He followed the little boy's gaze to look around, leaning against the edge of the cage exit or standing or squatting a dozen children of five or six years old, both men and women, almost all of them exuded a frightened look in their eyes, and then a gloomy voice echoed above the cage: "There are fifty people in this battlefield, no matter what method you use, after 24 hours, in the end, only one person can survive, beyond the time or more than one person survives, then those who survive must die, the timer begins." Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 ｉｎｆｏ”

As the sound faded, more children were dazed and helpless, and even cries rang out from time to time, and the curly-haired little boy curled even tighter, as if to hide in the shadow of the boulder.

Maybe for ten minutes, or even a few hours, Mojar couldn't tell clearly, listening to the cries, screams, grief, and begging for mercy around him... He was already numb.

It wasn't until he heard the sound of approaching footsteps that the little boy looked up vigilantly and looked around, and a crying little girl appeared in front of him, her clothes were wrinkled and dirty, her delicate little face was dirty, and her two little hands were tugging at the hem of the skirt behind her, looking at the little boy pleadingly.

Mogar could feel that the little boy's vigilance had not disappeared, but had become more solemn, and it was obvious that the little boy knew the little girl, and he waved his fist at the little girl, signaling her to go away.

As if frightened, the girl did not retreat, but trembled and shook her head close to the little boy, and the look in her eyes seemed to beg the little boy not to drive her away.

But the next moment, she pulled out a sharp stone from behind her and threw it at the little boy, who would surely have been smashed out of a hole if she was hit.

The little boy hurriedly flashed over the stone, but his arm was still grazed, and a stream of blood flowed out, and he stretched out his bleeding right arm, grabbed the little girl's hair, and pressed her head and smashed it into the strange rock beside him.

'Bang', the little girl screamed, fell to the ground and convulsed a few times, breathing in and out, the curly-haired boy squatted down, picked up a hard dead branch and stabbed it in her little chest, the dead branch pierced through the tender skin, pierced into the wriggling little heart.

After confirming that the little girl was really dead, he sat down on the gravel floor, gasping fiercely, his eyes full of disappointment and sadness, killing the little girl, as if a few days ago or even hundreds of days and nights of the little boy followed his dependent grandfather to hunt those prey in the mountains, and there was no fear in his eyes.

The scene of free and happy hunting with his grandfather seems to have happened yesterday, and the little boy knows that after being plundered by this organization, he can never go back to that kind of life, and can only find a way to keep himself alive, and there is hope in life.

As if he saw his grandfather looking for himself in a panic, as if he saw his grandfather's hard back slowly bending, and as if he saw the scene of his grandfather's lonely death, tears gradually slipped down and blurred his eyes.

Mo Jiaer looked at the corpse on the ground through a blurred vision, as if he had recreated the scene that happened before he left the Demon Beast Mountain Range, although his 'body' could not move, he could feel that he was trembling slightly.

The little girl's screams were like candy cubes attracting ants, and several able-bodied boys around them heard the sound, and about five minutes later, four corpses were lying behind the curly-haired boys, wrapped around several pieces of cloth that he had torn from the deceased's body, and the wounds were simply stopped.

He half-squatted and shouted at the sky, Mo Jiaer could feel the helplessness and desolation in his heart, and then the little boy stood straight in front of the strange rock, even if someone saw his strange appearance from a distance, but when they saw the corpse behind him, they would consciously bypass.

After an hour, making sure that no one would 'bother' him again, the curly-haired boy returned to the shadows in the corner of the strange rock, curled up, and hid himself in the dark.

A few hours passed, two children, a male and female pair, crossed the four corpses and pounced on the curly-haired boy who seemed to be asleep, and a fierce fight sounded, and after two minutes, the place fell silent again, and there were two more corpses next to the strange rock, and the curly-haired boy had a few more strips of cloth on his body, and half of his clothes were stained red with blood, but most of them were the blood of the six people.

Time passed slowly, and the sound in Mogar's ears became less and less, and in the end, the entire blood-colored cage was dead silent, and Mogar seemed to be able to hear the little boy's heartbeat.

As the last hour came, the somber voice reappeared and reverberated above the cage: "There are five people left in the field for the last hour, and if there is no one winner in an hour, then you all have to die." ”

The little boy dragged his tired little body away from the bottom of the strange rock, like an experienced hunter, hiding, hiding, ambushing, using the surrounding space, and taking the other four as prey.

Half an hour later, the little boy dragged his broken, boneless body up the highest rock, with a trace of raw flesh between his teeth, and the last person was bitten to death by him.

He looked up and roared, crying, laughing, silent... Mojar's emotions were infected by him, one moment happy, the other sad... Eventually, the curly-haired boy fainted on the rocks due to blood loss, and Mogar's consciousness went dark.

When Mogar came to his senses again, he found that this time he was 'imprisoned' in the body of a fourteen-year-old curly-haired boy, on an isolated island, there were 500 children on the island, aged between 13 and 16 years old, and their strength was between level three and five, and there were also a large number of weapons hidden on the island, 500 people used weapons to kill, and in the end, only five people were able to leave the island alive.

The curly-haired boy used his fourth-level strength to give full play to the skills of concealment and assassination, using the terrain, giant trees, rivers, everything that could be used, such as Nuo incarnated to kill, Mogar immersed himself in the state of the curly-haired boy, kept learning, and with the curly-haired boy, he became more and more murderous.

Two days later, only four people were taken away from the island, the last one died before he could be taken away because his injuries were too serious, the curly-haired boy was the most seriously injured of the only four, but the youngest and the lowest strength, the other three were all 16-year-old young men of the fifth level, so the other three all kept a distance from the curly-haired boy, although Mojiaer did not deliberately count, but the curly-haired boy alone killed more than 150 people.

Because of too much killing, the four surviving people had their own drawbacks, one of them was half crazy and half stupid, one was blind, as if he was unconscious, and the other kept making cuts on his arms in order to stay awake.

The curly-haired boy is the most normal on the surface, but in fact, his heart is about to fall into a state of madness, his breathing is heavy, his eyes are already full of bloodshots, Mojiaer is affected by his heart, and he feels more and more irritable, and his 'eyes' are gradually covered with a layer of pale red blood, and then Mojiaer's consciousness is dark again.

I don't know how long later, when he came to his senses again, he found that he was in an ancient and gray huge hall, there were three thrones at the top of the hall, the middle and left thrones were empty, and on the throne on the right sat a figure shrouded in a layer of gray mist, this time Mogar was 'imprisoned' in the body of a curly-haired young man of eighteen or nineteen years old with sixth-level strength, and there were nine people around him, a total of ten people standing in an arc.

The entire hall was eerily quiet, and even the breathing sound of the eleven people seemed to be non-existent, and after a long time, a deep voice came from the figure on the throne: "Ten years, you are the only ten people left out of 200,000 people, and you will complete the tasks in your hands within a month, and you will be completely free from now on, otherwise... I will send you to Hell with my own hands!" said he leaned forward and stared at the ten people below.