Mystery: The Silver Key

Chapter 14 Brave Ones Bar

After discussing the operation plan and the time to meet that evening with Irving, Cyril returned to 93 Wildy Street. He still needed to make some preparations, figure out how to get some weapons for himself, and other ways to make money.

Robbing the gang was just a spur-of-the-moment idea; it wasn't a sustainable business. He just wanted to make some money while taking the opportunity to complete his role as an "apprentice."

He's already got a good idea of ​​how to actually make money and plans to try his luck later.

"If it weren't for Russell having explored every possible path for a time traveler, I wouldn't have fallen so low as to trick people into robbing gangs with me."

"Rossel, the nemesis of all time travelers. At the same age, while I was still struggling to make a living, he was already having in-depth conversations with noble ladies and young women."

"Damn it..."

As he muttered resentfully, he saw the door to the washroom at the end of the second-floor corridor being pushed open from the inside.

A young man with black hair and black eyes, thin and aloof, with a rather good appearance, stood behind the door frame, looking at him expressionlessly. No, he did have some expression, which was the helplessness, habit, and disdain of a top student towards a poor student.

If you ignore his clothes and demeanor, he and Sir Ryan are nine-tenths alike; if you include their demeanor, then they are only five-tenths alike.

Harvin Gray, the twin brother of Cyril Gray and the only academic achiever in the family, is a physics student at Backlund University.

"Why haven't you gone to school?"

Cyril looked at him with surprise. He remembered that his twin brother had a very heavy workload, which was why he would occasionally ask him to take his place in class so he could sneak out and relax.

Harvin Gray, standing behind the door, put his gold-rimmed glasses back on his face, quickly scanning him up and down, his expression slightly relaxed.

"I met Professor Fils at school and found out that your life at home alone was so exciting, and you even took advantage of that to get such a long vacation from Professor Fils."

"You'd better not go to that club anymore. Your father and mother are still in East Chestershire and won't be back until the end of the month at the earliest, so they've decided to have your sister come back to take care of you for a while."

When Haven spoke of taking care of them, she emphasized her voice. Although it was Xi Ruien who was in trouble, this kind of care was obviously aimed at both of them at the same time. Their free life, with their parents and older sister not at home, was about to be gone.

"..."

Familiar faces flashed through his mind, and Cyril sighed silently in his heart... In the end, he still had to face the problem he wanted to avoid the most. No wonder transmigrators liked being orphans so much.

He paused, then skipped the topic and casually asked, "So you didn't go to class because you skipped it?"

Ha Wen: ....

Cyril waved his hand and changed the subject again: "Never mind, do you have any money? Lend me some."

Ha Wen looked at him with an "I knew it" expression: "How much do you want to borrow?"

After some thought, Sirion gave a conservative estimate: "100 pounds?"

Ha Wen's expression visibly stiffened for a moment, then he calmly said, "Repeat the last sentence."

Cyril: "Can I borrow some money?"

Ha Wen: "No, goodbye."

After saying that, without giving him a chance to speak again, Ha Wen quickly stepped past him, went downstairs, and then went out.

As Sirion watched the other person's figure disappear quickly, he opened his mouth, then silently exhaled.

He actually wanted to ask if the other party could use his connections with those professors in the Physics Department at Backlund University to get a pistol or even assemble a firearm himself from materials.

But considering that he didn't have a suitable reason and that it might arouse suspicion later, he ultimately didn't say it.

"Sigh, this brotherhood isn't even worth 100 pounds~"

With a sigh, he returned to his room, put on a shoddy disguise, took his only 10 pounds 13 sulphurs in savings, and then went out.

.....

Iron Gate Street in the Backlund Bridge area, Braveheart Bar.

As soon as he reached the center of Iron Gate Street, he saw a seemingly heavy black wooden gate and a burly man with arms that were nearly two meters long.

Whether it was his own special ability to create a powerful memory or Adam's help, even details that he had previously skipped over when reading books were now exceptionally clear to him.

For example, the exact location of the Brave Ones Bar right in front of us.

After the gathering of the Twilight Hermits last night, he was thinking about getting in touch with some extraordinary people as soon as possible, and this address popped into his head when he thought of the Brave Ones Bar and the old man with the "Eye of Wisdom".

When he saw the nearly two-meter-tall, burly man acting as a guard at the bar entrance, Sirion's heart skipped a beat. As an Asian, he had never seen a person of this size face-to-face before.

Even though he was already an extraordinary being, he still felt that his opponent could take on two of him with one punch.

He glanced at the other person calmly, then walked past them and pushed open the bar door.

The burly man guarding the door didn't react much, just like a stranger passing by on the street. He only swallowed slightly when he smelled the strong aroma of malt liquor coming from behind the door.

The bar was quiet at this time of day. At the bar, there was a bartender repeatedly wiping glasses and a man in a gray robe drinking the most ordinary beer as if it were fine wine. In the corner, there were two drunken customers and a staff member setting up tables and chairs.

To be honest, this is the most backward, even down-and-out bar I've ever been to. I was thinking that a bar in another world might have a unique charm, but I guess I'll pass now.

Thinking this, Sirien controlled himself to keep from showing any disgust or discomfort, walked to the bar, and casually dragged a high stool to sit down:

"A glass of South Wales beer."

He only remembered a few types of drinks, and it was impossible for such a bar to have high-end wines like Olmir red wine or Zunia blood wine.

"Five pence," the bartender replied familiarly.

Cyril handed over a 1 soule note, which the bartender took in exchange for a 7p note and a large wooden glass filled with golden liquor.

Cyril accepted the drink but not the seven pence the bartender offered. Instead, he chuckled and asked:

"I want to buy some unconventional items, and I heard there are such channels here."

"Sir, you may have been scammed. This is a legitimate bar."

As the bartender replied, he placed the 7p note in front of him.

Cyril's smile froze. This wasn't right. Shouldn't I be asked to find the person in charge of the shady business here?

As he was lost in thought, a hoarse, low voice, tinged with weariness, sounded beside him:

"Oh, 10 pounds, I'll take you there."

Cyril looked in surprise at the gray-robed man two chairs away from him. The face under the gray hood was so pale it seemed inhuman, and his brown eyes held a deep malice. The man exuded a sense of madness and repression.

As he focused his attention, he suddenly noticed the rich, understated spirituality emanating from the other person.

He is an extraordinary being, and of a high rank, with special methods or abilities to conceal himself; otherwise, I wouldn't have only noticed his strong spirituality now.

He paused, then asked with a hint of scrutiny, "Do you know what I want?"

The other person subtly curled the corner of their lips: "Of course, a reckless newcomer."

Sirion nodded slightly, then reluctantly took out the only 10 pounds he had and pushed it in front of the other person.

He was a little worried that the other party might deceive him. Of course, he wasn't worried about a trap, but rather that his only 10 pounds might go down the drain. As for encountering danger, the "apprentice" was no good at fighting, but he was an expert at running away.

Under Cyril's watchful eye, the grey-robed man pocketed the 10-pound note in front of him, then chuckled softly with a hint of pleasure:

"You're lucky, there's a gathering at noon today."

Cyril nodded slightly and brought the fragrant and tempting beer, which cost him 5 pence, to his lips.

It was very refreshing, with a bittersweet aroma, but he didn't like it. He had almost never drunk beer before; he preferred fruit wines and sake, which are alcoholic beverages.

It cost me 5 pence, so I can't waste it.

Thinking this, he took another big gulp, then frowned and put the glass on the bar. He still couldn't get used to this kind of drink, which he considered to be of somewhat inferior quality.

Looking at the half-full glass of liquor left, he thought to himself with a wry smile: Now I have another reason to make money, so I won't have to drink inferior liquor in the future.