Chapter 116 The Residents (Second update, please give me a monthly ticket)
"You are such an interesting person, so interesting!"
A drunk Charlie hooked his arm around Lumian's shoulder and walked out of the tiled bar.
There were nearly twenty people inside, singing, gambling, shouting, and venting their inner emotions.
Only at this time, they seem not to be poor people with a meager salary, but the masters of their own lives.
"I thought you were going to play Bilibi with them." Lumian put his arm around Charlie's back and walked towards the stairs leading upstairs with a smile.
Bilibi is a popular gambling game in Trier, and Lumian has just learned about it.
Unlike the "fight against evil" that the people of Trier love the most, Bilibi only needs a piece of paper to play - depending on the number of people, the host draws a different number of grids on the paper, ranging from 9 to 64, and then numbers each grid, allowing participants to choose one to bet on.
Finally, the host determines a lucky number by drawing lots, tossing coins, throwing dice, etc., and the person who wins the lottery can take all the bets.
If no one wins, all the money goes to the host.
People who come to the underground bar of the Golden Rooster Hotel are either guests here or poor people nearby. Their wallets are quite empty, and they mainly use alcohol rather than money to play gambling games. For example, the winner of each round of Bilibi only gets a glass of wine bought by everyone's pooled money.
Charlie belched long:
"I haven't received this week's salary yet, so I can't indulge myself too much!"
He then said to Lumian in an excited tone:
"You know what? I'm now a trainee waiter at the White Swan Hotel, the one on Xinjie in the hot spring district.
"What does this mean? It means that I can wear a white shirt, a red vest, a black suit, and tie myself with an elegant bow tie, and still get 65 Felgins a month! When I become a real waiter, I heard that during the peak season, I can get 7 Felgins a day just in tips!
"When I get rich, I'm going to open my own inn, no, a grand hotel. Then, I'll hire you as head waiter. That damn guy doesn't have to do anything but walk around in a tuxedo and find fault with us. His monthly salary is 150 filgins!"
An apprentice waiter earns more than a laborer... Lumian smells of alcohol, but his eyes are not drunk, and he nods imperceptibly.
He remembered reading a newspaper in the study at the beginning of the year, which said in a joyful tone that the coolies in Trier earned about 700 fel golds a year.
At that time, Lumian did not have a clear concept of this and did not know whether this was a lot or a little. After all, when he was wandering, he only cared about how much food he could get every day and whether there were kind people who would give him a few ricks. The income of the villagers in Cordu Village was mainly in kind, which made him only understand the prices of specific commodities and the gold content of different banknotes, and he lacked a clear understanding of the overall situation.
Of course, this is also because Aurore has a high income, so he hardly has to worry about the situation at home.
As far as Lumian knew, after Aurore became famous, with the increase in the number of books published and signed columns, her annual income increased significantly, and last year's total royalties seemed to have approached 13 Felgin.
However, Aurore earned a lot and spent a lot. Spells, materials and mystical knowledge were the bulk of her expenses. Moreover, she might also be helping some members of the "Curly Baboon Research Society" who were not doing well, and she made long-term donations to charities organized by the government or the church.
But what puzzled Lumian was that when he said goodbye to Cordu Village, he didn't find a single deposit slip at home.
He knew very well that Aurore had always had the habit of saving, and the premise for spending a lot was that she had already saved a lot of money in places like Suchit Bank.
In this regard, Lumian temporarily suspected that he and his sister were chosen as sacrifices or containers, and during the time they lost their personal freedom, they were taken away by the group led by the parish priest Guillaume Bennet.
As soon as he and Charlie walked up to the second floor arm in arm, Lumian heard a shrill wail:
"You bastard!"
Bang! As a door slammed shut, the wailing was blocked, leaving only the residual sound echoing in the corridor.
A figure dressed in a neat black tuxedo walked from the end of the corridor towards the stairs.
This was also a young man, probably about the same age as Charlie, with brown hair parted in the middle, dark brown eyes that showed no emotion, and slightly thin lips that were tightly pursed.
He was quite good-looking, holding a black top hat, looking like he was attending an upper-class salon, which was totally out of place in the environment of the Golden Rooster Hotel.
The man was accompanied by a woman's cry, full of pain and despair.
Watching the man's back disappear into the stairs leading to the bottom floor, Charlie, with a ruddy face, curled his lips:
"What a bastard!"
"Do you know him?" Lumian was quite "concerned" about the neighbors around him. After all, he might live here for a while, and the more he knew the environment, the safer he would be.
Charlie said with contempt:
"His name is Laurent, the son of Madame Lacazan in Room 201.
"Mrs. Lakazan has to mend socks and do all kinds of handicrafts for sixteen hours every day just to support this bastard, while he always wears decent clothes and takes money to go to those expensive cafes, saying that he can meet people from the upper class and find opportunities to get rich!
"Haha, he thinks he is very talented..."
Before Charlie finished speaking, a fierce quarrel between a man and a woman was heard in a room.
They insulted each other.
"There's a couple eloping on the third floor. They've almost spent all their money, so they do this every day." Charlie said with a chuckle, "My friend, you have to get used to it. This is the market area, the chaotic streets, the 'Golden Rooster Hotel', and there are seriously ill people, bankrupt guys, vendors who cheat tourists into buying things, foreigners who just go downstairs to drink and never leave the hotel, street girls with little money, lunatics who have problems with their brains and occasionally sober up, stonemasons who have lost their jobs, retired soldiers, old men pretending to be poor, wanted criminals...
"They have to thank Mr. Efe for being a good man. Apart from not defaulting on rent, he is very tolerant in other aspects."
"Mr. Efe...the hotel owner? The miser that Mrs. Fels mentioned?" Lumian asked back.
Charlie immediately laughed and said:
“Yes, a kind-hearted miser, he even gave everyone free sulfur!
"Hiccup, I haven't seen Mr. Efe for several days. I'm really worried that he would save money by not going to the Wall Street or to the place where the Red Princess is, but just find a random woman on the street and get seriously ill..."
Charlie waved his hand.
"Charles, hiccup, I'm going to bed. I have to leave at six tomorrow morning and arrive at the hotel at seven.
"Hey, if you can't find a job, you can tell me and I'll introduce you to a job as a handyman in our hotel. You can earn 50 Felkins a month, and even 75 if you work for a long time. In addition, every meal will be free, and a liter of wine will be provided in the evening!"
"Okay." Lumian smiled and watched Charlie go upstairs.
At the same time, he muttered to himself silently:
"Simply provoking me won't help the digestion of the potion much..."
He assembled the "fool instrument" in the bar just to provoke everyone there, and it was successful, but it did not lead to further digestion of the potion.
Previously, during the journey from Darriege to Trier, Lumian had often provoked others, and occasionally he would feel the potion digesting, but most of the time he gained nothing.
If he couldn't find a more correct way to act, he suspected it would take him at least a year to digest the "Provocateur" potion.
On the way back to room 207, Lumian heard violent coughing from upstairs, heard the woman calling her lover a "lazy guy" and a "waste", and heard gunshots and a group of people chasing each other outside.
This is the "Golden Rooster Hotel", this is the chaotic street.
According to Charlie, at night, even the police would not dare to walk in here alone. At least they need a companion to give them the courage.
Taking out the brass key, Lumian opened the door and walked back into the house.
Those bedbugs seemed to have some kind of strange perception and never came back here.
Lumian smelled the smell of sulfur, looked up, and found a letter lying quietly on the wooden table by the window.
He took a few steps closer and picked up the paper folded into a square.
A reply from the “magician” lady? Lumian muttered as he unfolded the letter and read it under the crimson moonlight shining in from the window:
“I’m glad that you arrived in Trier safely. This proves that you have mastered the preliminary skills to evade pursuit and regained the experience of walking in the dark side of society.
“This Sunday afternoon at 3:30 pm, in Booth D of Mason Café in the Botanical Gardens, one of the psychologists will be offering you therapy.
"These few days, your mission is to go to the underground tombs near the observatory area and find a man named Osta Trull. He often pretends to be a wizard there and cheats tourists and citizens out of their money.
"No matter what method you use, gain Osta Trull's trust and show that you also have extraordinary abilities when the time is right."
The Botanical Gardens and the Observatory Area are both located to the west of the Honest Market Area, adjacent to each other, the former to the south and the latter to the north, both resting on the Serenzo River.
Lumian read the reply from the "Magician" lady over and over again, memorized the corresponding place, time and name, then lit a match and burned the paper filled with the word Intis.
After doing all this, he went to the nearest bathroom to clean himself up briefly, then took out the "Fallen Mercury" wrapped in black cloth, took off his coat, and lay down on the bed.
The ceiling covered with bedbugs came into his sight, and the occasional coughing, crying, and quarreling sounds echoed quietly in the room.
Before long, the eloped couple told everyone they had reconciled through intense exercise and unconcealed breathing.
In the street outside, several rough voices sang obscene songs, which were interrupted by gunshots, followed by curses, the clashing of sticks and the sound of sharp weapons entering flesh.
Compared to Koldu Village, it is very noisy here at night.
PS: Please vote for me for the second update, and I will update again at 0:05.
(End of this chapter)
