Eamon hurriedly returned, barely catching his breath before being surrounded by a crowd of eager faces, all clamoring to ask him questions.
"How did it go, Eamon? Did that guy named John agree to our terms?"
Eamon shook his head helplessly and pushed through the throng, making his way directly to a towering middle-aged man who stood over two meters tall, with a muscular build that seemed to ripple with strength. This man had a face full of rugged features, looking fierce enough to intimidate anyone who dared to approach.
With his head bowed, Eamon cautiously spoke, "Brother Ao Ao, I failed this time. John said that unless our leader comes personally to negotiate with him, everything is off the table."
Upon hearing this, Ao Ao, who had been heartily enjoying his meal and cutting food with a fork, paused in surprise. The flesh on his face trembled slightly with the change in expression, reminiscent of a lion about to roar in anger.
However, contrary to expectations, this seemingly ferocious giant did not unleash a torrent of harsh words at Eamon. Instead, he spoke in a gentle tone to comfort him.
"Don’t worry about it, little brother. It’s my fault for having such an unfriendly appearance. If I had gone myself earlier, perhaps we would have settled this by now. But it’s alright, Eamon; let’s make another trip together."
Hearing this filled Eamon with guilt and self-reproach. He felt utterly useless for failing to accomplish such a simple task and for letting down his brother's trust and expectations. He quickly nodded in agreement.
"Alright, brother! I promise I won’t let you down this time. I’m really sorry for causing you more trouble."
Meanwhile, John sat leisurely at the table, gently swirling a crystal-clear wine glass filled with ruby-red wine that sparkled like gems. With his other hand, he elegantly picked up a piece of exquisite food and savored its delightful flavor.
Though he appeared nonchalant, his peripheral vision remained fixed on Eamon and his group nearby.
"Look at them; they really do have that fierce knight as their leader," John mused internally.
In this world where the strong prey on the weak and danger lurks around every corner, forming alliances was essential for survival. Choosing such a formidable figure as their leader at least gave an impression of safety.
After all, in two vastly different realms, aesthetic values could differ greatly. In this foreign land, someone like Eamon—tall and muscular—was seen as a symbol of strength.
At that moment, Eamon approached with steady and powerful strides. His fierce expression sent chills down the spine of anyone who looked at him.
"Wow, this guy is truly intimidating! Much scarier than those so-called gang leaders on TV," John couldn’t help but think to himself.
Ao Ao led Eamon right up to John’s table. Eamon's imposing figure cast a large shadow under the overhead lights, completely enveloping John within its darkness.
"Greetings, esteemed Knight John," Ao Ao said after giving a slight bow.
"My name is Ao Ao Owen Wallace; I am the representative chosen by these brothers. I will handle the negotiations from here on."
John couldn’t help but chuckle at Ao Ao's voice and name; he never expected it would sound so much like a character from his childhood cartoons—Donald Duck.
And how could Ao Ao and Owen Wallace possibly go together?
"I'm sorry, but why does your voice sound like that?"
John felt he was being a bit rude and quickly apologized.
Ao Ao Knight's expression remained unchanged; he even tried to force a smile, which only made his face look more terrifying.
Eamon Knight quickly interjected, "You don’t need to speak, I’ll explain for you. John, just so you know, my brother had a high fever when he was young that damaged his throat and facial muscles. He has facial paralysis and can’t produce a normal voice."
John nodded in understanding. "Eamon, are you sure you can make decisions?"
"Yes, absolutely! My brother is well-known for his loyalty in our circle; everyone respects him."
Eamon's brother, Ao Ao, was famously known as Ding Tian Zhu in their community. Despite his unpleasant voice, his influence was undeniable.
"Alright then, how much potion do you want?"
"What price are you offering?" Eamon asked, unsure of the cost per vial.
John became anxious. "Why am I the one setting the price? Am I the one buying the potions or are you?"
Eamon hurriedly clarified, "We’re buying! We just meant that if you could give us a price, it would help us reference it."
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