Chapter 498 Good Looking

Chapter 499 Good to see

Late at night, a noisy tavern.

Smoke filled the air.

The smell of tobacco, alcohol and body odor mixed together and rose in the air. Under the strange pink light, the mandolinist sang the recently popular tunes with a hoarse voice.

As always.

This is an ordinary night in the holy city.

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

After the restoration of order, not even a week has passed, and the blood shed by the Pope has been forgotten in the corner.

Even if the bigwigs in the upper class are scheming against each other, and the situation has become so weird and tense, it is just a distant legend for the people here.

Only some plots that are stillborn and tricks that succeed will become legends through word of mouth and spread among themselves.

The Holy City Guards mutinied, the family of an important witness of the Ministry of Absolution was massacred, the assassination of the Pope was premeditated, the wife of a certain noble had an affair with the Pope, and so on. Rumors like these spread in the smell of low-quality alcohol and tobacco.

In this short week, a huge storm swept the entire human world. Wherever it went, countries were in turmoil, and countless people died because of it.

But for the civilians here, it was just a sentence like "the Pope is dead".

Life must go on.

Even if the storm is coming.

When midnight came, the atmosphere in the tavern was pushed to the peak.

Amid the fanatical shouts and roars of all the audience, the pink lights became ambiguous and dim.

In the blurred lights, the dancers in gauze walked onto the stage and twisted on the steel pipes to the ambiguous and agitated music.

The dancer put on heavy makeup to hide the yellow spots and wrinkles on her face. She stroked herself while twisting and moaned, ■■■■■■■, and took off a piece of tulle on her body, ■■■■■■■.

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

The audience shouted with their eyes wide open, but the dancer seemed to be deaf to it. She just twisted and turned while holding the pole, ■■■■■■■, ■■■■■■■.

In the warm atmosphere, handfuls of money were thrown onto the stage.

The dancer smiled more and more brilliantly, and took off the veil on her shoulders again, threw it into the air, and danced in the pungent and humid air.

Behind the bar, the boss counted the money silently, smiling.

After so many days of martial law, after reopening, the group of poor ghosts who were pent up finally let him get back some of his capital.

He quietly gestured to the dancer: Don't take it off too fast, keep them hanging.

Let them pay!

Pay!

"Take it off again!"

The audience shouted excitedly: "Take it off again! Bitch, take off your skirt!"

The crumpled banknotes and coins were thrown onto the stage, forming a thin layer.

The boss was so happy that he couldn't close his mouth and waved his hands wildly: Try harder! Use your tricks! Squeeze all the money from these poor bastards!

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

The roar of the audience became louder and louder. The dancer lifted the thin skirt with her little finger and wiped it across her body...

The hungry audience stared with their eyes wide open.

The dancer's body squirmed, ■■■■■■■, and lifted the skirt:

"Who wants it?"

In an instant, the bar was silent for a moment, and the next moment, it exploded.

Everyone rushed to the front of the stage, stretched out their hands, trying to grab the skirt with the dancer's body odor and sweat, their eyes reddened.

"Five hundred!"

A short and thin man screamed, "I'll give you five hundred! No one is allowed to snatch it from me!"

"Seven hundred!"

The strong man with his upper body exposed stood up and slapped the table: "I'll give you eight hundred!"

"Mine! Mine!"

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

The bald old man was obviously drunk, his speech was slurred, and his old arms and legs were twitching with excitement, just like an old monkey.

Other audience members couldn't help laughing when they saw this.

"Sir, do you want to buy this dress?"

The bartender walked over, holding back his laughter, and looked at him.

The old man was wearing a cassock, but the Holy City was full of priests, so it was not uncommon for him to wear it like this. What's more, the cassock was tattered, but I don't know which country ghost place he came from to be so poor.

The old man hadn't taken a bath for a long time, and he exuded a stench of drunken vomiting, which made people cover their noses.

"It costs money to want it."

The bartender asked: "Do you have money?"

"Money?"

The old man took a long time to react, and then smiled: "You want money? Why didn't you say so earlier? Here, all for you."

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

The bartender was stunned for a moment, and didn't 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 couldn't help but feel dizzy, took a breath, and his legs softened, almost kneeling on the ground.

Bill of exchange!

This is a bill of exchange issued by the Holy City Cult! And each one is the largest denomination, and he can't count the numbers behind it at a glance...

I don’t know how many bills there are in that crumpled bill, but even if there is only one, it is enough to buy this bar and burn it, and then find the best killer to kill these poor people in the bar five or six times!

While no one was paying attention, the bartender stuffed the things into his arms and ran out.

“What’s wrong?”

The boss looked at his pale face and frowned: “Son, did that bastard old man give you a bag of dog shit?”

“I hope he can give me a bag of dog shit.” The bartender smiled uglier than crying, and showed the boss what he had in his arms. The boss was stunned for a long time, took a breath, and sat down on the ground: “My God!”

He was stunned for a long time, and turned back in surprise, and saw the old man on the stage entangled with the dancer like a monkey, twisting unbearably. Amid the boos of the audience, the drunk old man actually put the skirt on himself and danced in imitation.

The funny movements made everyone laugh. Some people who liked to stir up trouble threw money on the stage and encouraged them to shout:

"Look good! Dance again!"

"Did he really give it to her?" the boss asked in a low voice.

"Absolutely true."

After a moment of silence, the boss narrowed his eyes and said, "He must have more in his pocket. Let the people in the kitchen prepare to tie up that old monkey for me. Be clean and don't leave any tail."

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

"You are stupid."

The boss slapped him and whispered, "After this job, we will leave the city at dawn. With so much money, where can't we go?"

"You can't go anywhere."

A hoarse and old voice sounded.

The boss was stunned, looked up in surprise, and saw the indifferent old man outside the counter.

The man was wearing a black, straight suit made of fine fabric, with lapis lazuli cuffs, and his tie and pocket square were meticulous. Even though he was so old, he still looked awe-inspiring.

But no matter what, he shouldn't have appeared in such a ghost place.

Before the boss could react, the old man waved his hand, and two people took the boss and the bartender away without leaving a trace.

The bar was still noisy, and in the noisy and harsh sound, no one noticed that two people had disappeared.

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

Soon, the old man who was drunk and dancing wildly on the stage and wearing a striptease skirt was brought over and thrown on the chair opposite.

In this corner that no one noticed, within the soundproof barrier, there was silence.

-

"Wagner? It's you."

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

Wagner subconsciously glanced at the smelly skirt, and his expression suddenly became more and more ugly:

"It's not long since the Pope died, and the archbishop of the church, the cardinal Albert who is in charge of the Central Cathedral, has become so depraved and obscene. Is it really good?"

"Relax, what's wrong with that?"

Wagner frowned: "There's nothing wrong with that, but if everyone wants to relax, they will choose to relax in their basement with their own dancers and slaves.

At the very least, You can go to some private clubs, close the door, and play some games with the girls who are specially prepared for you.

Except for you, no one would choose to go to such a low-level strip club and steal public funds to buy women's skirts to wear..."

He paused and sighed helplessly:

"Don't you feel ashamed?"

"I'm not sitting in a wheelchair like my predecessor. What's there to be ashamed of?"

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

- People who like to wear skirts are not bad people!"

"..."

Wagner's expression twitched and he cursed in a low voice.

"However, I'm self-degrading, but what are you, a saint, doing here?"

Albert showed a weird smile and asked teasingly: "You are not here to watch striptease, are you?"

Wagner's face was as gloomy as water, and he said coldly:

"You are absent from the Sistine Conference today, which has a very bad impact. "

Sistine Conference

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

There is no expected time for its holding, because each time it is held, it means... a pope has died, and the new pope will be selected through voting at the meeting.

No one has ever dared to miss such a meeting.

In previous years, even archbishops on their deathbeds were sent in with intravenous drips. Even if they died, they had to vote before they were allowed to die in there.

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

It must be said that a very bad precedent has been set.

But he doesn't care.

"Will the result be different if I attend? I am not interested in this kind of pre-written drama."

He glanced at Wagner: "You did attend, but what was the result?"

"What else can you do?"

Wagner said coldly: "Even a fool can guess it.

More than 80% of the people approved of Ludovic becoming the new pope. Under the witness of God and the Holy Spirit, the voting results were approved. Now the urgent announcement has been sent to all countries, right? "

He was silent for a moment and told Albert:

"When tomorrow dawns, everyone will know that in two days, Ludovic will enter the Saloman Temple, see the Holy Cauldron, and become the new Pope."

"So, Ludovic is going to be prosperous?"

Albert laughed drunkenly: "It's a pity that I didn't flatter the Isshin Monk Society sooner. Oh, it's such a pity."

"Over the years, you have been causing trouble with the Yishin Monk Society. Now you want to change your ways? You can't even write the word 'adjust to the wind', right?"

Wagner mocked: "The Central Temple is responsible for this incident. They are worried that they don't have enough critical positions at hand, and they have no reason to attack you.

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

Prepare to be relegated to a monastery in some remote mountain to spend your remaining years. "

"It doesn't matter, there's no point in staying in the Holy City anyway."

Albert shrugged and glanced at him: "What about you?"

"..."

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

In three years, I will die. Before dying, at least use some residual heat. It has been too hard for Mr. Bach to support himself all these years. "

"Isn't this great?"

Albert smiled: "I went to the monastery in the backcountry, you were exiled to the dark world, and we all have a bright future! Long live the Holy City!"

"Stop talking about this and have a drink."

Wagner sighed, "Give me a drink too."

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

"Which one do you respect?"

"It doesn't matter who you are. It doesn't matter who you are."

"Okay, your Majesty the Pope."

Wagner smiled bitterly, "Cheers!"

Drink it all in one gulp.

After putting down the glass, Wagner was stung by the low-quality alcohol and couldn't help but take a big breath. Then he coughed violently, which was heartbreaking. He vomited thick phlegm, but couldn't breathe.

The air here was so bad that it aggravated his asthma and lung disease.

Albert shook his head, stood up, deftly took out the respirator from his breast pocket, pried open his teeth, and stuffed it into his mouth arrogantly:

"suck!"

Soon, Wagner finally relaxed and slumped in his chair, his face still stained with choking tears and snot, and his demeanor was completely lost.

Albert shook his head and drank to himself: "You have been like this since you were a child. You are so weak. If I want to take you to a place of depravity, I have to worry about you dying immediately. Can you please save some people's worries?"

"He's going to die anyway, so there's no need to worry anymore."

Wagner wiped off the stains on his face, smiled indifferently, and stood up:

"I go first."

"Well, get out of here, get out of here."

Albert waved his hand impatiently: "I'm too lazy to wait until you leave to send it to you. The drink I just had is just a farewell to you."

Wagner smiled, said nothing more, just patted Albert on the shoulder, turned and left. But when he walked to the door, he heard a hoarse voice coming from behind.

"Hey, Wagner!"

"Um?"

Wagner turned around and saw Albert.

The old man was sitting under the dim light, with sparse white hair, smiling stupidly, looking at himself with drunken eyes. For some reason, Wagner suddenly felt a little sad.

"Does my skirt look good?"

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

"..."

Wagner's expression froze. He turned around angrily and walked away: "Mom, you're retarded!"

Albert was left alone in the bar, laughing.

Smiling like a retard.

——

Don’t worry, no more abuse, I’ll give you all the big news tomorrow.