"Oh, I can't believe it! This is incredible!!! In just one night—no, in such a short time—we didn't do anything but stand in the tavern, and we actually made six Aurises! You should have seen the look on Iron Shackles's face..."
After Zhang Heng and the Patrol Team left the tavern, a young patrolman named Babir could no longer hold back and shouted excitedly.
This was probably the most glorious night he had experienced since joining the Patrol Team. Especially when Zhang Heng told Iron Shackles, "Thirty percent. Not one copper less," everyone present had heard an unquestionable authority in the Easterner's words.
It was as if the Patrol Team had hundreds or even thousands of men lying in wait outside the tavern, ready to rush in and chop everyone inside to pieces at Zhang Heng's command.
Iron Shackles and his men looked at one another. Since when had those Patrol Team fellows become so tough?
Iron Shackles, who had borne the brunt of it, felt it most strongly. Sitting directly across from Zhang Heng, he felt as though the man before him was not a member of the Patrol Team at all, but the boss of one of the three major powers controlling this district.
A man like that could decide his life or death with a single word. Sweat even beaded on Iron Shackles's forehead. He realized that he simply could not refuse the other party's proposal—not that he was unable to, but that he could not bring himself to.
Only after Zhang Heng and the others had left did he awaken from the nightmare and notice that his right hand beneath the table was trembling slightly.
Zhang Heng did not go far. Shortly after leaving the tavern, he stopped and opened the purse containing six gold