Xinghu Fort, night.

The dining room guarded was covered with dust and spider webs, and only two candles emitted red lights, illuminating the faint shadows.

But at this moment, many people were sitting here for dinner, noisy and lively.

"That old man, what Vitano," D.D leaned against the wall, put his legs on the bench, biting a piece of bread with a big mouthful. "Since I've called here, I've never heard him say anything. Could it be a zombie crawling out of the soil?"

Zombies.

Everyone who eats on the same dining table looks at me, I look at you, and subconsciously look at another dining table behind you.

D.D realized something, and he smiled awkwardly, and turned around to wave to the real "zombie" Grofo:

“Sorry.”

Grofo was drinking soup. Hearing this, he threw down the spoon, his eyes cold:

"Why are you sorry?"

Doyle was stunned by the zombie's fierce look.

"I……"

D.D realized that something was wrong, so he laughed at himself twice and lowered his head:

"Hug, sorry."

"But that old man, the guard, maybe he is indeed a zombie." At the other end of the long table, Wyat suddenly spoke, attracting everyone's attention.

The dining room is quiet.

Glorof frowned.

"Be careful," said Malos's messenger, Toledo, seriously reminding, "General Malos respects that old gentleman very much."

Wyia shook her head, lowered her head and took a sip of the strange "drink" that Logistics Wing got from somewhere, and her expression was painful:

"No, I mean, he is not simple."

D.D came up: "What does it mean, really Wyat?"

"Star Lake Fort has been unowned for many years and has almost become an animal's nest," Wyata said solemnly, "Animals are very sensitive to territory. When we speak up, we can startle a group of crows from the corner, but..."

He raised his head and looked at everyone:

"The old guard lived here, but he didn't disturb even a mouse."

Everyone who was dining was immediately shocked.

In the corner of the dark, a special flag-holding official who was incompatible with everyone, Hugo Forbee picked up a notebook with a blank expression and recorded it:

Wyia Casso.

Agile in observation.

Loss of sleekness.

"It's because he lived here for too long that the animals are not afraid of him?" D.D first bounced off a spider on the bread, then tore off the dusty crust on the bread and bit it down.

Wyia shook her head: "This is just the best guess."

Logistics Officer Piloga turned around from the window:

"What about the worst?"

Opposite Grover, Rolf looked at his soup bowl with unhappy feeling, and there was a spider flying from nowhere, struggling hard.

D.D sighed:

"Zombies."

Speaking of this, D.D remembered something again and waved to Grofo with embarrassment:

"That, sorry!"

Grofo snorted angrily and swallowed the food in his mouth.

"Morgan, Custa, it's your time." Two tired figures walked into the dining room, and the two people in the room exchanged shifts.

Doyle's eyes lit up:

"Hey, Bastia, Neshi! How about it, is there anything good about the Jackal Tower?"

"You mean besides spider webs, stove ash, cat poop, bird poop, ghosts, rotten wood and rusted iron tools.D.D?"

The young pioneer officer Nexi raised the kettle and poured himself a drink, sarcastically said:

"Let me think, oh, yes, there's a rotten rag, the smell of shit, damn, what does it smell?"

"Made," Piloga by the window drank the tea comfortably, "Don't ask more, ask is the friendly sponsorship of the Logistics Wing."

"There is a monastery in the southeast corner, and there are many cemeteries inside," Bastia saw this and decisively poured out his drink and pulled off a spider web on his head. "It's surprisingly clean. Obviously, someone cleans regularly, maybe it's the old man."

"Maybe he's living in the cemetery, you know the zombies!"

D.D laughed and turned back and waved:

"hug"

"Sorry, I'll throw you out of the window." Glorof stared at him.

As if to cooperate with him, Rolf next to him poured out the spider soup in his hand, snorted coldly, and a slight cold wind blew.

The interior is quiet.

Doyle had to turn back embarrassedly.

In the corner, there are a few more lines of words on the Forbes' record book:

Jialun Groof.

The atmosphere destroyer.

But he has the prestige of a finale.

"Don't be too careful," Paul Bozdorf, who joined halfway through and remained silent, suddenly said, "Lord Mallus has a reason to trust that old man."

Wyatia's eyes moved:

"Do you know him?"

Paul shook his head:

"No, but I know that last name."

“Gatu.”

Paul's face was calm and said lightly:

"This is the maiden name of the queen of the dynasty and the great merchant family of the kingdom."

Everyone's eyes turned to Bozdorf's heirs.

"Queen Koya?" Wyat was shocked.

"Your Highness's stepmother?" D.D showed doubts.

"We still have a queen?" Vero in the northern border was confused.

Paul ignored everyone's reaction and continued:

"The Gatu family started by reselling spoils and making money in war. They acted low-key, but they had a close relationship with the Fuxing Palace. They were the best among the royal franchise merchants, and they opened up a lot of wealth for the Canxing Stars of the past dynasties. Although their titles are low, their position is critical and their energy is not small."

Paul raised his head:

"That is why His Majesty Caesel, the youngest son of the former king, married the daughter of the Gatu family."

The official in charge of the flag was rich and his expression remained unchanged and his writing was endless:

Paul Bozdorf.

  Golden and restrained, with a key point in the words, and a very shallow foundation.

"Oh, this explains why the old man is here," D.D suddenly realized, "because his mission is to guard the Wang family's property."

Wyia narrowed her eyes:

"But those animals... why do I think it's more than that?"

"Instead of worrying about this, it's better to consider what we will do next."

Neshi scooped up a spoonful of porridge with almost no substance and gritted his teeth:

"I said, how long will it take to eat these things? Lao Pi, you are the logistics officer, what do you say?"

Nate Neshi.

Young and vigorous, not knowing how to restrain yourself.

Forbe continued to write.

"Believe me, Your Highness and the Chief have begun to deal with this matter."

Piloga sighed and raised his cup:
To be continued...