Twenty Seven Years

   Chapter 228 Boss Xin

Quinn's Tavern is located in a prime location on Mandolin Street, and Mandolin Street is the city center of Old South Yorkshire. Logically speaking, the business will be very good. It is not to say that it is overcrowded all the time, but it does not seem to be so crowded at the entrance. deserted.

  When Veraker approached the dilapidated doorway, he felt a bad premonition inexplicably. He touched the pistol pinned to his waist with his hand through the coat, which made him feel more at ease.

   Walking through the small door of the tavern, the inside is much more spacious than Verak imagined, roughly hundreds of square meters. There were not many people, almost all seats were filled.

  While a few tables are full of people playing cards and drinking, while there are people singing and dancing, there is a tacit understanding and an orderly order in the chaos.

  Villac smelled the strong smell of wine and sweat, and couldn't help covering his nose and coughing lightly. Then, while looking at the surrounding guests, he walked to the bar: "What kind of wine is there?"

"Who are you from?" The man with a mustache in a shabby white shirt in front of the bar did not enthusiastically introduce the drinks in the tavern to Veraker, but after hearing that his Dunman language was a bit broken, he first asked Veraker about his origin .

   "What?" Verak faintly felt that the guests around him were casting unfriendly eyes on him, so he didn't rush to answer, and quickly analyzed the situation secretly.

   "Let me ask again, who are you from?" The mustache man in front of the bar had cold eyes and a tough tone.

  Villac felt that if he procrastinated any longer, the situation would get out of control, so he said, "I don't understand what you're talking about. It's my first time in the Old South Treaty, and I'm not from anyone."

   "First time here? Where are you from?"

   "Blesi people." Verac said and looked around, and found that his intuition was correct, and the people around him were indeed staring at him.

   "The first time you came to Dunman, you went straight to us?" The man was obviously not convinced by Verak's explanation, and he still maintained a high degree of suspicion of him.

  Verak guessed something.

  The layout of Quinn's tavern is definitely not what Keating knew before, otherwise an ordinary tavern would not be so wary of a guest who came to drink.

  Here seems to be a conflict with some other force in the Old South Treaty, mistaking him for someone who got in with the other side.

"Yes." Veraker remained calm in the face of danger, giving full play to his talent in acting, and began to improvise his own origin and purpose in order to dissolve the people in the tavern based on what Keating had briefly said about his old friend Wilson. Suspicious, and inquired about the details by the way, "I ran all this way just to come to this Quinn's Tavern."

"How to say?"

"Uh...my Dunman is not very good, so I may speak slowly..." Suddenly he had to make a more complicated explanation, which was a test of Verak's vocabulary. He first greeted the man with the mustache , lest the other party can’t wait to make something happen, and then explain the reason slowly with the words he knows, “My father came here six or seven years ago, and the boss here, Mr. Wilson, helped my father a lot , Later, when my father returned home, he kept thinking about finding an opportunity to express his gratitude to Mr. Wilson, but he was not in good health and was not suitable for long-distance travel, so he could only ask me to come..."

   "Your father knew Wilson, and you came here to thank Wilson instead of your father?" The man with the mustache summed up Verac's explanation.

  Vilak carefully listened to the man with the mustache and took a few seconds to digest, then nodded and said: "Yes."

   "What's your father's name?"

   "Most Klein." Verak didn't know what his father's name was, so he made a random response.

   "Most Klein...what's your name?"

"Most Verak." Now, except for Verak who personally told Locke Shriver, no one in the government knows that Chris is dead and his real name, so he didn't hide anything in Dunman. He used his real name openly.

  The man with the mustache did not stop interrogating Verak: "What did Wilson help your father?"

"My father came to the Old South to make a living, but it was too xenophobic here, he couldn't find a job, and he ran out of money. It was Mr. Wilson who gave my father some money when he was desperate, so that he could Back to Brisey."

   "Then your father asked you to come back to thank Wilson. Did you bring any token?"

   "Sorry, I didn't catch you, could you speak slower?"

   "Since your father asked you to come back to thank Wilson, did you bring him anything?"

Apart from the money, Veraker only had the pistol in his waist. He pretended to be digesting and translating the words of the man with the mustache. A banknote with a face value of one hundred luns: "Mr. Wilson lent five hundred luns to my father at that time, and now I will return it to Mr. Wilson."

  Dunman's five hundred gallons is equivalent to one gold gram of Bresci. Verac figured out that in his reason, Wilson lending one Jingram to a stranger should be the limit, so he specially prepared such a number.

   "Just give it to me." The mustachioed man took the five hundred-lun bill from Veraker, "My name is Willow, and Wilson is my father."

   "Really? So where is Mr. Wilson now?" Knowing that the man who had questioned him clearly was the son of Keating's old friend, Verac showed a naturally delighted expression.

   "My father died of illness a year ago." Willow wiped the bar.

  Verak's smile quickly faded: "How could...then..."

   "Then what?" Willow raised his head and glanced at Verak. His attitude did not improve because Verak gave him five hundred luns, and he was still cold. "Now that the money is over, you can go."

   "Can't you have a glass of wine?" Verak took out another hundred gallon and put it on the bar.

  Wilson is dead, and the gold clue can only be investigated through Willow, and he must hold on to this thread.

"Only locals are served here." Willow looked a little impatient, and he didn't know whether he believed what Verak said just now, "You go out, and next time you go to another place, you can see the house number clearly. If foreigners come in, you'd better not go in and make trouble. If you still come to us like this time, you will be in big trouble."

   "I don't plan to go anywhere else." Verak said.

  Willow accepted the one hundred gallon on the table: "This money is considered as a piece of advice from me."

"Then can you tell me where Mr. Wilson is buried? I want to visit, so that at least I can have an explanation with my father when I go back." Once I go out this time, it's not good to use the same reason next time Came in, so Verak was reluctant to leave, trying to get more clues.

   "My father doesn't like to be disturbed." Willow raised his head and looked at Verac. "Now, go out."

"and many more."

Just when Veraker was at a loss, at the card playing table next to him, a rough-looking middle-aged man exuding a murderous aura got up and limped to the bar: "Give him some rum too." A glass."

   "...um." Willow seemed convinced by the disabled man, his expression changed from cold to respectful, and he prepared two glasses of rum with ease, and pushed them to them respectively.

   "What kind of wine is popular in Bresci?" The middle-aged man took a sip from his glass and asked in a thick voice.

  Villac couldn't figure out what this person was trying to do when he started talking to him: "Wine, Julai, Imbit..."

   "Ah, yes, wine, there are many wineries in your area." The middle-aged man remembered some information about Brecy.

   "You are..." Verak smelled the faint smell of blood on the middle-aged man, so he didn't drink down the wine.

   "My name is Larry Xin." Xin introduced himself, "I served in the army with Willow's father before, and we are good friends from life to death. After retiring from the army, he opened a tavern and I became a butcher."

   This Xin and Wilson have been friends for decades, so will Keating know him?

  Verak secretly guessed, and tentatively asked Xin's purpose for coming to talk: "So that's the case... Then why did you come to drink with me?"

"Wilson and I are good friends, and I'm even more qualified than Willow to tell you where he is buried." Xin's accent was a bit peculiar, making it difficult for Verack to hear, "But the five hundred gallons put in six or seven years ago Now it’s not so little, and it’s definitely not enough for you to pay back just now, so I have a request.”

"any request?"

   "Play cards with me for a while. If you win, I'll tell you where Wilson is. If you lose, leave a sum of money, how about it?" Xin asked.

   "Boss Xin, let him—" Willow wanted to say something.

  Xin had already walked back to his seat on his own, and the other people at the same table got up and retreated to the sides in a timely manner, waiting for Verak to come forward.

   Seeing this, Willow stopped meddling in his own business.

   Knowing that Xin was after his own money, Verak was relieved.

  Problems that can be solved with money are not big troubles.

   In addition, he noticed a detail. When Willow called his father's best friend, he didn't call him an uncle, but 'Boss Xin'.

   This reminded him of the extremely chaotic situation in Old South York that Keating told him about when he came here.

   Could this Boss Xin be the leader of a local gang that Keating mentioned?

"Can you play blackjack?" Boss Xin asked Verak if he wanted to play blackjack at the very beginning, and now he asked him if he could play blackjack. Answer, sit down directly after asking, and prepare cards.

Looking at this posture, it is not so easy for him to go out. Verak, who was alone among the Dunmans, stabilized his heart, walked to the seat and said, "I don't bring much money, and I can play with you at most five hundred luns. "

   "Yes." Boss Xin agreed.

  Verak sat down and looked at the stacked cards on the table.

   "Can you play?"

   "No." Verak shook his head.

When Boss Xin explained the rules of the game, he also simplified it by the way: "Blackjack is a poker game. Draw 52 cards except the big and small kings, and try to make the total points of the cards in your hand reach 21 points, or close to 21 points. Points, but not more than, and then compare the size of the total points with me to determine the winner. Among them, 2 to 9 cards are calculated according to their original points; K, Q, J and 10 cards are all counted as 10 points; A cards can be counted as 1 point can also be counted as 11 points, and it is up to you to decide what it is after the suspension."

   "Understood..." Verak roughly understood how to play.

   "Do you want to shuffle the cards again?" Boss Xin looked confident, determined to let the outsider keep some money.

  Verak never thought of winning. If he loses, he can still spend money to eliminate disasters. If he wins, the boss Xin will be unhappy, and the situation will become more difficult: "No, I trust you."

   "Since you trust me so much, then you come first." Xin Lao said.

  The brawny men next to them were laughing and whispering, Verak took out the only seven hundred-lun bills left in his pocket, and took out five of them and put them on the table: "One round decides the outcome?"

"certainly."

   "Okay." Verak leaned forward, drew a card, and glanced at himself.

  Boss Xin observed Veraker's expression, and then drew one too.

  No matter what they drew for the first card, it was still far from being exploded, so both of them quickly drew the second card.

   At this point, the situation became a little tense.

  Villac looked at the K and 7 in his hand. His current value added up to 17 points. As long as he drew a card greater than 4 for the next card, the points would exceed 21 and he would lose.

   Boss Xin narrowed his eyes and asked, "Do you want more?"

   "Yes." After thinking for a while, Verak drew another card decisively.

   Anyway, he didn't want to win, so there was no need to be so restrained.

   "I lost." Turning over the newly drawn cards, Verak spread out the three cards and shrugged.

  He drew a K again on the third card, and the total points reached twenty-seven points, and he immediately busted.

   Boss Xin grinned and revealed his two cards. His points were fifteen: "Why do you insist on seeing Wilson?"

   "My father asked me to thank him in person." Verak handed the five hundred-lun bill to Boss Xin, repeating his own reasons, "I have come so far, so I have to give my father an explanation."

   "What a filial child." Boss Xin took the money and handed it to the subordinates standing beside him. "Wilson was buried in the sea. If you want to see him, go to the seaside to mourn."

   "Okay... thank you." Verak got up, "Then I'll go first."

  After leaving Quinn's Tavern, Verac was relieved.

   Fortunately, this group of people is xenophobic, but the hostility is not strong. The reason is that he came to thank Wilson and let him go. Otherwise, he might be mistaken for someone from some other force and encounter accidents.

   "Huh..." He breathed a sigh of relief, and looked up at the window of the opposite hotel, where Keating was waiting for him.

  Although he was a little dangerous just now, he got a lot of useful information after all. After returning to the hotel, he told Keating everything about the situation.

   Keating's face was serious after hearing this.

   "Teacher, do you know that man named Larry Xin? Everyone in the tavern calls him Boss Xin." Verac stood at the window, looking at the Quinn tavern with fear and asked.

   "I know." Keating seemed to know Boss Xin quite well, "He's in trouble."

  (end of this chapter)