Chapter 662： The times have changed (2/2)

More and more people gathered around the bar, and a new topic of focus apparently appeared there, but in a corner far from the bar, a man wearing an old gown, thin and pale, with short brown hair was messed up. Still sitting quietly in his position, it seems that he is not interested in what happened in this bar and the topics discussed by people around him.

In front of this pale and pale man, a current newspaper is quietly spreading on the table, his eyes moving slowly in the newspaper, focusing on one of the layouts:

"According to the preliminary investigation, the catastrophe caused by the death of all things stems from the 'power of the gods' they stole, and the 'evil creation' that was jointly eliminated by the Cecil Corps and the Kraken allies, the body seems to be the eternal dead. a mimetic imitation made by some means...

"The power of this imitation comes from the fallen **** of nature...

"The **** of nature, the **** that the Druid once believed in, there is evidence that the fall of this **** happened three thousand years ago..."

The thin and pale middle-aged man read the contents of the newspaper and suddenly sighed softly: "This kind of content... was printed on the newspaper, letting the civilians who had just been literate for a long time discuss it casually... Is it wrong? Here?"

No one heard his low sigh. After the thin and pale middle-aged man finished speaking, he stood up quietly. He gently rubbed his fingers and suddenly the flames burst into flames. I dropped the newspaper on the table.

Looking at the ashes on the table, after a moment of ecstasy, he turned and walked straight to the bar door and pushed the door away.

"The Rock City... I didn't expect this place to be so prosperous."

Walking on the streets of this southern gateway city, looking at the tall new buildings and the wide and clean streets around, the middle-aged people couldn't help but pick them up.

Then he noticed that the pedestrians around him suddenly ran away, and a large group of security officers wearing black uniforms equipped with weapons and shields did not know when they had appeared in the nearby crossings and gathered quickly toward them.

The first reaction of the thin and pale man was to reach out and touch the waist - there was a self-defense short sword, but after noticing the number of security players and the weapons in their hands, he stopped wisely.

A tall sheriff stepped forward and the solid magic shield shimmered at the sheriff's side: "Sir, put down your arms and raise your hand over your head! You were arrested for violating the Extraordinary Control Act!"

At the same time as the loud announcement, the sheriff quickly looked at the man in front of him with a professional instinct:

Wearing traditional robes of old style, lace-up fabric belts, hand-stitched boots, short robes underneath seems to be wide-leg trousers... an obvious foreigner, and should be just coming to the south.

In the south, changes in labor tools and labor methods have caused changes in all aspects. Due to the safe operation requirements of various types of machinery and equipment, due to the dress code of the factory, new styles that are close, light, easy to move, beautiful and practical have gradually become mainstream. All kinds of robes, wide-leg trousers, wide-brimmed long sleeves, and jackets with lace-up belts are gradually being replaced by dresses and lightweight tooling, as well as everyday variants of such clothing, although some scholars believe that this The change of machine-determining person is a constraint and a retrogression of traditional customs, but it is undeniable that 90% of the workers in the South are accepting such changes, and still maintain the old-fashioned dress... or It is a relatively old-fashioned person or a foreigner.

The latter is more likely to be in this fortress city in the southern gateway.

The middle-aged man surrounded by the security team was obviously still in the wrong and unexpected, but he understood the meaning of the sheriff. He put the short-sword and short-shoulder on the ground and raised his hand over his head.

The sheriff nodded: "Very good, sir, active cooperation is a good start - your name?"

The middle-aged man watched the surrounding security guards with vigilance. He was silent for two seconds, but in the end he finally said: "Bard...Bad Wendell."

"Mr. Badbad?"

The middle-aged man's face shook a little: "No, it's Bad Weindel. There is only one Bard."

The sheriff still maintains a serious look: "Okay, Mr. Wendell, you need to take a walk with us next time - whether it can be released depends on your performance."

"Why are you arresting me?" The middle-aged man finally couldn't help but say, "I didn't hurt anything..."

"We detected unauthorized spellcasting," the Sheriff stared at Bud. "The times have changed, Mr. Wendell, what is your license?"

Bard stunned: "...casting the license? What is that?"

The sheriff shrugged: "Well, it seems that you still sneak in. This time, I am afraid you have to be locked up."

Bud’s eyes trembled, but after a brief hesitation, he finally sighed.

"It doesn't matter to the present..." he sighed. "Be free, I won't resist."

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