Silent Crown Chapter 490: Good-looking

Late night, noisy tavern.

Smoky.

Tobacco, alcohol and body odor are mixed together, rising in the air, under the weird pink light, the mandolin luthier sings the tune of the recent rotten street weakly and dumbly.

As always.

This is an ordinary night in the holy city.

For every guy here who is so poor that his pocket is dirtier than his face, tonight is no different from the past.

After restoring order, before even a week, the blood of the pope was forgotten in the corner.

Even if the big figures in the upper class are intrigue and the situation becomes so weird and tense, to the people here, it is nothing more than a distant legend.

Only some still-born conspiracies and successful tricks will become legends in word of mouth and spread to themselves.

The mutiny of the Holy City Guards Corps, the bloodbath of the family of an important witness of the Holy Amnesty Ministry, the assassination of the Pope was premeditated, the wife of a nobleman and the Pope had fornication, etc., such rumors, such as bad alcohol The smell of tobacco diffuses.

In this short week, a huge storm swept across the entire human world. Everywhere I went, countries were turbulent. I don't know how many people died as a result.

But for the civilians here, it's nothing more than "The Pope is dead".

Life should be passed or passed.

Even if the storm is approaching.

When midnight arrived, the atmosphere in the tavern was pushed to the highest point.

The pink lights became ambiguous and dimmed in the frenetic shouts and screams of all the audience.

In the dimly lit light, the dancer wearing a tulle walked onto the stage, and with the ambiguous turbulent music, she twisted on the steel pipe.

The dancer put on heavy makeup to conceal the yellow spots and wrinkles on her face. When she twisted, she stroked herself, moaning seductively, shaking her loose thighs, shedding a piece of tulle on her body, revealing The looming spring light.

"Take it off again! Take it off again!"

The audience with straight eyes shouted in the audience, but the dancer didn't hear it, she just twisted with the steel pipe, moaning more and more seductive, and desire in her eyes.

In the warm atmosphere, handfuls of money were scattered on the stage.

The dancer's smile became brighter, she took off the veil on her shoulders again, and threw it in the air, revealing her half-covered ****, dancing in the hot and pungent air in the waves of milk.

Behind the bar, the boss counted the money silently and smiled openly.

For so many days of martial law, after the reopening, the group of suffocated poor ghosts finally allowed him to regain some capital.

He quietly gestured to the dancers: Don't take them off too fast, hang them.

Let them pay!

Pick up money!

"Take it off again!"

The audience shouted with excitement: "Take it off again! Cheap goods, take off the skirt!"

The crumpled paper money and copper plate were thrown on the stage, and a thin layer was thrown. The dancer stepped on the sweat-soaked money, twisted her body, and winked like silk when she sucked her fingers.

The boss happily closes his mouth from ear to ear, waving his hands frantically: Put more! Take out the trick! Squeeze all this poor money out of me!

So, the last skirt that got in the way finally opened a small gap.

The audience's roar became more and more noisy. The dancer picked up the flimsy skirt with her tail finger and wiped it off her body, so that the tulle was soaked with sweat and ****.

The eyes of the hungry audience looked straight.

The dancer wriggled, moaned ambiguously, and raised her skirt:

"Who wants it?"

For a moment, there was a moment of silence in the bar, and the next moment, it exploded.

Everyone rushed to the front of the stage, reaching out their hands, trying to grab the skirt with the body odor and sweat of the dancing girl, and his eyes turned red.

"Five hundred!"

A short and thin man screamed, "I'm out of five hundred! No one is allowed to grab me!"

"Seven hundred!"

The bare-chested man stood up and patted the table: "I'm out of eight hundred!"

"My! My!"

A sharp voice sounded, and the bald old man jumped onto the stage: "No one is allowed to grab it from me! It's all mine!"

The bald old man was obviously drunk and slurred, his old arms and legs twitching excitedly, just like an old monkey.

When the other audience saw this, they couldn't help laughing.

"This guest, do you want to buy this dress?"

The bartender walked over, held back his laugh, and looked up.

The old man wore a robe, but the holy city was full of priests, so it's not uncommon to wear it like this. What's more, the teaching robe is in tatters, but it can be collapsed like this, I don't know which ghost place in the countryside came from.

The old man didn't know how long he hadn't taken a bath, and his body exuded the stench of drunk and vomiting, which made his nose cover.

"It costs money to want."

The bartender asked: "Are you rich?"

"Money?"

The old man reacted for a long time, and he suddenly smiled: "Ask for money? Say it early! Give it to you, give it to you."

He grabbed a handful of crumpled paper from his pocket, stuffed it into the hand of the bartender, and then grabbed the skirt from the dancer's hand and danced.

The bartender was stunned for a moment, did not react, his expression became ugly: This old guy wants to make trouble?

But when he looked down and saw the waste paper in his hand, he felt that he couldn't help the darkness in front of him, and he took a breath of cold air, his legs softened, and he almost knelt on the ground.

The money order!

This is the money order issued by the Holy City Church! And each one is the largest denomination, he can't count the numbers behind it at a glance...

I don’t know how many bills of exchange are crumpled into waste paper, but even if there is only one, it is enough to buy this bar and burn it, and then find the best killer to take the group in the bar. Poorly forced to kill five or six times back and forth!

The bartender stuffed things into his arms while others were not paying attention, turned around and ran out.

"What's wrong?"

The boss looked at his pale face and frowned: "Son, the old **** wouldn't give you a bag of ****?"

"I wish he could give me a pack of ****." The bartender smiled more ugly than crying, and took a look at the boss in his arms. The boss was stunned for a long time, and then took a breath Sitting on the ground: "My mom!"

He was dull for a long time, turned his head in astonishment, and saw the old man on the stage entangled with the dancing girl like a monkey, twisting unbearably, amidst the audience's boos, the drunk old man actually put his skirt on himself On my body, I danced in every way.

The action is so funny that everyone can't help but laugh. Someone who likes trouble throws money on the stage and encourages them to shout:

"Good-looking, good-looking! Jump and jump again!"

"He really gave it?" the boss asked in a low voice.

"It is true."

After the boss was silent for a while, his eyes narrowed: "He must still have it in his pocket. Let the staff at the back cook prepare it and tie the old monkey to me. Clean hands and feet. Don't leave any finishing touches."

The bartender was stunned: "Are you sure? What if the old man is a noble...Aren't we dead?"

"You are stupid."

The boss gave him a slap and whispered: "After this ticket, we will be out of town at dawn. With so much money, where can we not go?"

"You can't go anywhere."

There was a hoarse old voice.

The boss was stunned, and raised his head in shock, seeing the indifferent old man outside the counter.

The man was dressed in a jet-black tuxedo with fine fabrics, turquoise cuffs, a bow tie, and a pocket square. Even though he was so old, he still looked awe-inspiring.

But no matter what, he shouldn't be in such a ghost place at all.

Without waiting for the boss to react, the old man waved his hand, and two people took the boss and the bartender away without a trace.

The hustle and bustle in the bar is still there, and no one has noticed that two people have disappeared in the noisy and harsh sound.

Feeling the hot and humid air, the visitor frowned unhappily, coughed a few times hoarsely, and sat in the corner.

Soon, the old man on the stage who was drunk dancing and wearing a striptease dress was brought over and threw it on the opposite chair.

In this corner where no one notices, inside the noise barrier, there is silence-

"Wagner? So it was you."

The old man looked at the opposite person, and after a long time he breathed a sigh of relief, "I was scared to death! I thought someone was going to grab my skirt!"

Wagner glanced at the foul-smelling skirt subconsciously, and his expression suddenly became more ugly:

"It didn't take long for His Majesty the Pope to die. The Archbishop of the Church, Cardinal Albert, who is in charge of the Central Church, turned out to be so depraved, is it really good?"

"Relax, what's wrong?"

Wagner frowned: "There is nothing wrong with it, but if you want to relax, you will choose to stay in the basement of your home with the dancers and slave girls you raised.

No matter how bad, you can also go to some private clubs, and after closing the door, play some games with the girls who are specially prepared for you.

Except for you, no one would choose to go to such an indiscriminate striptease bar and steal public funds to buy women’s skirts to wear..."

He paused, sighing helplessly:

"Don't you feel ashamed?"

"I'm not ashamed of sitting in a wheelchair like my predecessor***?"

Albert said nonchalantly: "Besides, Archbishop Hawking told me when he retired!

Those who like to wear skirts are not bad guys! "

"..."

Wagner's face twitched, and he cursed a **** in a low voice.

"However, I am willing to fall, but you dignified saint, what are you doing here?"

Albert smiled weirdly and asked teasingly: "Isn't it also for watching striptease?"

Wagner's face sank like water, and said coldly:

"Today's Sistine meeting, you are absent, the influence is very bad."

Sistine meeting.

A meeting held in the Sistine Chapel with all the cardinals and the heads of the key departments of the Holy See as members. Since the creation of the Pope, it has been held ten times.

The timing of its holding is not expected, because every time it is held, it means...a pope has died, and the new pope will be selected by voting at the meeting.

No one has ever dared to miss such a meeting.

In previous years, even the archbishop who was dead was sent in with a hanging needle. Even if he died, he had to vote to allow himself to die inside.

Albert, as the head of the Central Temple, has the right to vote and be elected, but now he is absent.

I have to say that it set a very bad precedent.

But he didn't care.

"Will I go to participate, the result will be different? I am not interested in this kind of pre-written drama."

He glanced at Wagner: "You went to participate, but what was the result?"

"What else?"

Wagner said coldly: "A fool can guess it.

More than 80% of people agree that Ludovic will become the new pope. With the witness of God and the Holy Spirit, the voting result passed. Now the urgent announcement has been sent to all countries, right? "

He was silent for a while and told Albert:

"When it dawns tomorrow, everyone will know that in two days, Ludovic will enter the temple of the Lord, and see the sacred cauldron, and become the new pope."

"So, Ludovic is going to develop?"

Albert laughed drunkly and strangely: "It's a pity that I didn't get the flattery of the Yixin Brotherhood soon. Oh, it's a shame."

"Over the years, you have not been able to talk to the monk Yixin. Now you want to change your course? You can't even write the word'seeing the wind to make the rudder', right."

Wagner mocked: "In this matter, the Central Temple has to take the responsibility. They are worried about the lack of important positions at hand, and there is no reason to start with you.

Even if you go to please them now, it's too late.

Be prepared to be demoted to a monastery in the wilderness to spend your old age in peace. "

"It doesn't matter, it's boring to stay in the Holy City anyway."

Albert shrugged and glanced at him: "Where are you?"

"..."

Wagner was silent for a long time before answering: "Probably going to the dark world.

In three years, I will die. Before dying, at least have to use the residual heat. Over the years, Mr. Bach has been alone, and it has been too hard. "

"Isn't this great?"

Albert laughed: "I went to a monastery in a remote country. You were banished to the dark world. We all have a bright future! Long live the holy city!"

"Stop talking about this, drink the bar."

Wagner sighed, "Give me a cup too."

Albert raised his glass: "Then, to our great Pope."

"Who to respect?"

"Which one. Anyway, any **** is the same."

"Well, to your majesty the pope."

Wagner smiled bitterly, "Cheers!"

Drink it all in one go.

After the wine glass was put down, Wagner was stabbed with inferior alcohol and couldn't help but inhale. Then, he coughed violently, coughing heartbreakingly, vomiting thick sputum, but breathless.

The air here is too bad, irritating his asthma and lung diseases.

Albert shook his head, got up, skilfully pulled out the respirator from his chest pocket, pried open his teeth, and arrogantly stuffed it into his mouth:

"Suck!"

Soon, Wagner finally relieved, slumped on the chair, coughing tears and nasal mucus still on his face, losing his manners.

Albert shook his head and drank to himself: "You have been like this since you were a kid, and you can’t help being weak. If you want to take you to a depravity, you have to worry that you will die immediately. Can you save some snacks? ?"

"I'm dying anyway, I don't need to worry anymore."

Wagner wiped away the stains on his face, smiled indifferently, and got up:

"I'm leaving now."

"Well, go ahead and go."

Albert waved his hand impatiently: "I don't bother to wait for you to leave, and I will give you a goodbye to you just now."

Wagner smiled, did not say anything, just patted Albert on the shoulder and turned away. But when he walked to the door, he heard a hoarse voice coming from behind.

"Hey~IndoMTL.com~Wagner!"

"Huh?"

Wagner turned around and saw Albert.

The old man sat in the dim light, with thinning white hair, giggling, looking at himself with drunken eyes. For some reason, Wagner suddenly felt sad.

"Does my skirt look good?"

Albert asked suddenly, looking expectantly, as if he wanted to be praised.

"..."

Wagner's expression froze, he turned around angrily, and waved away: "Mom's mental retardation!"

Leave Albert alone in the bar, laughing.

Laughing like a mentally retarded——

Don't worry, don't abuse it, and I will give you the whole big news tomorrow. (To be continued.)

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