Even in the 19th century, when duels were no longer advocated, this kind of project that could rely on one's own strength to maintain honor still occupied a very high position in the minds of noble gentlemen. Who doesn't like to stand in front of a provoking corpse with his favorite weapon?

, smiling and receiving admiration from everyone.

Of course, actually taking action is another matter.

Hans had stayed in France for two years and knew very well how fanatical the French were about dueling. Originally, Alphonse had never wanted to let Li Ben go, and now that it was still published in the newspaper, it was no longer possible to remove it.

"Isn't Mr. Li Ben recuperating in the ward?" Berget was surprised.

"He was not there when I went to see him at noon today, and the nurse said he didn't know." Hans was helpless. "The dessert I bought was wasted."

Kavi was also surprised.

He was surprised that Hans would personally bring food and go to the dirty Municipal General Hospital for this "friend" he just met: "Mr. Hans is really thoughtful."

"After all, he is an assistant." Hans seemed to be very involved in this role, with a bright smile on his face. "I feel like I am helping Mr. Li Ben."

Berget found an empty seat and sat down, picked up the black tea brought by the servant, and took a few sips: "Maybe I am wandering in the garden."

"No, no, you don't bring all your luggage when you go to the garden to hang out." Hans waved his hand and said with a smile, "I saw that his bed was empty, and even a towel delivered by the hospital was taken away. It's really

Quite frugal."

"Huh? Isn't he a noble?"

"I don't know about that."

At noon, Kawei and Ignatz were eating outside, and Berget and the others were also resting. No one cared about the whereabouts of a patient.

Even old doctors with modern medical concepts like Kawei can't do it, because in modern hospitals, it is difficult for patients to leave the hospital alone. Who would have thought that the ward of the largest municipal general hospital in Austria in the 19th century would actually treat

The whereabouts of the patient are not asked.

Looking at the whole hospital, the most disciplined ones are probably the pregnant women in the obstetrics and gynecology department, because once they leave the hospital, they lose the right to apply for child care allowance.

"I think we can only give some advice to Mr. Alphonse." Berget looked at Kavi and suggested, "He seems to listen to you more."

"I have a headache..." Kawei shook his head, "If I could persuade him, I wouldn't have sent the letter to the newspaper editor's office."

"Hey, is he really going to be an enemy of Mr. Hans?" Bergt's face was particularly exciting, worried and excited, "You know that Hans has the heart of the whole Vienna girl behind him, if we really fight,

Each one of them could spray him to death with just a drop of spittle."

"I'll try my best..."

"Okay, okay, let's hurry up and watch the game." Hans put his little finger on the table and gently put down the tea cup, "It's getting late, and we have to pick up Sarson and Melen."

"what match?"

Hans smiled and raised his fist symbolically: "A contest where fists speak."

Kawei was stunned: "I thought Sir was someone who doesn't like fighting."

"Of course I don't like to fight." Hans looked at his slender arms and explained with a smile, "But I like to watch."

...

The so-called boxing match in their mouth is actually just a black boxing match held in the basement of a tavern. This kind of boxing match is not uncommon, and the usually elegant Austrians need a place to vent and relax after a long day of work.

If you are in urgent need of money, ordinary spectators can also go to the stage in person and experience the feeling of a fist to the flesh.

Although it is a small place, if you really want to get in, you still have to rely on some connections and connections. After all, this is a gray industry in Vienna and cannot be seen in the light.

Finding the correct entrance location is what they call the "ticket". It was not easy for Hans to get the tickets and it cost him a lot of money.

There was no formal boxing ring inside, just a small arena made of several long wooden boards. There were a few dim candle lights on top, and the surrounding area was filled with cheering civilians.

There are no rules here, no number of rounds, and no protective equipment. The game starts with the referee's order and continues until either party is unable to fight back. As for what constitutes being unable to fight back, only the referee and I probably know.

Although we are talking about boxing, in fact, the arms, elbows, forehead, and knees can be used. Wrestling and kicking are also common moves. The most exaggerated thing is that even the teeth are often used in close combat.

There is only one principle. No matter what the outcome is, both parties must see blood in the process, and the plot must have ups and downs. Otherwise, it will not arouse the audience's emotions and it will not be exciting.

This kind of underground boxing match is also a money-making tool for the bosses, and security guards are often needed to maintain it: "How many are there?"

"Five."

"Admission is free." The security guard blocked their way, "But you must place a bet before entering. It should not be less than 1 crown per person. No bargaining, and installment payment is not supported."

"Here." Hans handed over a 50-kronor note and pointed to a name on the tournament table on the wall, "Push Robert the Rat King all in!"

The security guard was startled. He took the banknote and looked the visitor up and down. If he found no problems, he accepted the money and prepared to let him go: "The next game is Robert. If you win, you can get 55 kronor."

"Um......"

"By the way, what time is the War of Mice and Men?"

"Robert will have to rest for about 20 minutes after the performance, which is expected to be 10 p.m."

"If Robert breaks the record today, how much can we win?"

"You continue to bet on him to win?"

"right."

"If he really wins, you can get three times the reward."

"Bet 100 crowns, Robert wins."

"I also bet 100."

"100, Robert~"

"Then I'll give you a little more, 200. Robert will definitely set a record today!"

The four well-fed young men spent so lavishly that the security guard was stunned. The 500 kronor alone was more than all the gambling money from the previous game, and they were all betting on Robert.

"If you bet like this, the odds will drop..."

"Just surrender, whatever you want."

Kawei was cash-strapped, and just as he was about to put his hand into his pocket, Begut took out the money for him: "I'll do it, 100 crowns, bet... which one do you want to bet?"

"Bet on losing, you should be able to get some odds back."

"Bet on loss? Robert is very strong." Sarson reminded, "The last game was only 3 seconds away, and he won within 3 seconds!"

"Yes, I will definitely win this time."

Bergert readily put the money into the security guard's arms: "It's okay, Kawei can deposit whatever he wants, it's just a mere 100 kronor."

"Okay, I've written it down."

Money is just a number to these five people, and entering the venue as early as possible to watch the game is the most important thing. Before the security guard could calculate the odds, they dragged poor Kawi to the game field.

The basement is not much bigger than the tavern upstairs, and because there are so many people, it is impossible to hear what the people around here are saying.

As soon as he opened the door, Kawei's ears were filled with all kinds of messy sounds, and the entire Tianling Cap was constantly bearing the impact of the sound waves.

Compared to him, the four normally well-dressed people seemed to be at ease like birds released into the forest.

Hans did not lie.

This popular painter, wearing a prosthetic beard and a cheap woolen coat commonly worn by civilians, was able to squeeze in the crazy crowd naturally, and was amazed by the blood splattering on the field and the crisp sound of fractures.

Shout out.

Although Sarson and Mellen are the second generation of rich people, they know very well the daily pastimes of the working class, and it is not difficult at all to integrate into them.

The only one who seemed a little reserved was Berget. Even here, it was difficult for him to let go of his aristocratic aura. In his eyes, there was no honor in this kind of fighting for money, but he had to leave now.

I'm afraid it's not that easy.

"Hit, hit him!"

"Kick in the stomach, yes, one more kick!"

"He's fallen to the ground, step on his waist quickly, keep going, don't give him a chance to breathe~~~"

Kawei frowned as he watched the boxing match. According to this style of fighting, the outcome of the match is either victory or death. Even if he survives by chance and the fracture is only a minor injury, he may not be able to get out of bed in two or three weeks. If you are a little less lucky,

There will never be a second one in this life.

After all, in an arena where there are no competitive rules, people basically rely on their physique to make a living. A guy with a broken arm and a lame leg cannot play because the boss can't make any money at all.

After a while, the referee finally stepped over the wooden fence and entered the field, helping to pull away the violent party: "... Gekayi fell to the ground and Polac won!"

As soon as the verdict came out, the staff on both sides quickly opened the small door and dragged Gekayi, who had turned into a puddle of mud, out of the playing field.

"The next match is Ironman Maldo, who has 3 wins and 1 loss, against..." the referee smiled and looked at a stool behind him, "...our champion has 13 wins and 2 losses.

Robert the Rat King!”

Facing the champion, the dark-skinned Meldo looked extremely calm, or it could be said that he had no expression at all. Just when Robert was moving his hands and feet, he suddenly stepped forward, stuck out his tongue, and made a gesture of wiping his neck.

The Rat King also took two steps forward and smiled at his dark face: "Hold on a little longer, don't fall down as ugly as the last game."

The two are almost the same in stature, but from a distance, Meldo is slightly taller and has tighter muscles. But when they actually fight on the field, the slight difference in physique is not so obvious, and everyone can clearly feel it.

To Robert's flexibility.

Whenever he was forced into a corner, he could find an opening to sneak out and punch the opponent a few times in the middle. But Iron Man lived up to his name, and his soft fists had no impact on him.

Meldo's only one skill and tactic after coming on the field was to drive him to the corner and then block his way.
To be continued...