Goblin Dependency
Chapter 311 - 164 Iron Bucket Toad_2

Chapter 311: Chapter 164 Iron Bucket Toad_2

He took a step forward and went straight to the bar counter.

"What would you like to drink?"

The speaker, positioned behind the bar, was an elderly man in his fifties or sixties, with white hair at his temples.

Despite his age, he exuded a vigor not common among the elderly in this world.

His eyes were particularly bright, and the muscles bulging between his sleeves slightly lifted the fabric, his body strong like that of a young man in his twenties.

— Known as "Stubborn Donkey," the owner of the Iron Bucket Toad Tavern.

Having done some homework before coming, Xia Nan immediately recognized the man’s identity.

Sitting at the bar, he glanced over the menu:

"A serving of stew, two pieces of wheat bread, a jug of dark beer, hmm... and a serving of cream mushroom soup."

It was already noon. After spending the entire morning at Harriet’s place for an Association task, Xia Nan was thinking of finding a restaurant for lunch.

It happened to be the right time.

As for the alcohol, even though it was during a task, with his constitution, a single glass wouldn’t have any effect, and it could even help him gather information from the opposite party later on.

As for the mushroom soup...

Since it was on the menu, why not order a dish?

"1 silver and 3 copper."

He fished out a few coins from his purse and handed them over.

Sitting at the bar, Xia Nan quietly waited, pondering how he should approach asking for information about "Buck" later.

Should he be direct, or perhaps a bit subtle?

Should he give a tip? After all, he was asking for help. Five silver, seven silver, or just a Gold Coin?

Or maybe not rush and just chat casually to leave an impression.

Wait until the tailor shop closes in the evening, and have Jeff bring him back again.

He remembered Jeff mentioning before that he had some acquaintance with "Stubborn Donkey," the owner of the Iron Bucket Toad, and might be able to ask for help.

While pondering, Xia Nan subconsciously observed the tavern he was in.

The hall was quite large, nearly twice the size of the White Sparrow at a glance.

But the interior was ordinary, nothing commendable, and even seemed a bit messy, with only one or two women in servant clothes sweating profusely as they moved around.

The adventurers in the hall, compared to those in River Valley Town, seemed to be missing something, almost as if....

Xia Nan paused abruptly, his gaze landing on a cold, isolated corner of the hall.

Before his eyes was a middle-aged man in black leather armor, ordinary-looking with an extremely weak presence.

"Yo, what a coincidence?"

Recognizing the man at a glance, a smile crept onto his face.

Xia Nan stood up and walked straight over.

...

...

At the same time.

On the other side of the Iron Bucket Toad Tavern.

Beside a table filled with cheap liquor bottles.

"Hoo... hoo..."

Like the last drop of clear water for a lost traveler in the desert.

Walker lay facing the sky, mouth agape, exposing his yellow-brown rotten teeth, with a drop of sparkling liquor suspended at the mouth of the glass bottle above his tongue, sticky with saliva.

"Drip."

The liquor fell.

Walker smacked his lips forcefully as if savoring this last delightful taste.

His right hand reached for his waist pouch, only to find it empty.

Unwillingly, he shook each of the bottles on the table in front of him, confirming that there was no liquor left.

The middle-aged man with a flushed face, reeking of alcohol, seemed to lose all vitality at once, slumping onto the table, ready to pass out.

Suddenly, there was a hard sensation on his chest.

As if remembering something.

He yanked open his collar, pulling out a bundle wrapped in black cloth from inside his clothes.

Pincering the cloth open with his fingertips, he could vaguely see two twisted, upward-curving corners inside.

His gaze fixed on the bottles behind the bar, and he swallowed.

Walker tucked the bundle back into his arms, mustering the strength to prop himself up on the table and wobbly stood to leave.

However, after just a couple of steps, a sudden force from the side caused him to lose his balance and fall to the ground.

The cold sensation of the tavern floor and intense pain emanated from his spine.

In his ears were the crisp sound of bottles falling from the table and the sound of mocking laughter.

Already in a haze from alcohol, this encounter ignited a nameless fury in Walker’s heart.

He picked up a bottle, opening his mouth to curse with a classic street vulgarity.

But then, as he stood up and saw the faces of those in front of him.

It was as if cold water had been poured over him, extinguishing his anger in an instant, leaving only cold dread.

Standing before him were not drunken patrons or misbehaved children.

But several burly, tattooed men with fierce expressions.

The one who deliberately knocked him down and mocked him was a bald, muscular man leading the group.

"Gray Badger Gang!"

Walker tensed suddenly, as if the original drunkenness dissipated in an instant.

The bottle in his hand slowly lowered, and the curse at his throat was forcibly swallowed, a stiff, ugly smile stretched across his face.

"Sorry... hic, sorry, sirs, I didn’t see when I got up and bumped into you."

Apparently experienced in handling such situations, he lowered his head, bent over, and assumed the humblest posture.

As expected.

Seeing him act like this, the bald man who was laughing and waiting to see a joke frowned, losing interest.

"Mad, how unlucky!"

He aimed a kick at Walker’s chest and abdomen.

"Get lost, don’t let me see you on this street again!"

"Hey, hey!" Walker was kicked to the ground, he rolled forward, tucking the bundle back into his arms as he did so.

Then, clutching his stomach, bowing and nodding, he hurried out of the tavern.

Behind him came the voices of the Gray Badger Gang members.

"Boss, did that old guy offend you before?"

"What’s up, you don’t recognize useless Walker?"

"Walker? The one whose wife died from drinking dirty water?"

"But I thought he still had two little ones at home, how did he end up like this?"

"Tsk tsk, all his hands and feet are intact, can’t he find a way to earn some food? Yet he’s buried in alcohol, living off the little ones selling newspapers to earn money."

"Although we Gray Badger Gang haven’t done any good, if I see any of our members being a disgrace like this old thing..."

"Don’t worry boss, there are no cowards in our Gray Badger Gang!"

"I’d rather die from hard work than turn into a useless bum like him!"

"..."

His steps quickened instinctively, his stumbling, swaying silhouette looking more wretched.

In front of so many people, the taunts from the Gray Badger Gang members sounded unbearably piercing to Walker at that moment.

Within his heart arose a complex emotion mixed with resentment, regret, guilt, and sadness.

But the next moment, as he panted heavily.

The aroma of the alcohol in the air flared into his nostrils with every breath, seeping into his heart and lungs.

Recalling the cool, pleasurable sensation as the liquor rolled over his tongue, the aroma lingering in his mouth, as if he was in a beautiful dream, forgetting all his troubles as if time itself accelerated with enchanting glee.

The guilt and regret he initially felt faded away completely.

Leaving only a deep, dark desire driven by instinct, propelling his body.

He touched the bundle in his arms through his clothes.

The image of the ugly yet increasingly intriguing statue inside flashed in his mind.

"I wonder how much silver coin it’s worth?"

"If only it could cover two months of my drinking expenses..."

Already in a semi-drunk state, his perception of the outside world was significantly diminished.

Therefore, Walker didn’t notice that.

After he staggered out of the tavern.

The few Gray Badger Gang members exchanged glances and quickly followed him.

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