Hickel

  Panny spent most of the day wandering around the streets, it's hard to imagine that he would find pleasure in something as mundane as window shopping, which is usually not of interest to men. With a sense of reluctance, he thought about his next task, which was to do business, and so he went to the Wujin Temple at the market entrance to offer a sincere prayer.

  It's embarrassing to say, but although he had long since determined his faith, this was still Panni's first time praying to his own guardian deity.

  Originally, Pan Ni's classmates were deeply influenced by the Marxist-Leninist education of the Heavenly Dynasty, and although they did not abhor the supernatural to the point of hatred, they kept their distance. However, in this life, after arriving in Ferran, a place where superpowers run amok, it is clear that materialism is no longer applicable.

  When he was in the cradle, he had heard that in the upper realm, there was a strange creature named Kluenwo who loved to discipline the souls ascending to heaven. If they didn't have a reliable guardian deity protecting them, these poor devils would be used as bricks to build a cement wall called "The Wall of Non-Believers" and suffer, slowly weathering into stone.

  Ben heard it at the time and was immediately furious. As a traverser, he absolutely believed in the soul. He didn't know which department his soul belonged to after death. His original ambition was to live comfortably and wait for death without causing trouble or having extreme ideas of fighting heaven, earth, and the world. So this kind of thing is better to believe it exists than not, and must find a guardian god to shelter him.

  His parents were merchants, and they worshipped Wogin. Panini chose this deity as the goddess of commerce. He was well aware that with his outlook on life, he could never brew up any devout beliefs. This behavior was more like a transaction: I offer you sacrifices, and in return, don't let me be turned into bricks by Klawvo's little brothers after I die. It fits Wogin's teachings perfectly; whether or not Wogin believed it didn't matter, Panini did.

  I don't know if this behavior is acceptable to the Golden Goddess, but when Penny prayed, he wasn't chased away by the Golden Priest, so I guess the Female God has acknowledged him. He doesn't know whether it's because his faith conforms to the doctrine or the coins he threw into the donation box had an effect. Anyway, from now on, he can loudly recite "Female God bless" with the Golden Goddess' name attached.

  But I guess there won't be too many at that time.

  Penny walked back to 'Xilin' at sunset, the door had been boarded up and a closed sign was hung, but the dirty and old sign on the door hadn't been taken down. Seeing this, Penny felt secretly resentful in his heart, wanting to make money, how could they use this broken sign? Were those people trying to deceive him?

  He was getting angry, when he suddenly noticed a man leaning against the wall at the door, and couldn't help but take a closer look. The man looked like an artist who used to perform street art in the last generation, with a black cloak that was tattered and worn out, with several strips of rotten cloth hanging down, his face hidden under a hood, and dirty hair hanging down from his head.

  If one word could be used to describe the first impression this person gave Penny, it would be "down-and-out".

  "Boss." Just then Damon appeared out of nowhere, Penny pointed at him and asked the performance artist: "Who is this?"

  "Oh... it's him." Damon cast a sideways glance at the drunkard, his expression full of disdain: "He comes every day at noon and usually leaves in the middle of the night. He always orders a pot of wine, which can last for over ten hours."

  "Come every day? For how long?"

  "It's been half a year, I suppose." Damon calculated for a moment.

  "Open the door and let him in, sell him some wine." said Panni after a moment of hesitation.

  "Little boss, are you kidding me?" Damon was shocked and stuttered: "Th-this...th-this..."

  For a moment, I don't know what to say. The people in the tavern have no good impression of this 'old customer' at all. Normally, they would receive him with professional ethics, but now that they are closed, how can they make an exception for him? And they still need to trouble the bartender to take care of him.

  "Boss... this guy is useless, those wandering poets' poems are unreliable, there aren't that many fallen heroes in the world..." Damon thought of a possibility, guessing that this beardless little boss had read too many heroic epics and wanted to persuade him from this angle.

  "How can you be so sure that there's definitely none?" Penny gave the old man a sideways glance, showing little respect for his age. Damon fell silent, recalling what the master had said - that this young boy was in charge of all matters at the tavern. He had discovered it early that morning when the master brought him along, and his gloomy face had an intimidating aura to it, causing Damon to lose his courage to speak up for a moment.

  It has to be said that these eight years of college life have given Penny many qualities that are hard to change.

  "Wait, what's with this sign? Why don't you change it?" Seeing Damon about to leave, Penny hastily called him back and pointed at the old, tattered, and worn-out sign that looked like a scribble.

  "This...". The old man's face suddenly became extremely embarrassed: "Boss, I forgot to tell you, you'd better come in and take a look yourself."

  Is there something hidden? Penny followed into the tavern and saw that all the tables and chairs on the first floor of the tavern were neatly stacked to both sides, with a single table in the middle facing the main door. This formation immediately reminded Penny of the Red Robe Master's trial eight years ago, which had a strong spiritual pressure. Seeing it again after eight years really made his heart beat slightly faster.

  "Are you the new servant that person has brought in?!" A delicate hand slapped the table, and a forceful question burst out from behind it. The speaker was a girl about Pan Ni's age, with a clear voice, warm and smooth skin the color of light ancient bronze, and cheeks that shone like pure gold. Her long hair was curled, and her slender figure was evident under her thin clothes. Her two blue eyes glared fiercely at Pan Ni's long gown, as if there was some deep hatred between them.

  Pan Ni was taken aback for a moment, and after carefully examining the young girl from head to toe, he felt an ominous premonition. He asked, "Miss, what's your surname?"

  "Hmph!" The girl gave Penny a glance, clearly not deigning to answer the question. Old Damon cleared his throat and leaned in close to Penny Sien:

  "This is Hickory, the young master's elder sister."

  Penny's right eyelid twitched twice.

  "Listen up, servant, without my orders, it's best not to touch anything here."

  "Ah, this... uh, lady, I work for Mr. Jenkins, but I'm not his servant." Penny, though stunned by the girl's identity, was starting to get a headache from the fact that this job wasn't as easy as she thought it'd be, and even more so because of the other's tone, coolly reminding her: "My job is managing this tavern, but it doesn't include taking orders from you."

  "What a big nerve you have!" Hickel shouted angrily: "Listen, I'll get rid of you."

  "That's for Mr. Jenkins to decide." Pennie also got angry, finally knowing who was giving himself eye medicine, and didn't even notice the expression on old Damon's face beside him, and said very angrily: "And my only job before I roll away is to make this tavern profitable, take down the sign outside, Damon!"

  The last sentence was spoken in a suddenly serious tone, and the old man immediately stiffened: "Yes."

  "You dare! If you want to move that signboard, step over my dead body first!" Hickory burst out, striding two steps to the doorway and shouting in a shrill voice.

  Although the girl didn't have any magical powers, Penny was still shocked. Through the strong emotions in her words and those extremely intense eyes, he felt that there wasn't much of a threatening tone in what she said.

  But he got angry too, was it worth it? It's just a signboard!

  "YOU!" Penny Sien and Hickory Jahn's four eyes, all blazing with fire, converged on a single point in the center, as if spewing out a large amount of electric sparks, and the surrounding temperature seemed to have risen sharply.

  "Remember what I said, and another thing, I hate that zombie skin on you the most. You will definitely roll away, I guarantee it!" After staring for a while, Hickel Janssen narrowed his eyes, turned around and ran upstairs with a 'thud thud thud' sound.

  "Corpse skin?" Penny Sien glanced at the black robe on his body, feeling that it was indeed quite ominous. However, he had worn this style of clothing for several years and had grown accustomed to it, unable to think of any other clothes to replace it. Moreover, the previous scene had left him with a lingering headache, making him feel that it would be difficult for this hotel to make money.

  "Boss, it's better not to touch that sign." Old Damon cautiously leaned in: "Two years ago, a hired bartender thought the sign was old and repainted the words on it. Then..."

  "And then?" Penny Sienn raised an eyebrow.

  "And then there was no then." Damon's tone shifted.

  "What can I do then?"

  "Do your best." Damon sighed helplessly, as if he also felt that Penny's prospects were uncertain.

  "Besides, when Mr. came, why didn't I see her..." Remembering the girl's hatred for Zombie Pi, Penny seemed to have suddenly grasped the key.

  "Boss, you're really clever," Damon said.

  Penny finally came to her senses, and then her headache gradually became a regular occurrence.

  "Bartender? Bartender?" came a knocking sound from the bar, Penny and Damon looked over at the bar to see the disheveled customer who had just walked in lightly knocking on the counter, his voice was not loud, but full of depression. It wasn't until then that Penny remembered their original bartender had been scared off by Janson's stunt, seeing Damon's caught-off-guard expression, she had no choice but to walk behind the bar herself: "Hello, what can I get you?"

  A can of Lowenbrau beer.

  Penny scanned the rows of bottles below, six shelves packed with over a hundred ceramic jugs. Which one was the precious Losh Mountain Stout? She looked to Old Damon for help, but he just shook his head: "Maybe it's on the third row, left side."

  Penny handed him a can and he sniffed it, wrinkling his brow: "This is French red wine, I couldn't afford it."

  Pangni glared at Old Damon.

  "These bottles are arranged in a way that only the bartender knows." Old Damon was very innocent.

  "Never mind, unofficial business, please go ahead." Panni weakly let out a breath and pushed the wine jug towards the hooded guest.

  The Cloak Guest glanced at Penny for a while, then picked up the wine jug and left: "...... You still keep accounts."

  Pan Ni turned around and looked at the counter, and indeed saw a sign that read "No credit or loans are allowed in this store".

  The following time was quite boring, Penny asked Old Damon about the arrangement of her accommodation, went upstairs to fetch a few books on magic and came downstairs, sat behind the bar and read for a while, suddenly felt it difficult to calm down, looked around, those two bartenders were listless, occasionally glanced at themselves, their eyes were also very strange, but obviously there was no respectful look, however, Penny thought of that Miss Hickel, acknowledged that she couldn't afford to offend her, opened the door and was educated for a while, it's no wonder that she had no prestige.

  The hooded customer drank a pot of red wine until midnight, left the money for a can of Loshan stout, and walked away unsteadily. Penny never discovered what made this decadent guy special, even with his super intuition, so he had to think that he was overthinking it. A fallen hero like him wasn't someone you could easily run into on the streets.

  Penny's mood became increasingly depressed.

  A pub like this, hoping to make money is no better than asking Sister Wa Jin for a lottery ticket.

  No way, I have to talk to her.

  Pang Ni made up her mind: tomorrow she must have a talk with this seemingly difficult young lady.

  (A new week, daily three requests: click, recommend, collect; and thank you all book friends for your support)