"At the end of Mobil Street, there's a public cemetery where the bodies of commoner families are buried, and occasionally, a body or two from minor families. And I… I'm the gravedigger there, named Santanbi."
The middle-aged man extinguished the burnt-out cigarette between his two fingers, lowered his voice, and continued, "Actually, normally, a zombie might occasionally appear, and I would report it to the council. They would then notify the Hall of Justice, and the Hall of Justice would contact the local Enforcers to come and eliminate it with firearms. But a while ago, three zombies were born consecutively in the cemetery."
Durin frowned slightly and asked, puzzled, "Then why didn't you tell the Enforcers of Piltover this time?"
"Sigh, Brittany District is already a relatively poor part of the city, and Mobil Street in Brittany District is geographically remote. Besides a small church, there's only the public cemetery here."
The middle-aged man, who called himself Santanbi, first sighed, then continued to explain, "Last week, I heard that another noble died in the city center. The Piltover Guard transferred our Enforcers to reinforce patrols in the city center."
"Huh? If you transfer Enforcers from here, doesn't that mean the patrol strength decreases? What if a murderer escapes here then?" Durin was momentarily stunned, a bit confused by the Piltover Guard's bizarre operation.
Santanbi angrily slammed the table, gritting his teeth as he said, "Exactly! These damned blue hats just don't care about us commoners; they only care about the lives of the noble lords!"
…
Durin was speechless. This logic seemed to make sense in Piltover, where petty capitalism ran rampant.
"Are you sure you saw zombies?" Durin asked again.
"Yes! I personally saw three zombies wandering among the graves, and the entire cemetery would emit roars in the middle of the night. I've been a gravedigger for thirty years; I definitely wouldn't be mistaken." Santanbi said with certainty in his voice, "I personally saw one of those zombies. When its eyes stared at me, I swear it felt like my entire soul was burning."
Just then, the tavern waitress pulled back the curtain, carrying a plate of steaming grilled skewers, two large mugs full of malt beer, a large piece of pan-fried pork ribs crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, and a large plate full of onion fried chicken nuggets.
The food on the plate emitted an enticing aroma. The pork ribs were fried until golden brown, and various nourishing seasonings had permeated the pork, making Durin's mouth water.
He knew very well that these foods could not be ordered for 15 copper circle coins; most of the delicacies here were probably paid for by this gravedigger named Santanbi.
How does that saying go? "Eat someone's pay, be loyal to their work." It roughly means that if you accept someone's kindness, you should do your best to help them.
Durin suppressed the intense craving and desire for meat within him. He picked up the Jack cup and gulped down the ice-cold beer. A chillingly refreshing sensation slightly quenched his burning desire for meat.
A so-called Jack cup is a tar-coated cup, flared at the bottom, and sealed with black asphalt.
In tavern brawls, having such a drinking vessel in hand usually leads to only one outcome: an unbreakable vessel and a broken head.
"Mage, I am willing to pay 12 silver lun coins out of my own pocket, as long as you are willing to help me deal with those three zombies!" Santanbi said earnestly.
12 silver lun coins?
This was no small sum; it was enough for Durin to purchase several courses at Piltover University.
It was equivalent to half a gold cogwheel!
Zombies can be dangerous for ordinary people: first, they don't feel pain, and second, their claws carry corpse poison. Some zombies can also be incredibly strong unless burned to death with a fierce fire.
But setting fire in a public cemetery is akin to setting fire in a forest—a suicidal act.
However, for Durin, with 90 points in one-handed weapons and 65 points in Running, he only needed a small trick to easily kill these three zombies.
Zombies can't possibly be more agile than three living people!
Durin thought for a moment, then spoke, "I can help you deal with the zombies in the cemetery. Has anyone else been to the cemetery recently?"
"No, ever since I discovered there were three zombies in the cemetery, I immediately closed it. It's been almost four days now." Santanbi shook his head, stating with certainty, "But if I drag this on any longer, those council lords will definitely strip me of this uniform and no longer let me be the gravedigger of Piltover Public Cemetery."
After receiving all the exact information, Durin nodded and said, "Alright, I understand. Let's eat! I'll go to the cemetery to check the situation later."
With that, he picked up the grilled skewers from the table and began to eat heartily. As the oil-dripping meat skewers entered his mouth and he chewed, the splashing oil and meaty aroma filled his oral cavity. The deep sense of satisfaction after his craving for meat was met caused Durin's pores to involuntarily open.
Next, he used a small knife to cut off the pork ribs and began to devour them, then a bite of fried chicken nuggets, paired with ice-cold beer, initiating a feast.
After all, what followed was physical labor; how could he work without eating his fill?
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