with enjoyment?"
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"Look, I even saved a barber from a 'tusked rat'!"
"Terrorism," Brass narrowed his shining eyes and sucked the flowing liquid. Sniffle, "We conquered this hotel with it! Emperor Emhyr conquered the whole world, and we conquered this shabby house. But the principle is the same!"
"It's better to be different. Anyway, you just need to Don’t forget, what is the purpose of Emperor Emhyr pardoning us from the prison, and what is the purpose of equipping us with this equipment, and what are the consequences of failing to achieve the purpose.”
The man in the cloth hat fell back. He put some anesthetic powder on his hand and muttered.
“I don’t want him dancing on my tombstone.”
Thanks to Anyanzhixin and Ximen Chuishui for the 100-point reward!
(End of this chapter)