I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 507 The Hanging Lasso
The Black Sable Tavern is hidden at the end of the most winding alley in the Treasure Island City dock area. Here, the air is always mixed with cheap beer, sweat, salted fish, and a kind of rotten, sweet, and cheap smoky aroma.

Although Taiwan has become part of Bagnia and a new police system has been established, due to time and history, it remains a legal blind spot and a den of shadows.

Aside from players, even locals are reluctant to come here because of the complex terrain and the fact that it's a place rife with filth and corruption.

"Wine, give me wine!"

"Another one, please..."

"You fucking bastard, how dare you spit on me!"

"Fight, fight, fight!"

The Sable Tavern was noisy, the deafening noise almost lifted the greasy, blackened ceiling. Most of the people gathered here were players from the black and gray world.

With more players, some things will naturally happen.

For example, in a corner of the pub, someone had set up a boxing ring with chairs and ropes, and many people gathered there to watch others box and place bets, making the pub very lively.

Amidst the noise, in a quiet corner at the far end of the tavern, barely partitioned off by a tattered screen, Rex, the veritable arms dealer and underworld tycoon of Treasure Island City's underground world, occupied the largest table.

Rex was a man as muscular as a bull, with a grotesque scar he had deliberately drawn across his left brow bone and disappeared into his thick beard.

The player was wearing an open linen shirt, revealing his hairy chest and bulging belly. He had two thick arms, one on each side, embracing two scantily clad, forced-smile maids. His rough fingers would occasionally knead their breasts and groins, eliciting soft moans from the maids that were hard to tell whether they were in pain or pleasure.

The table was a mess of cups and plates, with a tin plate of roasted meat and an overturned wine jug lying haphazardly.

Rex is enjoying his life now, and he really likes the 18+ game "Rise of Empires".

Here, he can use ruthless methods and a shrewd mind to build his own kingdom in this lawless land. Power, money, women, and the adrenaline-pumping atmosphere of violence all intoxicate him. This is the kind of carefree life he has always dreamed of.

Just then, the screen was gently pushed open a crack.

"It's one of Rex's NPC subordinates," a lean, monkey-like man with wary eyes peeked in and whispered.

"Boss, we have a customer who wants to discuss a pipe deal."

A glint of light flashed in Rex's cloudy eyes, and he then pushed away the maid beside him.

"Get out of here, we'll deal with you later."

The maids, who had been detained and suffering terribly, felt as if they had been granted a pardon and quickly tidied their disheveled clothes to hide away.

After the maid left, creating a space, a man wearing an inconspicuous gray cloak walked over.

The man's hat brim was pulled low, and his furtive movements made him stand out in the crowd. He walked to the table, but did not sit down. Instead, he slightly lifted the brim of his hat, revealing a tense and pale face. His eyes quickly swept over Rex and the bodyguards standing like iron towers behind him.

"Mr. Rex?"

His voice was deliberately lowered, with a slight, almost imperceptible tremor.

"I represent some..."

Rex raised his hand, interrupting the man's next words.

"You don't know the rules this time? Just state your purpose. I'm not interested in who you represent. All you need to do is come up with the money."

"Uh, okay, we need some... metal things that can make sounds, and quite a few of them."

Rex leaned back in his chair, picking his teeth with a thick wooden skewer, and squinted at the newcomer.

He noticed that the other person's knuckles didn't show signs of years of manual labor; instead, they looked like hands accustomed to holding a pen or sword hilt. "A metal contraption that can make a sound?"

Rex scoffed, casually tossing the wooden skewer onto the table in a rough voice.

"I have big machines here that can be heard throughout the entire dock area, and I also have little gadgets that can shut rats up in the gutter."

The key question is, are the silver dollars in your pocket loud enough?

The man in the gray cloak subconsciously pursed his lips, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Money is not a problem... as long as the goods are good.

He tried to sound calm, but his slightly constricted pupils betrayed his nervousness.

"not a problem?"

Rex leaned forward, his hairy elbows resting on the greasy table, and a mixture of smells of alcohol, sweat, and oppression wafted over him.

"I hate idiots who talk big but don't deliver. My rules are simple: inspect the goods, set a price, pay 30%... no, 50% as a deposit, and settle the rest after the deal is done."

"If you want to talk, let me hear the clinking of gold coins first."

The man seemed taken aback by Rex's directness and rudeness. After a moment's hesitation, he carefully pulled a heavy money bag from inside his cloak and pushed it in front of Rex, his movements carrying a restraint that seemed out of place in the environment.

Rex didn't even glance at the money pouch; he simply gave a wink to his subordinate beside him.

The lean subordinate immediately stepped forward, deftly untied the knot, reached inside and fiddled with it for a few moments, then pulled out a large denomination banknote issued by the National Bank of Bagnia. After rubbing it vigorously with his fingers, he nodded to Rex.

"Yes, there is some sincerity involved."

Rex softened his tone slightly, but his eyes remained sharp as knives.

"Tell me, what exactly do you want? When do you need it?"

The man in the gray cloak took a deep breath and lowered his voice to recite a string of numbers and the names of several specific weapon models, some of which were standard equipment in the Bagnian army, but others were modifications that clearly reflected the style of the old Minisian army.

Finally, he gave a delivery location and time in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city.

Rex listened silently, a cold smile playing on his lips. He had already guessed seven or eight parts of the origins and purpose of this group, but he didn't care. He was a player; as long as he had enough money, he could sell weapons to whomever he wanted.

"The price has doubled."

Rex spoke crisply and decisively, ignoring the other person's eyes widening instantly.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but when I ship goods, I have to risk having the court come knocking on my door. You either pay me the price, or get lost and take your money to those junk dealers who can’t even light a fuse.”

The man in the gray cloak paled even more. He had clearly not expected Rex to be so firm. After a difficult internal struggle, he almost nodded through gritted teeth.

"...Okay. But quality and delivery time must be guaranteed!"

"Hmph, I've made a living in this business by virtue of my reputation."

Rex waved his hand, as if shooing away flies.

"Three days from now, same place. Bring the rest of your money. Now you can get out of here and stop getting in my way."

After watching the gray-cloaked man disappear with a sigh of relief and hurried steps, Rex grinned, revealing a smile that was a mixture of greed and cruelty.

(End of this chapter)