475 Lamb stew
Then the storyteller touched on the Saboteurs and spoke of how it had quietly changed from purely fighting against the use of nuclear weapons in its earlier years to having different aims now that the group had gone through some reorganization in its ranks.
The customers in the tavern were all old-timers, so they had heard many stories from the storyteller before. Therefore, when stories were repeated, they would appear uninterested and only focused on drinking.
Only Ren Xiaosu was listening attentively from the beginning til the end. Some of the customers beside him could not help but wonder who he was. This was because the spending level at this tavern meant that not anyone could come here just because they wanted to. Now that a rich man had suddenly appeared in town, everyone would definitely pay a little more attention to him.
However, they realized Ren Xiaosu would just sit there alone and listen to the stories being told every day. He did not try to interact with them at all. The esquires in town were all thinking to themselves that he was probably some family member of the Zong Consortium that had escaped the war and that it was only a matter of time before his pockets were emptied.
Ren Xiaosu listened to the stories every day, and his life became unusually peaceful. But one day, he received a text message on the old and worn-out cell phone he carried around. “Stronghold 67, C Rank. Takers, please reply.”
This text was very perplexing, so Ren Xiaosu did not bother with it. He was just using the cell phone as a camera, and he found it quite novel.
Ren Xiaosu used the cell phone to take pictures of the beautiful sunset. When he saw the sumptuous lamb stew in the tavern, he took a picture of it as well. He thought that when he got reunited with Liuyuan in the future, he could show him the pictures and let him know what the legendary lamb stews were like.
The stew in the tavern was different from those sold at the market stalls in town. It was slightly more expensive but also had meat.
After ordering the stew, the waiter in the shop would even give each customer two flatbreads and let them break it themselves. The easier they tore, the better.
Some people said that if you didn’t break the bread yourself, or if you didn’t do it properly, the chef would secretly spit in your stew.
On this day, Ren Xiaosu came to the tavern and realized the storyteller was not there. Curious, he asked the waiter, “Where’s the storyteller?”
The waiter smiled and said, “You must not know since you’re a new customer. The old man doesn’t come here every day. He occasionally takes a break too; when depends on his mood.”
Ren Xiaosu thought to himself that this wouldn’t do. He was looking forward to listening to more stories. Hence, he resolutely asked the waiter where the storyteller lived and went to knock on his door to make him go to the tavern to tell his stories.
The old man was stunned as well. “Young man, I’m only in the storytelling business because I don’t want to work in a factory. You showing up at my door now suddenly makes me feel like I’m back in the days when I was still working at the factory before I went blind.”
Ren Xiaosu felt a little embarrassed by his words. However, the old man sighed again and said, “When I heard that you were showing up at the tavern every day, I thought that it was because you were interested in my granddaughter. But now it seems like you just really want to hear my stories. Tell me then, what stories would you like to hear? We won’t be going to the tavern today. After all, I might not tell the stories that you want to hear in front of so many people.”
The young woman next to him turned a little shy and hid back in her room. Meanwhile, Ren Xiaosu was stunned. He suddenly realized that although this old man had blindness of the eyes, his heart was not affected.
This world was really a strange place. Some people were not blind, yet they could not see the truth of things.
When Ren Xiaosu heard this, he did not bother hiding it anymore. He bluntly said, “Grandpa, I want to hear stories about the Anjing House.”
The storyteller smiled. “That’s not something a normal person should hear about.”
“Do you feel that I’m normal?”
“You’re right. You’re not normal at all. I’ll tell you then.”
Although the Anjing House had not been established for that long, it was an exceptionally mysterious organization since its inception. Their extraordinary strength was not self-proclaimed. In all these years, there were indeed no missions the Anjing House could not accomplish.
Only the world’s best hitmen could get a chance to join the Anjing House. Not only would the Anjing House assign missions to these hitmen, but it would also ensure their safety and provide them with facilities.
“That yarn about the Anjing House killing the biological father of the heir of a small consortium, the one about that Uncle Wang, did it really happen?” Ren Xiaosu asked curiously.
“It was a real incident.” The storyteller nodded with a smile.
“So does it mean that by completing a mission for the Anjing House, I can get them to help me do something of equal value? For example, to help me find someone?” Ren Xiaosu asked.
“Yes.” The storyteller smiled and said, “So you’re not looking to have someone killed for you but just looking for a person instead?”
“If I want to kill someone, I can do that myself,” Ren Xiaosu said calmly. A certain aura of arrogance belied the way he spoke.
But the storyteller did not take it to heart. He only sighed. “Times have indeed changed.”
Ren Xiaosu asked again, “Do you think that the Anjing House is a good organization or an evil one? I’m not trying to judge them or something, but since I need their help to find some people, I have to at least know if they are dependable.”
Ren Xiaosu was worried he might end up compromising Wang Fugui and the others’ safety by getting the Anjing House to look for them.
The storyteller thought for a moment and said, “All these years, the Anjing House has always had a very clear criteria for the people they kill, and their targets were also deserving of death. Many of them are the radical members of the main factions in various consortiums, while the important figures of the conservative factions are usually protected through missions that seek to kill hitmen who target them. However, due to the extremely high price of that, the Anjing House has rarely handled such missions personally in recent years.”
“They don’t personally handle the missions? Then who do they get to do it?” Ren Xiaosu was stunned.
“They hire some of the hitmen who are waiting for the trials.” The storyteller smiled and said, “The Anjing House dispersed a bunch of cell phones a few years ago, and it’s said that the phones can only send and receive text messages and take pictures. The purpose of sending and receiving texts is for the Anjing House to issue missions and wait for interested hitmen to accept them. The mission details include the mission rank and hitmen rank that can accept it. As for the camera, that’s necessary for taking pictures of the body after the mission’s been completed. The pictures are automatically sent to the Anjing House.”
When Ren Xiaosu heard this, he was absolutely taken aback. Cell phones?! Cell phones that could only send and receive text messages and take pictures as well? Using text messages to take on missions, and the missions are even ranked?
Didn’t he have one just like that in his hands?!
However, the old man said that after taking a picture, the cell phone would automatically send it over to the Anjing House….
Ren Xiaosu recalled the lamb stew in his photo album and suddenly fell deep into thought.
The people at the Anjing House probably did not think they would receive a photo like that either.
“Haha, how magical,” Ren Xiaosu laughed awkwardly.
The old man continued, “After completing a series of missions, you can rise from D rank to A rank. Only then will you be qualified to participate in the formal trials to join the Anjing House.”
Ren Xiaosu suddenly wondered, “Grandpa, how do you know about all this? Normal people don’t tell others these stories, right? So how true is all of that?”
The storyteller paused for a moment, then said with a smile, “How do you think I lost my eyesight?”