Chapter 240 Bounty Hunter

Night falls.

The hunter's bar was filled with noise again.

As a distribution center for bounty hunters on the bright side and one of the entrances to the mysterious world in the dark, there will never be a shortage of guests here.

Just this bar alone can provide the Vulture with a profit of more than 500 pounds per month. No wonder Mag will hold on to this place.

Aaron didn't go to the Black Queen, he just sat in a corner of the bar with a glass of mead in front of him, thinking silently in his heart.

'If it's just the profit from selling beer, then even Balking can't make 500 pounds a month until he dies, unless every mysterious person is stopped to collect tolls, and they can't enter the Moving Castle from the other 19 entrances... '

‘This is of course unlikely, so the biggest source of income for the Hunter Bar before was the platform for becoming a bounty hunter. It issues tasks to the bounty hunters, and can even collect bounties on their behalf and harvest from it…’

The composition of bounty hunters is very complex, including resigned police officers, desperate strong men, hopeful young people, part-time part-time detectives, desperate gangsters themselves, and even some Extraordinary people who are new to the mysterious world!

Most of them have the need to keep their identities secret, which gives the platform of Hunter Bar the soil for survival.

Of course, trust is also very important, because the well-informed bounty hunters already know that the Hunter Bar has changed its owner.

It is hard to say whether they will continue to trust the platform of bars.

Aaron took a sip of mead and watched William and Isabette, dressed in black and white waiter uniforms, struggle through the crowded bar.

Every now and then, a drunk guy slaps Isabette's plump buttocks so hard that the waitress can't say anything but try to kill with her eyes - which often doesn't scare off at all Harassers get more whistles and foul language.

"boss……"

Balkin personally took the tray and served Aaron a stack of muffins: "It looks like the two newcomers are doing okay..."

He was used to this kind of thing.

In fact, most of the waitresses in the bars around here have part-time jobs as street girls, and as long as they are willing to spend enough money, they can take them away.

Isabette must have some consciousness in her heart when she chose to work in such a place.

Of course, in the Hunter's Bar, although Aaron doesn't care about this, he also stipulates that it must be done after get off work, and it can't be forced.

'Oh...the quality of this population needs to be improved urgently...but that's not right, men drink alcohol, basically this kind of virtue...'

Aaron disagreed with the statement that men of all ages in previous lives liked 18-year-old women.

Obviously, the vast majority of men only like one kind of woman - that is beautiful!

At this time, the door of the bar was suddenly pushed open, and a big man with short hair came to the bar with another person in his hand, as if he was carrying a chicken.

The bar suddenly became quiet, and the drunkards who were blocking the road of Dahan ran away in a hurry, and some people whispered the name of the Dahan: "It's 'Mad' Carl... It is said that he was chased by the 'Blood Snake Gang'. It hasn't been thrown into the Dossom yet."

"Not only that, you can see that he has a 'savage' Buffel worth 15 pounds!"

The few bounty hunters who were obviously leaner and didn't smell much alcohol, looked at Aaron who stood up and came to the bar with deep eyes.

This just allows them to verify that the Hunter's Bar is still the same as before!

"This gentleman... here we are..."

William Shire stepped forward with a smile on his face, but was pushed away before he could finish speaking.

With a bang, Buffel's head was knocked heavily on the bar, and drops of blood fell along the edge of the table.

“Have a glass of Welsh with ice!”

Carl's voice is low, his facial features are deep, his nose is high, full of personality, and his blue eyes seem to be full of madness.

'Sure enough, he's a lunatic... Although bars also undertake this kind of work, they usually come to the bar first to check the password, and then do it secretly in the back alley. How can they come so directly? ’

Aaron had an intuitive understanding of the madness of the bounty hunter named 'Carl', and his expression remained unchanged: "We no longer sell 'Welsh with Ice' in this store, please say 'Have a Mojito' in the future! As for Taking the commission, we are one-third cheaper than before..."

According to Balkin, the business of collecting bounties on behalf of the 'vultures' used to charge three-tenths of the handling fee.

After Aaron made the call, he lowered it a bit, and one-fifth was enough.

Carl stared at Aaron like a wolf.

The feeling of being watched by predators didn't frighten Aaron, but made Isabette next to her cover her lips, as if she was about to cry the next moment.

After less than ten seconds of confrontation, Carl nodded and said calmly, "Then give me a mojito!"

Aaron poured a glass of boiled water at random and placed it in front of Carl, and at the same time drew out 12 banknotes with a denomination of 1 pound and pressed them under the glass.

"The previous owner would at least send a Welsh beer."

Carl muttered, raised the water glass and drank it, pocketing the money under the glass.

"It used to be before, now, the rules have changed."

The smile on Aaron's face didn't change, and he gave Balkin a color.

Balkin immediately stepped forward and asked William to help drag the unconscious Buffal all the way to the back kitchen.

Not long after, Aaron also came in, looked at the 'prey' on the ground, and said to Balkin: "Send him where he should go, and then collect the money... If you encounter a defaulter, don't bother, come back and tell me !"

It's good that he doesn't collect taxes, no one in this world can rely on his money!

"Yes, boss!"

Balkin didn't know why, but his body suddenly trembled, feeling that the temperature seemed to be lower today, and quickly agreed loudly.

"Alas... this damn era, forced me to become a middle-class."

Aaron sighed in a joking tone.

In this era, the rentier class who did not do any labor at all and only relied on land or investment to make profits was generally regarded as the upper class by society and newspapers and magazines.

And those who rely on mental labor to get paid, in the eyes of the nobles, are still selling their labor, so they do not enter the upper class!

As for those who sell their physical strength to make a living, they are the workers and peasants.

In the end, those who have no job and can only rely on begging and relief will be expelled from the ranks of human beings.

Being expelled from the ranks of people is not a good thing.

For example, in the eastern ancient times of the previous life, the 'people' in the eyes of Confucian scholars were at the lowest level of ordinary people, that is, the level of self-cultivation farmers.

As for the next tenants, servants and the like, they have been expelled from the ranks of "people", so they can be treated like pigs, dogs, cattle and sheep.