Revelation

For many years, Brego Bloodthroat's sleep was dreamless, but recently he had been dreaming frequently.

Today, he dreamed of himself back in that dark cave again. The broken-toothed ogre appeared, burning gray-green powder and producing a purple smoke. Brego stretched out his right hand into the smoke, and watched helplessly as his arm gradually darkened, his muscles collapsed, and his bones were exposed. Next, he found himself lying in the center of the arena. The arena was empty without a soul, he got up and passed through the contestants' dressing room back to the underground passage, walking along the passage with invisible followers murmuring around him. He had a premonition that at the end of the dark corridor, he would see his long-lost hometown. However, he woke up before reaching the end of the corridor.

Brego sat up from the floor. Since moving into the Sailor's Home, he always slept on the floor because the bed squeaked as soon as he sat on it. Instead, his great sword always lay on the bed to keep the rats away. He tried to meditate to clear his mind of the remnants of the dream as soon as possible, but to no avail.

He knew he couldn't completely rid himself of the bloodthirsty desire in his heart. Whenever extremely anxious, he felt the need to fight and kill to calm himself. Seeing the blood drip from the blade, his tense muscles would relax. And this time, the honor of defeating his lifesaver went up in smoke, pushing his anxiety to the limit. But patience was still needed now because he had entrusted the possibility of solving the problem to two humans. If they messed up, he would still try his best to restrain his bloodthirsty urge, because even if this honor was gone, he would never allow himself to lose to the darker and more violent side of his heart.

There was a very faint knock on the door. Brego opened the door and saw the goblin housekeeper as usual, always bowing her head and hunching her shoulders before him. The first time she came to clean Brego's room and wanted to straighten the sheets, in order not to let her touch his great sword, Brego immediately grabbed it from the bed. As a result, she retreated several steps, staring at the imprint left by the great sword on the sheets, at a loss.

"What do you want?" Brego said.

"Master Brego, this." The housekeeper held out a letter with her right hand. The edge of the letter was clipped between her two fingernails, ready to fall with the slightest vibration.

When he took the letter, he felt that her whole body seemed to jump.

"Who gave you this?"

"Two guards. They said the sender wrote inside...Master Brego, can I leave now?"

"Go."

The housekeeper rushed to the stairs. Brego returned to the room, closed the door, and opened the letter.

The letter was written in orcish. The orcish script was originally simple and calm, but in this letter, it was strangely decorated with many ornate and flowing hooks and connecting strokes.

The invincible and highly respected Master Brego Bloodthroat:

Please accept my heartfelt congratulations on winning the crown at the Gladiatorial Games! Undoubtedly, your demeanor in this competition was so shocking that all spectators witnessed the ultimate of martial arts and enough to become a modern legend praised by all. It is you who made the competition splendid. The mere seven hundred champion prize money is far from enough to express my gratitude, let alone match your achievements. If I do not allow you to win the honor you deserve, I fear I will be subjected to the cursing and trampling of tens of thousands of people in Booty Bay, and be ruthlessly abandoned by the great city I built with my own hands, and end my life in regret. Given the current situation, I urgently need to meet with you to jointly discuss a reward truly suitable for your great achievements. Also, I have an unpleasant request regarding the future of Booty Bay. I am really at a loss and hope that you can point out one or two things with your wisdom of comprehending the past and the present. Therefore, please be sure to come to my humble abode at eight o'clock tomorrow evening. There will be someone specially sent to pick you up at the Sailor's Home. Looking forward to your arrival!

Your most sincere and humble goblin merchant, navigator, naturalist, gourmet, and playwright Silversnap

Respectfully presented

Brego flipped over the letter and pressed it down with his thumb. He had neither good nor bad feelings for Silversnap, but he was very concerned about the rumors that Vossuva and Silversnap were close. Considering this, he decided to accept the invitation, no matter how disgusting the wording of this letter made him feel.

He went out the door and down the stairs. Jorgen's room was still empty. It had been empty for many days. He knew this was not a man who would break his promise and run away. Since seeing Jorgen lecturing the thugs at the bar that time, he saw something similar to himself in the man's eyes. But now, Brego really wanted to talk to him. He wanted to know the progress of the investigation he had commissioned before going to the appointment, and based on this, decide how to respond to the goblin merchant.

When Jorgen came to Night Herring Alley, he saw Tusa propping up the door frames on both sides of the white house with his hands, standing upright. A strong middle-aged man and a middle-aged woman were confronting him.

"Get that damn woman out here!" the woman said loudly.

"Madam, Miss Glocara is not at home, I've said it many times. 'The ogre doorman does not lie,' haven't you heard this saying?"

"Stop talking nonsense, get out of the way, we're going in to see for ourselves."

"I can't do that. We have many patients resting inside, resting."

"Patients? Aren't all those lying in beds in this house corpses that woman took to exchange for money? Are there really any living people?" the man said.

"Sir, that's too much. Miss Glocara has treated many people. Your soul is frightfully impatient, you need to relax..."

The man grabbed Tusa's wrist, which was bracing the doorframe, trying to pry it open, and then raised his palm to push him in the chest. Jorgen came over and grabbed the man's shoulder.

"What's going on here?" he said.

"Ah, Brother Jorgen." Tusa said. "Quick, help me persuade these two. They want to force their way in. Look, I'm sweating all over."

"Tsk, another one? Who's this? I didn't expect the lapdogs under that woman's skirt to be so many." The woman said.

"You look like a bunch of shameless crooks. Get out of the way."

As the man finished speaking, he again reached out to push Tusa, but midway stopped his movement, because Miss Glocara now moved away Tusa's arm and walked out. Seeing Jorgen, she didn't say anything, averted her gaze, and stared at the man and woman.

"Finally out? Why do you keep hiding?" the woman said.

"Annoying. What do you want after all?" Miss Glocara said.

"Ha, are you pretending to be stupid? This new dress, did you buy it with the money you stole from my husband? Take it off!"

"Stinking woman, how much did you sell my brother for?" the man said.

"I remember now." Miss Glocara said. "I saw you two in Mati Munray's tent at the construction site."

"We are his wife and brother. If you have any conscience, just answer honestly..."

Miss Glocara interrupted the woman with a slap in the face. The slap was so sudden, just like Jorgen had witnessed twice before, that the other party had no time to react.

"Wife? Brother? I've seen too much of this. At first I thought it was quite interesting, now I can't laugh. " Miss Glocara glared at the man and woman. "I only collect unclaimed dead bodies. What are unclaimed dead bodies? Mati Munray was like that, he died in the tent at the construction site, no one even covered him with a cloth. You two, I still recognize. When I rolled him up in the mat, you were eating in the corner of the tent, muttering something, and wouldn't even look over. Why didn't you pretend to be wife and brother then? Why did you only show up in front of me after I bled his corpse, applied medicine and put it in the iron cage at the bottom of the cabin, to claim some nonexistent legacy? To be honest, nothing on him could be sold. Because he died of illness and overwork."

"You've argued enough, you need some suffering." The man said, reaching out to strangle Miss Glocara. Jorgen used the hilt of his dagger to strike up forcefully at his elbows, and when he was clutching his arms and shaking, struck the base of the hilt on his philtrum. The man fell backwards, painfully turned his eyes upwards, and groggily covered his mouth with both hands, with two bloody teeth falling from between his fingers.

"Ouch, how miserable." Tusa said.

"You...you actually hit someone..." The woman stammered, crumpling her skirt with both hands.

"No, you won't remember. You will forget everything that happened today. Never want to remember."

Jorgen said, shaking the hilt of the knife and dropping blood on the ground. He glared into her eyes, quickly sending her away in a flurry of panic helping the man up.

"Did you have to do that..." Miss Glocara turned to Jorgen, but suddenly remembering that she shouldn't be talking to him, hurried back into the hallway.

"Brother Jorgen, that was really effective, teach me next time." Tusa imitated the motion of smashing the dagger hilt into the philtrum. "Then if they come again, I can deal with them too."

"We'll talk about it another day." Jorgen said, following Miss Glocara into the house. Miss Glocara took a step ahead into her own room, reached out to push the door shut, but Jorgen pressed his left palm against the door panel to stop her. She sighed softly, returned to the center of the room and sat down, turning her head away. Jorgen entered the room.

"Didn't I say I didn't want to see you again?" she said.

"I won't come to you for any personal reason."

"Don't think you did me a favor just now. I never intended to thank you."

"Does this kind of thing happen often?"

"Let me think...about two or three times a month. It's strange that I can still be alive, right? The corpses go into the sea, and these so-called 'relatives' pop up one by one."

"What if they really were the relatives of the deceased?"

"Didn't you understand what I just said? Why didn't they show even a little bit of kinship when I collected the corpses? They didn't even have to cry, just say a few words, okay? Even if it was just one sentence to show that they really cared about the dead person in front of them, I wouldn't have taken it away. I don't recognize these so-called 'relatives' who can't even do that."

"You're quite lenient for the 'Grim Reaper'."

"Oh, you... Forget it." Miss Glocara rubbed her forehead. "I knew that once people like you got entangled, I could never get rid of them. Say it, what bad news do you have to tell me today? Or do you want Tusa to change your bandages?"

"Was Vossuva also unclaimed?"

She turned her head. "Maybe. Maybe not. But I know what you really want to ask. My answer is: no, his corpse did not come to me."

"Why?"

"I'm not the only one who does this kind of work in Booty Bay. Besides, he used to be a big shot, Silversnap should not have thrown him into the sea like that. He has a special place to put such corpses."

"Then take me to see it."

"Wait, didn't you just come to investigate Idoli's affairs? Why are you implicating the finalists of the gladiatorial competition too?"

"I can't explain directly for now... But this is my job. And I did not say this has anything to do with your brother." How about it, have you changed your mind? "

Miss Glocara looked up helplessly. "Changed my mind? I never agreed to take you in the first place. But you really hit too hard just now..."