Chapter 442 Shop
winter.
The snowflakes are falling.
Citizens on this continent, even the poorest, took out the last coin in their pockets to buy ribbons, food, sweet wine... to celebrate the arrival of the New Year.
Before we knew it, the year had come to 1603.
Kings City.
"Selling newspapers, selling newspapers!"
A newsboy with a red face, wearing a tattered coat, a peaked cap and a green cloth bag, ran through the street, shouting at the top of his lungs.
He saw frozen corpses being carried out of the alley by the corpse collectors and placed on carriages.
Among the corpses, some were bankrupt homeless people, and some were wearing work clothes and seemed to be unemployed workers.
At this time, they had all turned into cold and stiff corpses and were carried out of the city by corpse collectors for cremation.
Those factories belching out columns of black smoke were like devilish abysses that devoured lives.
The sky was gray and chilly.
The newsboy shrank his neck, shook off the snowflakes on his body, and continued to grit his teeth, walking through the snow with difficulty.
Bang!
The ground was too slippery and he fell.
As the newsboy lost his balance, he tried hard to raise his hands, making sure that the newspaper in his hands would not be stained, otherwise he would not be able to sell it.
"Young man...I want to buy a newspaper."
Fang Xian opened the door and saw a little kid standing in front of his door, holding a newspaper high. He couldn't help but smile.
"OK."
The newsboy quickly got up and brushed off the snow on his body.
Fang Xian handed over an iron coin, received a newspaper, and smiled: "Would you like to come in and sit for a while and have some hot tea?"
"I……"
The newsboy was about to refuse when a gust of cold wind blew by.
He shuddered all over, bent down and said, "Thank you, kind sir!"
"You can call me Mr. Roca."
Fang Xian made a gesture of invitation and went to the counter to make tea.
The newsboy looked up and saw the sign - 'Gothic Grocery Store'.
Walking through the glass door, the view was a little dim. Inside the store were rows of shelves filled with colorful paper, sausages, cane sugar, toffee, hairpins, bows, and all kinds of cups, plates, and decorations. The shelves were cluttered with everything, giving people the illusion that they would fall to the ground if they were not careful.
"Come, have a drink to warm yourself up."
Fang Xian smiled and handed over the teacup.
"Thank you... Mr. Roca, my name is Little Locke."
Little Locke held the cup in both hands, took small sips, and felt his body getting warm.
He took a long breath and began to look at the counter in front of Mr. Roca.
This counter is separated by glass, and it is obvious that the goods inside are more valuable.
Mr. Roca stood behind the counter with a smile on his face. The faint light coming in from the window was filled with a sense of historical mottledness and vicissitudes.
Something seemed to be moving in the shadow.
Little Locke rubbed his eyes quickly. He seemed to have seen a tentacle with a suction cup just now.
But now looking at it again, there is nothing at all, just a mass of darkness.
"Little guy, you seem to be quite interested in my collection." At this time, he heard Mr. Roca's words again.
"Yes."
Little Locke quickly lowered his head and pretended to admire the goods in the glass counter.
"Huh?"
He found that the goods in the counter were indeed very different from those on the shelves.
A doll made of straw, a necklace made of unknown animal teeth, and a black crystal ball with a strange bone claw base tray underneath...
In addition, there is a black cane of unknown material and several hardcover notebooks that do not look good.
"This is a voodoo doll from the nomadic peoples of the West, a necklace of the king from the land of the rising sun in the East, a crystal ball for divination... a cane of the underworld that can help people find money, but you have to be careful, the black ghost will come out at any time and scare you..."
Fang Xian introduced them one by one: "Of course, my most proud products are these books... One of them is my collection of poems!"
"Very...very good!" Little Locke instantly equated the owner of the Roca shop with the unscrupulous merchants he often saw selling small gadgets.
"How about it, young man? Today, all the treasures in our store are on sale at a 10% discount."
Fang Xian looked at little Locke and suddenly a strange smile appeared on his face.
…
Little Locke felt a little dizzy until he walked out of the store and was shocked by the snow and wind. Only then did he come to his senses.
"What did I do?"
He pressed his temple and felt a stabbing pain.
As the pressure continued, some vague memories emerged.
I seemed, it seemed, probably... I was persuaded by Mr. Roca to buy something?
He exclaimed and immediately reached for his pocket.
Only after he discovered that the only thing missing was the iron coin he had used to buy the newspaper did he breathe a sigh of relief.
He could still afford the cost of a newspaper.
"Huh?"
Little Locke touched his arms and found that a notebook with a black cover had appeared there at some point.
He vaguely remembered that he seemed to have bought the owner's collection of poems at a super-discounted price of one iron coin.
Little Locke opened the title page and wanted to see what the shop owner had written. As a newspaper boy, he still knew some words.
But unexpectedly, as soon as I opened the notebook, a feeling of dizziness hit me.
Hiss...
rustle……
Little Locke's ears were buzzing, like a radio with bad signal, receiving a lot of noise.
His throat was churning, he felt nauseous and wanted to vomit, so he quickly closed the notebook.
Little Locke didn't dare to look at the notebook again, nor did he dare to look back. He quickly wrapped his body and rushed into the wind and snow .
…
"The choice of fate..."
Fang Xian folded his arms, looking at the scene, a smile on his face.
He turned around, looked at the darkness, and opened a door casually.
The smell of blood wafted into my nose.
In the center of the secret room is an iron dissection table, covered with solidified dark brown marks all around, as if it has its own life and is wailing.
This is a mutation caused by being stained with too much blood of alien species.
On the surrounding wooden shelves, there are glass bottles containing various organs classified into different categories.
For example, Ghoul's Claw, Scale Man's Lung, Hound's Eye, etc...
These are some studies based on Hopkins' records.
Not until now did Fang Xian dare to say that he had completely mastered all the knowledge left by the deity Hopkinskin.
During this period of time, the Cult of the Lost God was also thriving, but the believers' day and night calls had almost no effect on the dormant calamity power.
This also made Fang Xian certain that if he called upon it so slowly, he would definitely not be able to recover his strength within two years, let alone make further progress.
When the end of the world comes, the ancient rulers will descend or awaken. They may not pay attention to ordinary people, but due to their status, they will most likely be noticed.
“So… that’s the only solution…”
