Chapter 1250 - 614: Crushing Like Dry Weeds (Part 2)

To his surprise, after inquiring, he found that the other party was no more informed than those adventurers just now.

"I truly apologize, Mr. Xia Nan."

The tavern’s owner spread his hands with a bitter smile.

"There seems to be some situation at the border, but it’s only in the past two days that news has trickled in, and the recruitment order was issued just last night."

"As for what exactly happened there... it might take a while before I could possibly know."

Although reputedly well-informed, tavern owners like him essentially only consolidate intelligence circulating among adventurers.

If even the adventurers coming and going from the town have no clue about the issues at the border, those so-called intelligence merchants can’t possibly know beforehand.

He also asked the tavern owner about information regarding Blood Castle and meanwhile booked a luxurious guest room at the tavern.

After finishing this unsatisfactory meal, Xia Nan turned around and left the tavern.

Bad news: Frogon had already left Salt Rock Port five days ago, so even though he arrived on time, they couldn’t meet.

Good news: Frogon would be staying at Blood Castle for a few months, and it would take an estimate of just over ten days from Salt Rock Port to get there.

This meant Xia Nan could indeed rest at Salt Rock Port for a few days as mentioned in the barbarian’s letter, replenishing all the supplies exhausted from ocean survival earlier and gathering strength before setting out again.

During the meal, he’d inquired about the locations of a few reliable grocery stores in town from the tavern owner.

Xia Nan contemplated his upcoming plans as he walked along the street.

But it took only ten minutes of walking before a commotion from the other side of the street caught his attention.

His gaze instinctively turned towards it.

He saw five or six burly men, clad in tight short clothing with cheap tattoos on their exposed skin, surrounding a familiar figure, forcefully dragging them into a nearby alley.

He didn’t know the cause, and he never liked to meddle.

But having met the person earlier who helped him a little, he had no reason to stand by.

His footsteps shifted, moving closer immediately.

...

...

"Bang!"

In the dimly lit narrow alley, a dull sound echoed from the collision of bones and flesh.

Accompanied by a deliberately suppressed groan, a slender figure in patched linen clothes was forcefully pushed onto the muddy, filthy ground.

Wensar struggled, leaning against the stone wall, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his left eye slightly swollen and bruised, clearly having taken a few hits.

His rough linen clothing had torn during the scuffle, exposing lean but distinctly muscular lines showing signs of training.

His right hand held a dagger that seemed long neglected, slightly rusted; from the grip posture and the calluses on his palm, it was clear that he had undergone extensive combat training before.

This wasn’t surprising.

Despite being from a fisherman’s background, anyone wanting to survive in the vast, free, yet lawless ocean had to learn some practical combat techniques from elders not to be devoured completely by those whose identities shift between "pirate" and "fisherman."

But right now, facing the five fierce figures blocking the alley exit, the young man didn’t make any move to counter.

He clenched his teeth, gripping the dagger tightly, then relaxed, with humiliation and anger flashing in his gray-blue eyes, soon overshadowed by confusion and defeat, his fighting spirit sinking.

"Kid, do the math, how many months has it been?"

A stocky thug with a crew cut and a face full of flesh appeared to be a petty leader, mockingly fingering his short fingers.

"Four whole months of protection fees, and I haven’t seen a copper coin."

"Do you think our boss is easy to deal with, or does your broken dagger scare anyone?"

After saying so, the group of thugs behind him responded with a burst of mocking laughter.

One tall and thin man stepped forward deliberately, glancing at the dagger in Wensar’s hand, sarcastically said, "Look at this wimp, holding a knife but I’ve never seen you use it, probably hasn’t even touched blood."

The petty leader sneered, deliberately stomping to splash filthy, murky water on Wensar, leaning down, and threatening:

"Our boss, York Shaw, have you heard of this name?"

"A senior adventurer registered with the Association at Suo Yu Bay, everyone in town knows his reputation. Those who break the rules only end up as fish feed."

With that, the thug leader paused, then scornfully grinned, revealing crooked yellow teeth: "But I’m reasonable, can’t pay, fine, but you’ll need to offer something else as collateral!"

"I recall you have a sister, doesn’t she? She probably looks decent, how about offering her, that’ll cover half a year’s debt."

No sooner had the words dropped than Wensar abruptly raised his head, fury flooding his gray-blue eyes, his grip on the short dagger tightened, muscles bulging.

But the next second, he seemed to remember something, and his gaze dimmed, his fingers slowly loosened around the dagger handle.