Chương 144: A Guest Who Is Always Accompanied by Sadness

Arthur took the guitar.

The moment his fingers touched the neck of the guitar, the passive skill module of "Guitar Master" was instantly activated.

Arthur plucked the remaining five strings, and the pitch was terrible.

Without using any aids, relying solely on his hearing, he quickly turned the tuning pegs on the headstock with his left hand and plucked the strings one by one with his right.

In less than a minute, the pitch of all five strings was perfectly tuned.

Because of the absence of the high E string, traditional closed chord fingering cannot be used.

He placed his left hand in an open position.

The right thumb begins to pluck alternately on the bass strings, while the index and middle fingers pluck on the middle strings.

A pure American fingerstyle blues tune flowed naturally through the quiet woodland.

Elias and his family fell silent instantly. All eyes were fixed on the broken guitar.

Arthur is playing a folk song deeply loved by the homeless and impoverished in this era, "Man of Constant".

A fingerstyle variation of "Sorrow".

The most popular version of the song at the time was the one performed and released in 1928 by Emri Arthur.

It was later covered by Bob Dylan and others, and was even used as a theme song in the 2000 film "O Brother, Where Art Thou?".

Although the guitar's soundbox was dilapidated, it produced a full and clear sound under his control.

In his hands, this broken wooden guitar with missing strings seemed to transform into a band composed of the sighs of the entire lower class in a great era.

Sarah's tears streamed down her face as she hugged her sleeping daughter tightly.

Elias lowered his head, staring at the flickering flames, his rough hands covering his face, his shoulders trembling slightly.

Caleb stared intently at Arthur's fingers, his eyes filled with awe and undisguised adoration.

The song ended.

Arthur pressed his palm against the strings, stopping the lingering sound.

Deep within my mind, the system's icy blue font appeared at just the right moment.

[A deep resonance with the target's emotions was detected.] [Added 4 new followers.] [Current task progress: 4/100.] Arthur handed the guitar back to Caleb.

He now finally understood the purpose of this seemingly out-of-place skill.

On this treacherous highway filled with hostility, defensiveness, and despair, legal documents and firearms are only used to fight off thugs.

Moving music is the only key that can instantly disarm the poor and establish an unbreakable bond of trust.

After that night and that piece of music, Elias's family had completely come to regard Arthur as their benefactor and fellow traveler.

It's 6: 30 in the morning.

The eastern sky was beginning to lighten, but in the mountains and forests, the temperature was still below freezing.

The family began packing their tarpaulin and cooking utensils, preparing to continue their journey. Arthur also walked towards his pickup truck.

Just then, the extremely chaotic roar of a car engine suddenly came from the interstate highway in the distance.

Two black six-wheeled SUVs turned onto the dirt road leading to the woodland and drove straight in front of Elias's T-truck, stopping arrogantly to the side and completely blocking their way.

The car door opened, and four burly men wearing dark trench coats and wide-brimmed hats stepped out.

The man in the lead had a cigar in his mouth and a noticeable scar on his cheek.

From another car, a portly sheriff wearing a Maryland state police uniform with a revolver slung over his waist stepped out.

Elias's face turned deathly pale when he saw these people, and he instinctively shielded his wife and children behind him.

"You're pretty fast, Parker. We've been looking for you all night in the mud."

The scarred man spat his cigar onto the ground and stubbed it out with his shoe. He completely ignored Arthur, who was standing a few meters away watching coldly, and walked straight to the truck.

"Mr. Miller—we've already given the land and the house to the bank. We really have nothing left now." Elias's voice trembled, filled with a natural fear of power.

The debt collector, known as Miller, sneered.

"The land is mortgaged. But your beat-up truck isn't just worth a little money; there are iron farm tools in the back that you can sell. You also owe the bank three hundred dollars in bad debt. You're not leaving this county today."

The portly sheriff walked forward slowly, holding a folded document in his hand.

"I am the county's sheriff."

The sheriff waved the document with practiced ease.

"This is a property seizure order issued by the magistrate. Since you have no money, this truck of yours will be seized in accordance with the law to pay off the debt. As for you, Parker, you can go back to the quarry and break stones for six months to pay off the remaining balance until the three hundred dollar debt is paid off."

The bank used a tracked tractor to drive the farmer off the land, and then, with the tacit approval of the local court, "bought" the land that had been auctioned off at an extremely low price.

This deliberately creates an "underpaid debt" that the farmer is unable to repay.

Then, the debt collection company and the local sheriff joined forces to confiscate the vehicles of the poor fleeing on the pretext of this fabricated bad debt, and legally turned them into modern slaves using the "Vagabond Act".

This is also an extreme form of monopolistic exploitation.

Miller raised his hand and waved. Two burly men behind him stepped forward, preparing to forcibly pull Elias out of the car and grab the car keys from the steering wheel.

Elias clung desperately to the steering wheel.

The boy, Caleb, picked up a stone from the ground, trying to shield his father, but one of the thugs slapped him to the ground. Sarah let out a piercing scream.

The fleeing farmer seemed to have no room for resistance.

"Get your dirty hands off the car."

A cold voice echoed through the woods.

Miller paused for a moment, then turned his head to look directly at Arthur, who had been standing to the side in an elegant black coat.

They had just completely mistaken Arthur for some lost traveler or a complete stranger from the city.

"Who are you? A nosy city bumpkin?"

Miller looked Arthur up and down, his eyes full of warning.

"Get in your car and get out of here. This is the local sheriff handling legitimate debt enforcement; don't get yourself into trouble."

Arthur ignored Miller and looked directly at the fat sheriff.

"According to the Maryland Code of Civil Procedure and Geographical Division Act, you crossed your county boundary an hour ago."

"Any asset seizure that crosses county boundaries must be accompanied by a joint subpoena issued in person by a state circuit court judge and enforced by state police or bailiffs."

"You, a local county sheriff, are using a worthless piece of paper from a local court to illegally enter the interstate highway and forcibly impound private vehicles. Under state law, this is armed robbery."

The fat police chief's expression changed instantly.

In this remote, lawless area, dealing with bankrupt, impoverished people who can barely read or write never requires following proper procedures; the police badge is everything.

He never expected to run into someone who knew more than a lawyer on the way here.

"You're some East Coast lawyer, fucking?"

Miller completely lost his patience.

He assumed Arthur was just a smooth talker who made a living by his words, so he habitually resorted to violence and threats.