After speaking, Quevedo looked at Erich and Karl. Although they remained impassive, they replied firmly: "Of course not, I'm not the type to betray a friend. My upbringing taught me that he who betrays a friend deserves no honor, and honor is paramount."
Upon hearing the assurances of his three friends, even though they had not sworn an oath, Furen instinctively believed that these friends were trustworthy.
However, Furen sighed and thought to himself, "Even if my friends who know my past probably won't betray me, the truth will eventually come out. Living in Trier and spending my time searching for Beyonder materials at Beyonder gatherings and markets like mine isn't a viable long-term solution. It's time to decide to leave Trier."
Seeing that his friends had kept their promises, Quevedo looked thoughtfully at Furen, as well as at Erich and Karl, who were usually silent, and said, "Let's forget about that. Let me tell you some interesting anecdotes about the world of mysticism that I've discovered..."
Seeing this, Furen also put aside his own thoughts and echoed Quevedo's accounts of his mysterious experiences, while Karl and Erich intervened from time to time.
About an hour later, Kadros stood up, coughed twice, and once calm had returned to the room, he said to the participants of the Beyonder Gathering: "Time is up, so let's end this Beyonder Gathering."
With that, Kadros sat down and watched the waiters usher the participants out one by one, while Quevedo led Furen and the others out of the room.
Once they arrived on the first floor of the tavern, Quevedo did not rush to take Furen and the others outside, but instead led them to the main bar.
It was already about eight o'clock, but the tavern was even more lively than Furen had ever seen it. Drinks were flying everywhere in the increasingly electric atmosphere, and at the gaming tables, players were still betting everything they had.
The largest bar was crowded. Quevedo stepped forward, clearing a path for Furen and the others, and led them to the bar owner, the wise old man.
The old sage was chatting cheerfully with the drunks around him. When he saw Quevedo arrive at the bar, he didn't rush to speak to him. After exchanging a few words with the others, he watched them laugh and drink with gusto, then excused himself and joined Quevedo.
Looking at Quevedo, the old sage chuckled and said, "So, how was the party?"
Quevedo smiled back: "Yes, the Beyonder parties promised by the old sage are always a success."
The old sage retorted, "I didn't organize them. I'm just a tavern keeper. The organizers of these parties are at best my tenants; the disturbances they cause are not my responsibility."
Quevedo did not immediately inquire about the passes for Furen and the others, but instead asked with interest, "So, your tavern parties caused problems too?"
The old sage chuckled, glanced at the enthusiastic drinkers around him, and replied, "Of course. Some criminals like to drink and party, and the police will block off the place to hunt them down. But, hehe, me, the old sage, who only supplies the house, I'm innocent, I'm not making anything up."
Quevedo frowned at the old sage's words; it was clearly the Church that had put an end to these extraordinary celebrations. The old sage always claimed it was because of criminals, but Quevedo added, "Yes, the old sage had nothing to do with it."
So Quevedo didn't hesitate any longer and said, "In that case, wise old man, are my friends' passes ready?"
The old sage was clearly waiting for Quevedo to make this decision, and he took three cards out of his pocket, saying, "Of course, the old sage is not only a boss, he is also an artist. I feel that the passes I draw are becoming more and more artistic."
Quevedo clearly didn't believe it. After taking the cards, he looked at them and suppressed a laugh, saying, "Yes, the old sage is an artist, so it's only natural that his paintings are becoming increasingly artistic."
Quevedo then handed the passes to Furen and the other two. Furen looked at his and, frankly, it was becoming increasingly artistic. The portrait was almost unbearable. An untrained observer might have mistaken it for a quarrel between the painter and the model. The main features were still discernible, even if somewhat ugly.
In his past lives as in this one, Furen had never seen his portrait so ugly. He could only let out a long sigh and sink into a long silence.
While observing his companions, Karl and Erich remained impassive, but Furen felt the atmospheric pressure drop inexplicably. Meanwhile, Quevedo, the culprit who bore at least half the responsibility, was still laughing cruelly.
However, Quevedo's laughter was short-lived. Karl and Erich snapped out of their reverie and glared at him. Quevedo seemed to sense the malice of the entire world directed at him, shuddered violently, and murmured, "Why am I a little cold? Ah yes, winter is coming soon to Trier."
Once his companions had recovered from their shock, Quevedo said to the old sage: "Old sage, we'll take this pass. We're leaving."
The old sage replied with a smile: "Very well, have a good trip."
Quevedo turned around, waved his hand and led Furen and the others out of the tavern.
Hawthorne Street was illuminated by a glow that brought it back to life after nightfall. Half of this light came from candles, the other half from newly installed oil lamps.
Clearly, the quality of these lamps left much to be desired; in fact, it was obvious that no genuine kerosene lamps could be found on this shopping street. The smell of kerosene permeated the entire street.
Although Furen wasn't entirely opposed to it, his long experience inhaling smog on Earth had made him quite averse to the smell. Quevedo, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy it. He took two deep breaths.
Then, turning to his companions, he said, "My friends, the air of Trier, day and night, is intoxicating. The daytime air is fresh but without charm, while the night air, though a little acrid, makes me feel the progress of humanity. Oh, let us thank Governor Rosell once again!" After finishing speaking, Quevedo inhaled deeply twice, which made Furen shudder.
Erich's lips twitched twice when he declared, "That smell comes from a poor-quality oil lamp. The oil lamps invented by Rosell didn't have that smell."
The author's expression suddenly transformed into four question marks: Is it toxic? (facepalm) Squid Girl released a new book today! Congratulations! My information network is truly excellent! (spiritual)
(End of chapter)