"It's a good thing he doesn't even have a ducat in Naples, otherwise we would have a respectable Prince of Naples here." The sarcastic young man's voice was low but just enough to be heard by the people around him, and he couldn't help but
Which caused a burst of laughter.
The secretary just pretended not to hear the sneer and continued to talk about his Italian experiences to a group of ladies who admired his Latin poems - when he was talking about his visit to the Pope, naturally the Pope and other secretaries declared
Like all the dignitaries he had met, he was very fond of his "literary talent" and gave him a kiss on the hand. This honor attracted waves of envious sighs from the ladies.
"Dear Baroness," the Earl was silent for a long time, then suddenly spoke: "I saw a pair of armor on the wall. Is this an heirloom of yours?"
Everyone followed his gaze and saw hanging on the wall at one end of the living room were the weapons used by the baron, including long swords, halberds, scimitars and various muskets, arranged in a semicircle, with a wooden frame supporting one in the middle.
The three-quarter-style cavalry armor has been carefully polished, and the silver shines under the light.
"Ah, no. It was ordered by my late husband in Milan, because he had to wear armor during the ceremony to join the Knights of Leonza. The rest of the time, he would only wear it to attend banquets——"
"Then I would like to make a special request," the earl said politely, but with no expression on his face. "Please give me that piece of armor."
Lucrezia nodded in astonishment. The Count pulled out his seat and stood up unhurriedly, straightening his upper body. The bystanders at the table let out a burst of surprised murmurs, especially some of the female guests. When
When they saw the Count pull out a strange-shaped pistol with a blue-black light from under his clothes, they all screamed in fear.
The deafening gunfire drowned out all noise. The count fired four shots in a very short period of time. Finally, he raised his wrist, and his helmet flew out in response to the gunshot, and rolled to the ground with a clang.
"Excuse me," the sound of the gunshot echoed in the living room for a long time. As the white smoke gradually dispersed, Weiss said, "Who is willing to go and see the situation of the hit?"
"Did you hear that?" Baroness Charlot said to the frightened black slave beside her: "Follow the count's instructions."
The black slave quickly returned to the dining table and picked up the helmet. He pointed out the gun hole on it to the baroness: it shot from the upper part of the back of the neck of the helmet and penetrated it. The guests were also shocked at this moment.
After coming back to their senses, they all stretched their necks. The black slave gestured to his heart again and stretched out four fingers. "There are four holes there," he said slowly. Everyone heard clearly. Part of it.
People's eyes turned to the count. Others looked at Esteban Sanabria. The guy's drunkenness had subsided, his face was pale, and he was still sitting upright on the chair.
"I have one bullet left in the chamber," the Count said, looking at the richest businessman in the colony. "A person who is accustomed to placing his life on a large piece of iron and a small grain of lead is thoughtful in his thoughts, cautious in his words, and decisive in his actions.
The exact opposite of those who make a living by cheating and speculating on bonds and promissory notes."
Sanavria gritted his teeth. There was no doubt that he had no way out. So he took off his gloves and threw them at the count's face, but his strength was in the wrong direction, and the gloves flew over the dining table and fell.
It entered a soup pot. The count didn't care, he bent down and picked up the glove dripping with soup.
"I accept the challenge," said the Count. "Even as the insulted party, I allow you to choose your weapon. Whether it is a pistol, a carbine, a dagger, a long sword, a saber, or even a cannon, I will accept it without any objection. You heard me clearly?
? Anything will do, even throwing stones. Although it is stupid and ridiculous, it is nothing to me. I will definitely win."
"Coward, bragging liar," Sanavria screamed. He looked confused, his eyes were on fire, and he almost lost his mind. "My grandfather gave me a Saracen scimitar, and I used it to chop down many strange people."
The head of a cultist. I will also use it to chop off your head tomorrow!"
"Then at eight o'clock tomorrow morning, in the grove in front of the village of Santa Cruz, we can see what is flowing in each other's veins." The count sat back on his chair, as if nothing happened.
It never happened, "Madam, can we have some after-dinner drinks?"
"I have dueled with several noble lords in France..." The secretary suddenly found another topic that could increase his "manliness", but the count's casual glance made him swallow the rest of his words involuntarily.
After the dinner, the rain had stopped, and the guests dispersed. Of course, there was a discussion about today's "sideshow" - needless to say, this matter will definitely spread throughout Manila's upper class tomorrow. Sanafria walked away in despair.
The count kissed the hostess and the mayor's wife who kept wiping tears when she saw that he was going to participate in the duel before leaving, but he did not take away the armor that was used as a gun target. The hostess returned to the room upstairs, candle
One by one, the lights went out, and the large living room, which was brightly lit just now, gradually became dim.
After all the guests had left, a figure walked out of the dark corridor and walked into the living room. He was wrapped in a coarse black robe with a hood, so even though he was holding a candlestick in his hand, it was difficult for others to see him clearly.
His face. The servants who were busy cleaning the living room walked around him, as if he were a walking ghost.
The man in black walked to the armor that had been shot, held the candle close and examined it carefully, and searched on the ground for a moment, but did not find the scattered bullets as expected. Perhaps they had been swept away by the servants. He took out something from his robe.
A silver peso, about 38 mm in diameter, was placed on the left breastplate. The silver coin completely covered the four bullet holes. The man in black stared at Weiss Lando's shooting results and said, "The shot was too accurate.
"Yeah," he whispered to himself, "either that guy's shooting skills are too good, or he must have something good on his hands."
Lucrezia Charlo played the role of a dignified, cheerful and generous noble lady very successfully in the brightly lit living room. As soon as she returned to the bedroom, she fell into that gloomy and sensual mood.
Even the largest room on the second floor is filled with a similar atmosphere. Candelabras dimly illuminate the entire bedroom and the large bed hung with pink gauze curtains - the best Chinese gauze.
Like "a cloud of smoke"; the bed is covered with a coverlet made of Indian fine cotton, which is fine and soft. The chairs in the room are covered with velvet embroidered cushions, which are as soft as the bed. The exquisite and compact Japanese smoke cage
Burning incense, it is neither the light Japanese incense nor the sandalwood favored by the Chinese. It is only sold in the market of Constantinople. It is the most stimulating and exciting Turkish harem.
Incense used.
Lucrezia was lying in the large bathtub at one end of the room, her eyes closed as if she was asleep. Two mixed-race maids carefully filled the tin-plated copper bathtub with hot water and sprinkled dried catalpa and jasmine petals into the water.
.
Someone came in. Although the girl's steps were light, her movement to open the door was a little more hurried than usual. The Baroness noticed it immediately, "Flora?" she called softly, still closing her eyes.
"Madam," said Flora, "the count sent you this."
The Baroness opened her eyes and saw Flora holding a carved lacquered wooden box. The patterned lacquer surface glowed dark red under the dim candlelight. She was in no hurry to open the wooden box and asked, "Did the Earl hand-deliver it to me?"
Yours? Where is he now?"
"No, it was sent by one of his attendants," Flora hesitated for a while before she could think of a word to describe the visitor.
"And there is an attendant?" Mrs. Charlo seemed to be interested, "It seems that he is a real nobleman?"
"Madam, I don't know what to say about that man. I can't tell whether he is a Chinese or an East Indian, but the earl must have raised him from a butcher or a gangster. He is used to killing people. He stares at people.
The look in his eyes was like a knife stabbing me. But he did come and leave in the earl's carriage. You will never find another carriage like that here."
Lucrezia showed a noncommittal smile, but as soon as the box was opened, she was amazed. There was a small pistol inside. The finely carved gun body glowed with a soft silver light, and the handle was inlaid with shining diamonds.
Mother of pearl. She had never seen a Delinger pistol, and this pistol with four barrels was so exquisite and exquisite that it was almost like a toy.
"This is not the weapon that made a hole in your husband's armor." A gloomy male voice said in Portuguese.
Following the sound, a secret door embedded in the wall behind the tapestry quietly opened.
"Come in, Paul." Lucrezia greeted lazily. Flora put the gun case on the low table beside the bathtub, led the other two maids out of the bedroom, and closed the door.
Even if Weiss was sitting across from Hale at this time, it would be impossible to recognize the man who had been on the same boat with him at a glance. The desperate survival on the Dongsha Atoll, from Malacca to the Zhongzuo Institute and then to Manila,
The arduous march and endless battles to conquer Baguio and the arduous work of establishing a military factory made him lose at least 20 pounds. The steam from the strong acid blackened his teeth, and the acid left burn scars on the skin of his hands.
His face has become thin and black, but if you take a closer look, you can find that some kind of passionate passion is burning in his eyes like a flame, which is very consistent with the image of a fanatical believer that Paul Gaoshan has created for himself. (Unfinished)
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