"Drink! Drink! Drink!"
Frenzied howling, pungent aromas, dazzling colorful lights, and weird moans all intertwined to create a warm and decadent atmosphere in a not very spacious tavern.
Boom boom boom~
They began to tap on the table in unison.
The old bastard sat curled up in a dark corner, holding a glass of wine, and scanning the interior of the tavern with a deep gaze.
His presence was very low, as if he had merged into the darkness.
This is the new pub he opened in Yong'an City. It's not very big, but there's no other way. Time is tight and the task is heavy...
In just half a month, his "intelligence tavern" was spread out from three or two cities to all human cities, and he had no time to choose carefully.
Fortunately, there are only fourteen human fortress cities left, otherwise we would not be able to complete the task assigned by our Lord at this time.
What a hell of a joke...
Thinking of the words "hell joke", the old bastard couldn't help but let out a meaningless laugh.
However, in addition to laying out the "intelligence network", there are other things to pay attention to...
The old bastard sighed instead.
The Goddess of Nature and Life are related, and all kinds of pollution similar to the "insect eggs" that I once encountered, and the reasons for the hostile actions of the gods...
These are directives given through oracles.
In addition, you need to serve the Holy City.
The movements and attitudes of the Divine Gracers, as well as various groundless rumors, the enemy's level and strength...
There were all kinds of troublesome intelligence, and many of the problems involved extremely high levels, so they could only be investigated carefully and covertly.
It would be troublesome if it were just that, the key point is that Old Turtle has now discovered that his "intelligence network" does not belong to him.
The transmission and communication of intelligence needs to be carried out through the "snowball", which is in the hands of the Holy City.
In this way, after building the "intelligence network", he himself became insignificant.
The Holy City must obtain any intelligence before him.
Moreover, many times, the "intelligence personnel" who were isolated from him and were supposed to be his "subordinates" were also happy to bypass him and report to the Holy City on their own.
The old bastard discovered that he was very likely to be replaced...
He once wanted to create a set of coded language to change the way intelligence agencies transmit information in order to completely isolate them from the influence of others.
Or, find a way to turn those "subordinates" into your own people...
He eventually dismissed these thoughts.
Just kidding, he's not stupid.
He neither controls "promotion" based on physical strength, which is a gift from the gods, nor "financial power", which is support from the Holy City.
Besides, do you really think that other people won’t pray directly to the gods?
Who would support him in doing such a thing?
His surging ambition was extinguished, and he began to actively seek to "establish merit."
As long as one reaches a certain level, he will naturally play an important role in salvation.
What should I do then?
Of course it is what the gods are anxious about!
Goddess of Nature... Twins... Pain, Pleasure...
The old bastard muttered to himself, pretending to use his normal arm to pick up the wine glass with his right hand, ready to take a sip.
Unexpectedly, the wine silently stretched out two winding transparent tentacles and rushed into his nasal cavity at a rapid speed.
Afterwards, the stimulating alcohol rushed down along the nasal cavity, throat, esophagus, stomach, and so on...
After a few seconds, the old bastard's pants began to get wet, and the strong liquor mixed with a strange smell dripped down the chair legs.
Bang!
The old bastard slammed the table, and the inconspicuous feeling of hiding in the shadows was destroyed.
His face flushed red as he glared at the bartender behind the bar—not out of anger, but because of the burning sensation of the liquor…
Hmm... it pierced through my body in a straight line...
This feeling is hard to describe.
Anyway, I can’t keep the pants anymore.
But you can give the stool to others.
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