Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

"Of course." Zhang Renfeng had mixed feelings, but since it was someone's kind gesture, he still smiled and nodded. "Please thank those girls for me."

----

The girl ran away in a flash. It seemed that there were other girls hiding in the corner, secretly observing her. When she returned, a burst of excited laughter came from that corner, as if she had just completed an extremely important task.

Zhang Renfeng felt something was strange, so he picked up a seafood shell and sucked the meat inside in one gulp.

It has a salty and savory seafood flavor!

But I have to say, the meat of this thing is quite chewy.

After washing for a while, Zhang Renfeng was actually a bit hungry. With the brandy next to him, he ate one after another and quickly finished it.

……

"This is an oyster, a type of seafood. Because of the demanding transportation conditions, it's considered a luxury item in this city."

Henderson explained from the side, "It's said that it can assist and enhance certain male functions..."

"At the Baths of Diocletian, the bath maids will present fresh oysters, accompanied by brandy and flowers, to their favorite guests, expressing their intention to share a bed with them."

"If a guest eats an oyster, it means he agrees. The next time you come to the bathhouse, the girl who brought the oyster will serve you and take you to a special area. After that, what you want to do is up to you."

……

"...?!"

"Cough! Cough cough!" Zhang Renfeng's eyes widened as he coughed repeatedly.

Chapter 778: I feel like I've seen you somewhere before

"You should have said something sooner...you should have said something sooner. Why didn't you say so sooner?"

Zhang Renfeng then realized why everyone around him was staring at him with disbelief and whispering among themselves. According to Henderson, this kind of thing didn't happen often, especially since four girls were serving him oysters at the same time, making it even more sensational.

“You don’t seem as happy as I thought.” Henderson’s gaze held a hint of amusement. “Spending the night with a young woman like that doesn’t appeal to you at all?”

“Ha…” Zhang Renfeng was both amused and exasperated. “I don’t really know them.”

"What does it matter? They don't even know you. Apart from Ms. Luna, who happened to be the bathhouse maid serving you, the other three girls probably just saw you from afar when you entered the bathhouse. But they were still willing to spend the night with you in bed."

Henderson looked him in the eyes and said meaningfully, "Why do you think that is?"

“…” Zhang Renfeng shook his head.

“They like you,” Henderson said in a deep voice. “Once you win a girl’s heart, for a short time, her background, status, and skin color will not matter.”

"Especially since the girls here are used to meeting either gladiators who shout for battle, poets who spout flowery language, or 'performance artists' with their noses sticking up to the sky. They've never seen anyone like you."

"Someone like me...?" Zhang Renfeng repeated, puzzled, pointing to himself with a wry smile.

He didn't think he was anything special; at most, he was just a little stronger than the average person. At other times, he also had to eat, dress, and sleep, just like everyone else.

More importantly, in Lao Zhang's view, "sex" should be a rather conservative matter.

This was related to his family, birth, and the social environment in which he grew up; he had only engaged in such acts with his three wives and concubines. However, the sexual atmosphere in this city was quite open, which contrasted sharply with his own reserved nature.

The girls working at the bathhouse had never seen anyone like this before.

“Yes.” Henderson squinted, his tone becoming wistful, as if lost in some memory. “When you got off the train, your clothes, pants, and shoes were soaked, and you were covered in mud, looking like a drowned rat.”

"But your aura was not concealed; it remained as striking as ever."

"I……"

Henderson hesitated for a moment, like a crack suddenly appearing on a cold, hard city wall.

Through this crack, Zhang Renfeng could vaguely glimpse the complex emotions that had been building up inside him.

"What's wrong?" Sensing something was amiss, Zhang Renfeng pressed, "What are you trying to say?"

"..."

Henderson's gaze flickered for the first time as he looked at him. After a long pause, he spoke, "I was going to say that I've met you before... but unfortunately, that's impossible. Your skin color and demeanor are so unique. If we had really met, at the very least, I shouldn't have forgotten you."

His smile was tinged with melancholy. "Perhaps, what I saw was just a fleeting glimpse of a 'hero's' phantom."

Zhang Renfeng didn't quite understand what he was saying; the topics were jumping around too quickly. Just a moment ago they were talking about girls wanting to sleep with him, and now it's suddenly about "phantoms"? He was sitting perfectly fine in front of him, so how did it become a phantom?

However, even if you can't understand "feelings," you can still vaguely sense them.

For the next while, long stretches of silence fell between the two.

Zhang Renfeng stopped speaking first.

Henderson's gaze also froze slightly, as if he were lost in a memory.

----

three years ago.

Philadelphia.

St. Swan Theatre.

Henderson frowned slightly as he watched the performance on stage. The seats below were empty, and the stage lights made it seem somewhat deserted.

This is a rehearsal; they are rehearsing the play "Oedipus Rex," in which the young Oedipus leaves his homeland for Thebes. On the way, he encounters four men, one of whom, an old man, humiliates him. Enraged, Oedipus draws his sword and kills them one by one—this is the scene being rehearsed.

After the audition, the handsome and bright actor playing Oedipus was sitting on a velvet armchair that had been brought in by a special person, with a smug smile on his face.

"Professor Henderson, how was it?" The theater owner asked with a fawning smile. "Was that part alright?"

Henderson didn't know how to comment.

This is considered a classic production, with top-notch actors and crew. However, because the audience is truly exceptional, the theater takes it very seriously. That's why they invited him to serve as the nominal "artistic supervisor."

In fact, Henderson knew without asking that the male and female actors in these performances were all trained by various theaters. They had spent a lot of money to get them in, and after going through many rounds of selection, it was impossible to replace them now.

“It’s alright, but as far as I know, that important person has rather discerning tastes.” Henderson put it rather tactfully. “I suggest that when you’re performing, don’t add too many techniques; instead, incorporate your own emotions.”

"Technique will show signs of acting, but emotion will not. As long as the emotion is genuine, it is the best performance."

"Understood." The male actor on stage, who was hooking his arm around a young female actor's hand, replied, "I'll add more expressions."

……

"wrong."

A somewhat thin man threw down a word and strode out from behind the stage.

This word, like a storm unleashed out of nowhere, instantly halted and vanished the harmonious scene on stage, and some people's faces clearly showed impatience.

"What did you say?" The male lead frowned. "Are you questioning my acting skills?"

“Your technique is to constantly use facial expressions to convey your emotions, but the audience isn’t that stupid,” the thin man said in a deep voice. “You’re playing Oedipus, a dignified hero, a king, not a street thug who fights and brawls.”

"His anger didn't require raising his voice to shout, nor did it require a distorted expression. After killing someone, there was no need for shock, confusion, bewilderment, or sudden realization. For him, it all happened naturally. He did the right thing, and that was all."

Henderson's pupils constricted, utterly shocked.

"Who do you think you are, daring to criticize my acting skills?"

The male lead was clearly unable to accept that his livelihood was being judged by an unassuming, seemingly unknown nobody. He angrily retorted, "Do you think you can handle this role? Oedipus isn't a new play; it's been performed like this for centuries!"

“They’re all wrong,” the man said calmly.

"You think you're so capable, huh?" the male lead sneered. "How about this, I'll give you the stage. You can perform this scene from just now! I want to see how well you can do it!"

……

Soon, the venue was set up again, and everyone watched with amusement as this overconfident little man tried to figure out how he would deal with his predicament.

However, this new Oedipus did not perform at all when faced with the mockery and insults of the old man in the play.

He suddenly drew his knife and stabbed the old man without the slightest hesitation or uttering any harsh words, as if he really intended to kill him on the stage.

……

Henderson's pupils dilated slightly as he asked curiously, "Who is this person?"

"It seems like some playwright they brought in from who-knows-where, uh... there's a section in the script he wrote." The theater owner hurriedly wiped his sweat, flipping through the massive list of playwrights in his hand, finally finding his name in a corner. "Theona... Theonado Dittasdorf, I'm firing this guy right now, this is just reckless..."

"No!"

Henderson's tone was absolutely firm: "He has to stay."

Chapter 779: The Perfect City

"Welcome, both of you. It's good that you've come to speak with me in such a dignified manner, but..."

Norton shrugged. "I'm sure you've all realized that my welcome lacks sincerity. The combined costs of your four thousand-plus people are a bottomless pit. If this were in some small, remote city, it would probably have already bankrupted it."

……

Emerging from the Baths of Diocletian, the street seemed to have become more lively.

The two walked through a vast expanse of magnificent buildings and finally arrived at the very center of the city.

It's no longer just "like a palace"; the name itself is so descriptive that they've abandoned all pretense and simply tell you that this place is called the Paladin Palace.

In the central courtyard outside the palace stands a square reservoir, the bottom of which is covered with Venetian glass mosaics depicting a scene of the Thethy naval battle.

The water inside was crystal clear. The fact that it was so clear in an open-air place shows that it is changed regularly.

A variety of flowers bloom in the courtyard, appearing somewhat crowded, as if trying to gather all the flowers in the world into this garden. Several gardeners are bending over, pruning the branches of the plants. Although there are few visitors here 24 hours a day, they still want to ensure that everything is in perfect condition.

Passing through the courtyard and truly entering the interior of this palace is like stepping into a maze.

The marble floor tiles are so shiny they can be used as mirrors; the corridors, rooms, staircases, and heavy doors make this place feel like a maze.

Artworks such as reliefs and paintings are everywhere, and judging from Lydia's frequent exclamations of amazement, they must all be quite valuable and genuine. Given how large this area has already been developed, wouldn't it be beneath its dignity to display some fakes?

However, she was only surprised for a few moments when she first came in, and quickly recovered from the initial shock.

Because there are so many good things, every time you think you've found something good, you just walk a little further in and you'll find something even better. Even a cup displayed on the shelf is a valuable work of art.

After entering, they were led around the exquisite and magnificent palace by servants.

After wandering through what felt like a maze, they finally arrived at the heart of the place, Norton's office—as one can imagine, this small room had been shaped to reflect his own aesthetic.

A silent man stood behind him, acting as a bodyguard. Interestingly, he wasn't even carrying a gun. However, he had an unusually long greatsword at his waist, thick hair and beard, and blue eyes that gave him a somewhat melancholic look. He calmly surveyed the two of them.

At the very beginning of the negotiations, Zhang Renfeng and his team encountered a setback.

……

“No offense intended, Mr. Mayor, but we have no intention of defaulting on our debts,” Zhang Renfeng said in a deep voice. “Please write down all the money you have paid these past few days. In a few days, when our people arrive, I will definitely repay the money!”

"It seems you have no idea what the real situation is." Norton's expression remained unchanged. "Is money important? Resources are important. There are only so many resources in the city. If we give them to you, we'll have less for ourselves. Do you think the people of this city will tolerate more than four thousand outsiders taking up their allotted rations?"

"Just say it," Lydia said impatiently, seeing through his thoughts. "How do you want things to be handled?"

"After this time, I'm sure you two have noticed the differences in this city." Norton pushed up his glasses and asked meaningfully, "Henderson took you for a walk around the streets, right? What are your thoughts?"

“Someone wants to be emperor behind closed doors,” Zhang Renfeng said bluntly, staring into Norton’s eyes. “What a grand scheme.”

“You’ve misunderstood.” Norton, unusually, curled the corners of his mouth into a smile, a smile that was more terrifying than his usual expression. “Even if there really is an emperor, it won’t be me. At most, I’ll just be a little ‘butler’ when he’s not home.”

“A wise friend of mine has told me more than once,” Zhang Renfeng said in a deep voice, “Power does not lie in ‘official position,’ but in how close one is to the source of power.”

“You believe you’re a steward, really, no offense, but you don’t look like someone who could be an emperor. But when the emperor isn’t around, isn’t everything here still under your control?”

This time, Norton did not deny him. After a moment of contemplation, he changed the subject and said, word by word, "Oak City is a 'perfect' city."

"Here, there is none of the cunning of northern cities, none of the crudeness of southern cities, and none of the barbarity of the west. This city follows its own unique laws, pursuing honor, passion, art, and poetry. This is also why I was initially unwilling to accept you."

“More than four thousand outsiders will ruin this perfect city. Like a fine pocket watch that has been rolled in the sand, too much sand has gotten into it, and it won’t work as smoothly as before. It was Mr. Zeta who vouched for you and gave me a completely new perspective on this matter.”

"If you want to make your wish come true, you have to follow the rules of this city."

"Jacques".

Norton snapped his fingers.

Jacques, who had been standing behind him, understood and turned around, then swiftly pulled open the curtains.

----

The first thing that catches the eye is the "garden" located behind the palace—a miniature replica of Mount Vesuvius, undoubtedly the result of a great deal of effort to recreate this masterpiece of nature to scale. The mountain's own edges, rocks, protrusions, and the trees and scenery at its base are all exquisitely detailed.

But before I could even marvel at that, my vision was taken over by something even more magnificent.

It was a huge circular building, basically a replica of the three arches of the Roman Colosseum, like a full moon falling into the city, standing quietly in the city, on a precise straight line with the Palatine Palace.