"Did you hear? The new cultist investigation law is already being implemented. If you don't choose a religion to wear the Holy Emblem on, you'll have to pay three times the normal income tax, and you might even be fired from your workplace. "
"… What cultist investigation? Isn't it just forcefully dividing the territory? Do you really think we're idiots? "
"I was stopped on the way here and fined two Divine Coins. It was even recorded. I heard that the next time I was fined, it'll be doubled, and I'll have to report to my workplace for the third time."
The Maleiden Bar was a rather famous bar in Vila Nova Dônia's west dock district.
Among the dock district's workers and coolies, this bar's self-brewed beer was famous for being cheap and excellent. But actually, this was only because the bar's owner was the boss. Compared to the other dockside bars, the bar's owners were much better off.
Today was Saturday afternoon, and tomorrow was their weekly holiday (evil church capitalists). The dock district's men had long since been prepared to spend the night here.
As they drank and chatted, they naturally started talking about the latest hot news.
The board of directors' reshuffling and new board members were nothing more than a political show on television to them. The adventurer's association was nothing more than a large supermarket opening up next door to them. Perhaps in the future, it would be even more convenient for everyone to look forward to such things.
On the other hand, the religious reform plan involved everyone.
Everyone had to choose a religion and wear the Holy Emblem. Of course, this rule couldn't be explicitly stated as dividing the territory (even if everyone knew this). And so, the evil gods and cultists who always took the blame mysteriously appeared once again to take the blame.
"Those who don't wear the Holy Emblem will be viewed as dangerous or evil? How ridiculous. "
"Still, it's nice to be able to receive Holy Communion worth 30 Divine Coins each month."
"Do you believe in a food-type God? I'm from the Eagle's Crest Church. They give me two train tickets to and from Cape Town every season. "
"That's really nice. As expected of a major church. These train tickets can be sold for at least 300 Divine Coins. But I heard that they're even selective. How did you get chosen …?"
Most citizens were just like the dock workers. Some were dissatisfied and some were complaining. After all, this was extra trouble. But even more than that, they were delighted at being able to benefit.
At this stage, he didn't need to do anything for the Church. As long as he worshipped the God of the Church, he would be able to receive monthly and quarterly benefits. It was quite a good deal.
It didn't seem like a lot, but if one counted the number of recipients and the fact that this was a long-term benefit that could only be increased and not decreased, one could see that the major churches were bleeding a lot in order to compete for believers.
The banquet was still going on. The workers drank too much and started to make a ruckus. Some played finger-guessing games while others wrestled. There were even some who started stripping.
Bart, the owner of the tavern, was not surprised. He had already ordered the waiter to pull out the tables and benches in advance to avoid unnecessary damage.
The weekends were always like this. Every time, the drunkards would cause a huge ruckus. Bart was in pain but happy at the same time. He was in pain because no matter how careful he was, the drunkards would still smash cups and plates on him. He was happy because of the sudden increase in sales and the fact that he could get a huge sum of compensation from the drunkards the next morning.
But today, Bart's expression was rather unhappy. He stood up early to dampen everyone's spirits.
"Bastards, stop making a ruckus. It's rare for me to rent out the entire second floor today. That's three times the rent. You've scared away all these idiot … VIP customers. Who's going to pay for my room? Do you think I can count on you drunkards to pay for moving bricks?"
"Your room that smells of stinky cheese and squid can be rented out? Three times the rent? Where did this idiot come from? "
"Room? I only know that there's a pig pen here. "
The noisy crowd was filled with disdain and disbelief. The rooms on the second floor of the tavern had been opened up and made into bunks for drunkards. Each bunk could fit seven or eight people, and the other bunks could fit three times the number of drunkards. Naturally, there would be those who would vomit after drinking too much. Since the owner was often too lazy to clean up, it was easy to imagine the stench.
Three times the rent? They could have found a nice hotel in the docks long ago. Why would they need to stay in a pig pen that even drunkards wouldn't want to go to?
"Ha, there's always idiot … smart people who know what's good for them. Not only did they rent it, they even rented it for half a month. They've already stayed upstairs for two days and haven't come down."
"Two days? Don't tell me they've already died from the stench. "
"It's been so long since I've been up there. I want to go and chat with them. Come, let's go up and collect their corpses."
"… Stop messing around! Let's go and welcome our new friends! Let's all have a drink together. "
The drunkards weren't afraid of anything now that the alcohol was in their system. They were only afraid that it wouldn't be lively enough.
The tavern was already quite boring to begin with. Now that everyone was trying to cheer them up, they went all out. When the crowd crazily rushed up to the second floor, they discovered that they were blocked by a wooden door that hadn't been there before.
* Boom! *
However, the wooden door was nothing in front of the power of alcohol. The crowd pushed and shoved, and the broken door was forced open.
"Brothers, it's fate that we met. Have a drink …"
"Stop messing around. Can't you see that there are seven or eight people inside? How can one cup be enough for you? Have a bucket."
The drunkards foolishly pushed the door open, only to discover that seven black-clothed individuals were also foolishly looking at them from the innermost room.
All the furniture in the room had been tossed to one side. There was only a bright red round stone in the center of the room, and a completely naked youth was lying on top of this crudely decorated altar.
A dagger was stabbed into the youth's chest, and fresh blood had already flowed onto the floor.
In the center of the altar, the blood formed a strange rune that was emitting a bright red glow.
After learning the common language from Bart for two months, he recognized the two evil and blasphemous dark runes.
"JACK (Jack)!"
To Rorschach, time of peace was always precious.
The Game Church needed time to mature and grow. The new members also needed time to familiarize themselves with their new positions. In the rapidly rising Game Church, every day was a new harvest.
New organizations, new squads, new squadrons. Every day, hundreds of new members would appear, and the same number would disappear.
The virtual world's battlefield was cruel and realistic. Ninety percent of the freshmen's combat experiences would be the result of being remade. Freshmen warriors, freshmen squadrons, freshmen tactics, freshmen comrades, and freshmen lovers on the battlefield … Cough, cough, it seemed that something strange had been mixed in. Still, it was true that couples who were born from this type of crisis mentality would quickly separate.
"Why are you a man or a woman?"
Especially now that the virtual world didn't limit real information, transvestite accounts were already a phenomenon … However, it seemed like some people had awakened because of this, and a few same-sex couples had appeared.
Cough — cough — let's get back to the main topic. It felt great to be able to gain something every day. However, there was a message that Roxia had just received that made him feel quite uneasy and confused.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
