Chapter 38 The Dwarf's Waterwheel

Joan Vader was not the type of young man Mr. Dwarf admired. Because Joan is not the kind of young man who can mingle with his peers, drink big glasses, and laugh heartily. This thin and withdrawn boy has never participated in militia training, and it is said that he is also keen on studying magic? These were traits that dwarves disliked, and Flint Anvil would never condescend to meet the little mage himself if Joan hadn't been the grandson of the old hunter Guillaume Tell he respected.

Flint Anvil coughed heavily again, showing a trace of impatience.

Joan seemed to wake up from a dream, and looked away from Mr. Dwarf's beautiful beard, and turned to look at the thick arms crossed on his chest.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Flint."

"Good afternoon, my boy, you didn't come here just to ask me, did you?" said the dwarf with a dignified face.

Joan had been prepared for this, and took out a piece of paper folded into a square from his pocket and handed it over.

The dwarf opened it and looked, and recognized that it was the reward notice he had posted on the bulletin board in the town square yesterday. Joan copied the full text of the notice, and the handwriting was beautiful.

"That's right, this is the reward notice I issued, in order to find out the villain who repeatedly sabotaged the waterwheel." An angry look appeared on the dwarf's face, "This is the third time, kid, can you believe it? Short I had to fix the watermill three times in a week, and after each repair, some mean villain would destroy it again that same night--crime outright! I swear on Moradin's Hammerhead , will never spare this scoundrel!"

The fury of the dwarf was like thunder, which made Joan feel terrified, and couldn't help but have the idea of ​​turning his head and running away. But he quickly suppressed the thought and forced himself to stay and face Mr. Flint's wrath. Just as Flint had a prejudice against Joan, Joan had no liking for this hot-tempered and stubborn dwarf, and he didn't want to come to endure the other's arrogance unless he had to.

Yesterday in the Great Swamp, Joan and Grey the gray bag got into trouble for accidentally killing a lizard man shaman. In order to avoid the follow-up pursuit of the lizard man tribe, Joan had to take Gray out of the swamp overnight. After arriving home, Joan placed Gray in a hut in the back mountain forest for refuge, and made up his mind that he would never go into the lizard swamp again until he avoided the limelight. Staying away from the swamp means that Joan can no longer catch leeches or collect medicinal materials in the near future, and has to give up a hard-earned way of making money—this is tantamount to worsening the situation for Joan, who is in urgent need of money to raise tuition.

It is already mid-February, and there are less than two months before the start of Leiden College. Joan's tuition fees have not yet been paid, and without the swamp as a source of income, he has to rack his brains to find other ways to make money. Just this morning, when he was passing by the town square, he accidentally saw a notice. The dwarf Flint Anvil offered a reward for tracking down the murderer who destroyed the power system of his blacksmith shop. If he found a real clue, he would reward him with 50 gold Duga and capture him alive. The bounty for the murderer is 100 Gold Duga!

Joan was immediately attracted by the lucrative reward, and ran to the blacksmith shop to see Flint Anvil without hesitation, fearing that others would finish the task ahead of him.

"Mr. Flint, do you have any more detailed clues about the destruction of the waterwheel?" Joan asked.

"If I have clues, do I still need to pay a reward?" The old dwarf rolled his eyes at him angrily, stroked his beard, and softened his tone: "Although the identity of the saboteur has not been found out yet, I have reason to think that This is not a simple prank, either someone secretly revenge, or a competitor hired someone to play tricks."

"Revenge...Mr. Flint, do you have enemies in town?" Joan asked curiously.

"Enemies are not counted, but there are so many people offended that I can't even remember." The dwarf shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands, with a hint of arrogance on his face: "You can also see that my business has been doing well these years. In the town council and the militia, I have more or less a say in the town council and the militia, and conflicts with others are inevitable both in public and in private. I have always upheld justice in doing things. Accident."

Joan had heard a little about Mr. Dwarf's comments. Generally speaking, Flint Anvil is an upright and generous gentleman, and he can even be called a man who is eager for justice, loves righteousness and hates evil, but he only emphasizes his honest side, and he never seems to reflect on his pride and conceit, conservatism and stubbornness, like A person with his personality would not offend others but would be abnormal.

"Mr. Flint, you mentioned a competitor just now, what exactly are you referring to?"

"Oh! Little guy, you've got the point." The dwarf shook his stubby fingers, "If it were someone else, I'm afraid I wouldn't dare to discuss this sensitive topic in front of outsiders, but I don't care—I didn't do it anyway. I have nothing to hide from my guilt.”

Joan nodded, expecting him to get down to business.

"As you probably know, our town holds general elections every two years, and all councilors vote for a new mayor. Our honorable Mr. Tyndale has been elected mayor for three consecutive terms. Overall, Well done, and he seems to think he's re-elected on his record, but I see it differently."

The old dwarf paced the room slowly with his hands behind his back.

"If a man sits in the position of mayor for six years, people will gradually form a habit, as if that position is reserved for him. It is not a good phenomenon, my boy, to replace the mayor. Mr. Tyndale, perhaps, can do better than Mr. Tyndale, can't he?"

"It's possible." Joan then added in his mind, "It's also possible to do worse."

"Mayor Durling is not a hereditary king. The name Tyndale has never been affixed with the royal coat of arms. I think someone in Durring Town must stand up to challenge the authority of Mr. Tyndale. I expressed this publicly in the council. , and won the approval of most of the members, someone suggested that I should be elected to run against Mr. Tyndale. Once a power struggle is involved, old friends will inevitably turn against each other. Mr. Tyndale is a good man, but he seems to be addicted to the power in his hands. But I can see there's an irreparable rift in our friendship... well, I wish none of this had happened."

"You suspect that Mr. Tyndall hired someone to destroy the blacksmith's waterwheel secretly as a warning, threatening you to withdraw from the mayor's election?" Joan asked the old dwarf tentatively.

Thanks to book friends: believers in guns, this week reward 100 starting coins