Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 51 51. The Clue of Bacon

These three scumbag soldiers made the young witcher have a deeper understanding of the face of the world.

Who were the soldiers he had seen in the past?
Law enforcement team, the hunting squad of elite soldiers.

Philip's all-handed horse team, the baron's castle guard and direct force.

These people may be rude, they may be barbaric, and they may be prejudiced with ignorance.

But there is no doubt that these people are capable and superior to ordinary people and ordinary soldiers in this era.

They are proficient in killing, tracking, driving horses, and operating military equipment.
These abilities give them status, but also rules.

As a baron's guard, there is no time and space to run amok in the countryside.

If you become an elite soldier, you don't have the energy and opportunity to be a highwayman.

As far as ordinary soldiers are concerned, the three guys who were hammered to death by Lan Ensheng today may be the norm for soldiers in this era.

Lazy and undisciplined, he thought he had mastered force in remote areas because he had a sword in his hand.

Then they were unscrupulous, blocked the road, robbed, and killed people. They only followed the tax official to do some business when collecting taxes every year.

In the eyes of most people, they are bandits wearing the national emblem.

Lan En didn't feel anything wrong with his rage.

The young man originally wanted to leave after hammering these scumbags to death, and continue with his business.

But in the midst of the fight, an overturned storage box under the tarpaulin caught his attention.

Lane squatted halfway beside the box, reaching out to pick up a dark, hard strip of bacon.

The cat's eyes turned, and there was still half a box of such meat sticks in the storage box. Considering the average living standard of Weilun, it was really not a small amount.

According to the traces, this bag of cured meat has just been put in for less than two days.

The witcher's fingers rubbed the surface of the strip of meat, and the tip of the glove could soon see the reflection of the grease.

"Is this what they call 'tired bacon'?"

Lan En's eyes narrowed slightly.

"There are at least several hundred such military depots in the entire territory of Weilun. If every military depot has this level of supplies, can Wesselad afford it?"

Mentos took over Lan En's idea in the blink of an eye, calculated the total amount of supplies, and judged the approximate scope of Wesselard's assets based on the only trip to the crow's nest.

"Sir, based on calculations, I don't think Sir Weatherard is capable of supporting troops at this standard. In fact, seven hundred to eight hundred men is his limit."

"So, this is not a standard configuration that a military depot can have."

Lan En got up from a half-squatting position and looked around.

Dead bodies and signs of fighting made the place a mess.

However, the available [Trace Detection] combined with extraordinary senses and Mentos' image recording capabilities are enough for him to complete a scene analysis.

"No one but me has left a trace of bloodshed here in a week. A merchant passed by three days ago, but it was a flower buyer"

Lan En walked to the edge of an inconspicuous rut, picked up a handful of dirt and sniffed it lightly.

"The merchant's car only has the fragrance of flowers, even if he is blackmailed by the soldiers, he can only give him coins."

The answer is obvious.

The source of cured meat is not official supply, nor is it extorted, and it is even less likely to be "donated" by villagers.
In this hilly area, what else is possible?
"We should have thought of it earlier, Mentos." Lan En's eyes were lowered.

"How could this kind of criminal gang not greet the local 'officials'?"

It takes a lot of effort for criminals to cover up their traces.

But as long as you have a good relationship with these three rotten soldiers representing the official power, let them say "everything is normal" when reporting to their superiors.

Wouldn't that save more than half of the effort?

As for whether these three soldiers knew that the ones who "respected" themselves were a group of cannibals, they didn't care.

Looking at the three tattered corpses again, Lan En did not act aggressively.

The person is dead, and he will not vent his anger with the corpse.

"Suck-"

Putting the strips of bacon under his nose and sniffing gently, Mentos in his mind took a lot of effort to block out the smell of bacon itself.

A smell belonging to the bearer of jerky stands out.

Fortunately, the jerky had only arrived two days ago, and the residual smell was enough.

The extraordinary senses of a demon hunter are not so strong that they are unreasonable. If the time passes, Lan En probably won't get any clues no matter how hard he tries.

The pair of shimmering cat's eyes also followed the direction of the smell on the ground, and found intermittent footprints as road corrections.

Lan En led Poppy to follow the footprints.

Young people are lucky, at least today.

~~~~~~
Sergeant Philip Strenger wiped his beard from his face, wiped off the drink, and let out a sigh of relief.

Although he was still riding a horse, he still couldn't help but took out the flagon and took two sips.

In the past few days, he felt that he could not do without alcohol more and more.

In the past, he used to immerse himself in drinking just to vent the depression in the family, but now if there is no bottle in his hand, he feels that he starts to feel uncomfortable.

He is addicted.

He knew it himself.

But the reason why "addiction" can be called "addiction" is because there is nothing to do.

But fortunately, he is still strong and strong, able to kill people and ride horses.

That's what his immediate boss asked of him.

"How far are we from that. Kang, Quill?"

Philip reeked of alcohol, and asked the cavalryman beside him, the halberd soldier York.

"That village's called Corndale, sir. We'll have half an hour to get to the barracks."

York was originally not very good among a bunch of battlefield veterans, but it was because of his relationship with the capable demon hunter that he was favored by Philip in the last mission.

When drinking, after the sergeant toasted him two more glasses, this group of veterans knew that this kid's status was different.

So even in the formation of riding horses, he can be ranked next to the sergeant.

"Damn it, those goddamn human traffickers are getting more and more rampant, so that I can't feel at ease-goo-drink!"

Philip belched drunk and looked fierce.

The number of abducted children is still increasing, and the scope of the abduction is also increasing.

The matter itself is not big, the key is the impact.

The peasants were not in the mood for farming, and the Jazz lost his temper in the crow's nest.

That's all his money!his money!

So Philip's team could only run around and investigate.

According to Jazz's original words: "Even if you go to the most remote mud and swamp in Waylon to find the farts of the swamp witch! You have to find the trafficker for me!"

Now there are indeed only remote places left that have not been found.

But no one wanted to go to the swamp, so they could only go to the edge of a remote village like Corndale to find out the situation, as a business trip.

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(End of this chapter)