lesson

Locke followed Yoshk downstairs and saw the beautiful proprietress at the front desk at the corner of the stairs. The lady boss, who was doing the accounts, bent over the counter. From Locke's angle, he could see the fair skin on the lady boss's chest. The lady boss, who was doing the accounts, was filled with a kind of intellectual beauty. Locke was stunned and almost lost his footing and rolled down the stairs.

It was almost evening and the sunset dyed the sky red. The orange-red light shone through the curtains of the bar. There weren't many soldiers still drinking in the bar. Other than Locke's squad who were still waiting for them, there were only a few people left in twos and threes. Yoshk went downstairs and greeted the soldiers who were still in the bar. "Lads, it's almost dinner time. I'm going back to camp. Don't drink too much." The rest of the soldiers in the bar responded respectfully. Uncle Yoshk turned around and nodded to Garen before leaving.

After sending Yoshk out of the bar, he returned to check on his men. They were all about the same age as him, and some were even younger than him. They couldn't hold their liquor as well. Hanses and Kane were the only ones who were still alive and kicking. Yad, Fayr and the rest were obviously a little drunk. Their faces were flushed as they leaned on the table and muttered something. There were only two or three empty glasses in front of each of them, which was about the same as the bottle Locke and Yoshk had drunk upstairs. However, the alcohol they drank was a little lower than Locke's. It was just ordinary iced ale. Of course, the first glass was on Locke, and the rest was probably paid for by themselves.

"You guys can't hold your liquor and yet you're drinking so much. Are you trying to make trouble for me?" Locke laughed and scolded his men who were lying in the corner of the bar. In fact, they usually only drank one glass or two when they were extravagant. Today, because Locke and Yoshk had been talking for a long time, they couldn't help but pay for one or two more glasses. That was the limit.

After drinking, everyone became even more unrestrained towards their squad leader. They ignored Locke's teasing and scolding and continued to lie there in a daze. Cain and Hans were about to force Locke down from his seat and order two more drinks. "Captain, you're treating us today. What do you mean by not drinking with your men? Sit down and let's have a drink, "Kane said to Locke.

"Don't talk nonsense. Do you think these guys can still drink? Are we going back to camp tonight? Hurry up and help them sober up! Otherwise, we won't have anything to eat. " Locke quickly waved his hand. "It's my problem today. We've been talking for too long. I'll treat you all to a drink another day!"

At this point, Locke's men weren't blind. Most of them stood up. Kane and Hans also went to help those who couldn't stand up and prepared to leave. The sky was getting dark. except for Locke and his men in the corner, there were no more soldiers drinking in the tavern.

At this moment, a group of about 15 to 16 people walked in from outside the tavern. They were young and strong men in ragged clothes with yellow faces. They were probably the remaining residents of the town. They were probably the town's remaining residents. The group of uninvited guests walked in aggressively. The middle-aged leader was about to say something when he suddenly saw Locke and the others in the corner. Their military uniforms revealed their identities. The leader's expression changed and he quickly held back his words. He looked at the group of soldiers from the corner of his eyes with apprehension and respect. His entourage, who had been talking noisily, suddenly quietened down. They also stopped moving in a slightly restrained manner.

Locke was obviously not interested in this group of poor people who suddenly appeared. He called his men to leave. Before he left, he went to the counter to settle the bill. Ten cups of ordinary ale cost 10 Copper Derahls, and two bottles of higher quality ale cost 10 Copper Derahls as well. In total, it was 20 Copper Derahls. It was a good deal. Locke took out 20 coins from his wallet and slammed them on the counter.

He heard gulping sounds coming from the ragged poor. He noticed that they didn't dare to look at their money bags, but stared at the money at the bar counter and gulped. Twenty copper thalers was considered a lot of money here. The bar seemed to be very popular today, with a total of thirty to forty people. However, don't be fooled by the superficial appearance. Most of the people here had been sitting here for the whole afternoon. They weren't as lucky as Locke's men, who had a captain who would buy them drinks. How much money could you expect these people, who were mostly third-rate soldiers and servants, to have? They usually only came for one drink, and they relied on this drink to pass the time by bragging.

The bar's normal daily profit was estimated to be around 30 Copper Derahls, or even 20 Copper Derahls when business was bad. In other words, the money that Locke bought was almost the bar's daily turnover.

The proprietress glanced at the middle-aged man who led the group of people in fearfully. Then, when she saw Locke coming up to settle the bill, she smiled at him flatteringly and said that he was welcome to come again. Locke nodded and glanced at the group of slightly uneasy people. He then called his men and walked out of the tavern.

However, as soon as he walked out of the tavern, he vaguely heard the sound of women crying and begging in a thick Shalorian accent. Locke looked back and saw four or five of the poor people blocking the entrance of the tavern, not letting anyone see what was going on inside. Locke was stunned. He wanted to see what these people were up to. Locke looked at the few Shalorian poor people in ragged clothes blocking the entrance. These dark-skinned poor people actually blocked his view. Although they didn't disrespect him, he was angry that they dared to block his view. Under Locke's increasingly sharp gaze, the gatekeepers couldn't hold on any longer. They retreated timidly, revealing a crack that allowed Locke to see inside.

In the tavern, a slightly burly Shalorian was snatching a package from the owner of the tavern. The owner of the tavern was crying and complaining to the middle-aged man, but the middle-aged man was indifferent. A few malnourished boys around him were holding a few copper derahls in their hands and counting them excitedly. Locke thought that he had just paid for the drinks.

"What are you guys doing?!" Locke suddenly shouted coldly. The slightly noisy tavern suddenly quietened down. Locke's men, who had just taken a few steps outside the tavern, also heard their leader's unfriendly voice. They turned around and walked back. Although they were drunk, they were still soldiers. They immediately sobered up and looked in the direction of their leader's gaze. The soldiers, who roughly understood what was going on, began to rub their fists. This was the rhythm of teaching someone a lesson.

The proprietress stopped whining and looked at the Faustian officer outside the tavern, who had a hint of a masculine temperament. She knew Locke. She heard that he was an officer with a small background and strength. He had come to drink with her a few times and was different from the usual boorish and flirtatious soldiers. He was an easy-going and elegant man. The proprietress had a very good impression of Locke. Is he going to help me? She suddenly had a longing in her heart.

"Sir, this is an internal matter of Giza. Is there anything you need?" Perhaps he was frightened by Locke's cold voice, or the pressure from the surrounding Faustian soldiers, the middle-aged man had no choice but to ask after a moment of silence.

Locke squinted his eyes coldly and slowly walked into the tavern, followed by his men. Kane and Hans kicked the few poor people who were still guarding the entrance of the tavern, telling them to scram. Cries of pain rang out. Locke walked towards the poor Shalorian who was fighting with the proprietress for the package. Locke's height of 1.75m gave the slightly hunched, malnourished man a lot of pressure. His hand that was locked in a stalemate with the proprietress suddenly trembled and loosened, and the package was instantly torn open. The sound of copper coins falling could be heard. There were probably thirty of them, as well as a few slightly loose women's underwear and clothes. Well, they should belong to the charming proprietress.

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