Chapter 424: 423 Fist of Anger

Chapter 424: 423 Fist of Anger

Chapter 424 423. Fist of Anger

Before arranging the room, give me a round first.

Lan tapped **** on the bar.

The tavern owner nodded with surprise and placed a small wooden cup with a tiger's mouth on the bar.

Want something cold?

He raised his head and asked.

The cooler, the better.

Amidst the continuous collision of glass bottles, the tavern owner took out a bottle of wine from under the bar. There were still fine condensed water droplets hanging on the outer wall of the brown glass bottle.

"Try this. The mead from Skellige is as sweet as honey and strong as a knife."

Of course, it will also be very expensive.

The boss didnt say the price and just poured it for Lan En. And the demon hunter doesn't care about this little money now. If this wine is really worthy of the price.

Hold the small wooden cup with three fingers, Lan En drank it all in one gulp.

Feel the strong alcohol flowing across your throat, the cold liquid creating a comfortable contrast with your own hot body temperature.

Lan En exhaled slightly.

Two more dinners and this bottle of wine.

The tavern owner raised his eyebrows.

What do you pay with?

Oren coins, without trimming.

Then ten orens.

With the tavern owner crossing his arms and looking suspiciously at him, Lan took out a stack of gold coins from the alchemy leather bag on his waist and spread it out on his palms.

I moved my fingers a few times, then pinched a few pieces, and put the rest upside down on the table.

Golden, uncut coins are lined up on this bar table, and Foltest's sideways head is clearly visible on the coins.

This money is really nice to give.

The tavern owner cursed.

If I had known better, I should have said two more coins. It seems like this person doesn't know how to bargain.

Sweeping the gold coins on the table into his arms, the tavern owner quickly arranged two rooms and dinner.

What kind of sword is that? An elfs sword? A sissys weapon!

He walked towards the table where Lan En was sitting in three unsteady steps. When he was carrying the dinner plate just now, the hilt of Arondette's sword at his waist was exposed from under his cloak.

People like you are not welcome in Sintra, you hidden bitch! This is a decent city!

The vampire and the witcher had just finished a drink. After finishing the drink, their hands were fixed in the air because of the man's interruption.

Regis gave Lan En a questioning look, and after the witcher shook his head slightly, Regis seemed to have seen nothing and began to eat freely again.

I dont seem to be in the way, mate.

A calm voice came from under the hood.

But for drunkards, they have no logic. If they want to cause trouble, they can cause trouble even if there is no reason.

What kind of accent is this, country boy? Why cant I tell where you are from? As far as I know, there is only one kind of person who speaks in such a nondescript way!

The man leaned his face full of acne scars towards Lan En, his eyes widened and his expression became more and more excited.

Spy!

Only a spy talks like this! Not to mention you are holding an elven sword!

His mouth continued to rant, and it tasted of bad beer, onions, and anger.

Did you hear that, you spy **** from the south!

Lan En tilted his head quietly and spoke calmly after he finished shouting.

Are you finished now, sir? Your remarks about southern spies just now have earned me and my companions a lot of bad looks, if you stop here.

Before Lan En could finish his calm and rational words, the man moved his face closer to her again.

I just cant learn to stop! You Southern piece of shit. Bang!

But this time, Lan En did not give him a chance to finish his words.

The arm that was lying quietly on the dining table, without anyone reacting except Regis, seemed to drop the frame in the next second, holding the man's neck!

In the broad palm, the man's neck was almost completely grasped by one palm!

Because the speed of his hand was too fast, just the action of "holding" made the acne-scarred man feel like he had been punched in the Adam's apple.

My eyes were wide open and my eyeballs were protruding, but I couldn't breathe.

At the table where the pimple-scarred man came from, several Sintra men suddenly pulled up their chairs and stood up, looking menacing.

But when Lan En also stood up and raised his arms flatly to let the pimple-scarred man's feet off the ground, the angry faces of these people suddenly calmed down like wise men.

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