It's better to be 80% negative than 100% negative, but obviously, it's not much better.

Because until 2 minutes after the state reduction took effect, Mo Xie still had a hard time picking up that large tank of oil

To be honest, at this moment, Mo Ye encountered a problem that he often encountered when he was a student......

Bottle, cap, screw, no, open!

Having already sat up from the ground, Mo Xie competed with the gasoline can.

After a period of rest and recovery, he has been able to move freely, but his body is still weak, and Mo Xie will not be able to fight at all without relying on 'reserve energy'.

"Shit, right hand. ”

After spinning his left hand for a long time and still not opening the bottle cap, Mo Xie directly gave up trying, which is right, since there is a right hand that can be used as hair, he still has to use his left hand to waste time?

"Click. ”

The biggest beneficiary of eliminating 20% of the negative state is the Qilin arm, under the 100% negative state, it is still more powerful than ordinary people's arms, and now that the 20% negative state has been removed, Mo Xie feels that this arm can be used as a hammer.

Mo Ye twisted the lid of the oil can, and a slightly pungent smell emanated, and through the glimmer of light that came in from outside the tent, Mo Ye took a closer look at the solid gasoline exchanged for the "Holy Text".

"Spooky Color ......"

If it weren't for the unique taste of gasoline from the owner of the can, Mo Ye would almost have thought that the Holy Book had given him a can of milk powder.

The milky white particles are like the sacred texts used to match the snow environment, and if they were sprinkled in the snow, they would never attract anyone's attention.

This is exactly what Mo Xie is doing.

Carrying the jar upside down, Mo Ye walked out of the tent, this time was deliberately chosen by him.

Frightened by the continuous sound of explosions, everyone in the camp scurried around like headless flies, and the ruling class, led by Morgan, ran as fast as they could.

In the chaos, Mo Ye even heard one or two gunshots.

Walking out of the camp, Mo Xie wrapped a blanket around his head that he had taken with him when he fled, which seemed no different from the other refugees in the camp.

“Help！Help！”

Taking a step and blending into the 'last train' that had fled from the center of the camp, Mo Xie shouted the number that everyone was shouting.

No one paid special attention to this newcomer, they just pushed Mo Ye aside to keep him out of his way.

No one noticed that the man was holding an iron can in his arms, and wisps of white particles continued to pour out from the opening of the iron can, scattering along the road with Mo Ye's footsteps, and also scattered on the tent that passed along the way with his swaying steps.

Mo Ye ran through most of the camp with the refugees who were traveling with him, and then pretended to fall down before reaching the camp border.

"Pull me! My foot looks like it's broken!"

Falling to the ground and shouting at the backs of the refugees, as Mo Ye expected, no one paid attention to him at all.

The person who ran in front of Mo Ye didn't look back, as if he hadn't heard it at all.

The person running behind Mo Xie hurriedly took Mo Ye's place, leaving only a breeze that Mo Xie brought up when he ran quickly.

No one could stop for even a second and try to help Mo Xie.

After staying in the camp for too long, these people have long since lost their empathy.

Then there is nothing to hesitate about.

Seeing these people's reactions, Mo Ye breathed a sigh of relief inexplicably in his heart, and when the last person ran past him, he rolled on the spot, and in an instant rolled into a tent with an open door.

Dumping all the small handfuls of solid gasoline that had been spilled out of his arms on the ground in front of him, Mo Ye took out the lighter he had bought gasoline from his body.

"Click. ”

Blue flames were released from the lighter, like a petite but jumping elf.

Beautiful yet deadly.

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Outside the camp, in the snowfields.

Five tall figures stepped on skis step by step like ducks on dry land, and the position they chose could be used for gliding assistance dozens of meters away.

After all, it's not inferior to the main entrance of the camp, and only the main entrance has a convenient way for skiers to get started.

It's so easy to catch up with these big guys with duck steps.

"Hey, Boss Morgan sent me over and told you to go back and take charge of the overall situation! Something happened in the camp!"

Shouting loudly all the way, the young man trudged through the snow with one foot deep and one foot shallow, and he waved vigorously in the direction of the five.

The night on the snowy field is pitch dark, but both the shouting and the shouting here have their own light sources.

The young men carried their own torches, while the five whites each carried a lantern that looked like old-fashioned miners' gear.

In the last days, every drop of oil is extremely precious, and the configuration of a kerosene lamp per person is too wasteful.

The young man stared at the lanterns in the hands of these people, and for a moment he couldn't take his eyes off it.

That's the fire and fuel he wants.

"What did you say, boy?"

One of the five men carried a stick on his shoulder, and he was the only one of the five who did not carry a backpack for food.

At this time, in the face of the young man's shouting, he plucked his ears with his hand, as if he didn't hear clearly.

"Boss Morgan said! Go back for reinforcements!"

The young man's feet did not stop, he was like the most qualified messenger, and he did not see the slightest meaning of the disobedience of these people in front of him.

"Come closer, talk! Labor and management can't hear it! The sissy voice is soft!"

The man laughed loudly, but not much in his own voice.

Because he was afraid, afraid that Morgan's people would suddenly appear from all directions.

Morgan was a murderous guy before he took Mickey's place, and they can imagine what happened to them if they were caught 'deserting en masse' this time.

There will be something more terrible than death.

"Boss Morgan has something to look for you!"

The young man's voice could have been louder, but he deliberately suppressed his voice, but he was sure that only a few dozen meters away was enough for them to hear clearly.

The five white men just didn't want to mess with Morgan anymore, and everyone could have tacitly acknowledged this kind of thing, but the people on both sides had strange thoughts.

The young man was plotting against the lanterns and food on the white people, and the white man was worried about whether the young man was following him, and whether it would be better to kill him with a stick when he came, or to knock him out and walk away.

Both sides here are fugitives, fugitives who can't stand to stay in the camp.

The young man pretended to be defenseless and walked over to the white man who was asking questions, but he did not show his left palm from beginning to end.

"Yo~"

The corners of the stick-wielding man's mouth curled slightly.

"Orientals are just easy to deceive. ”

Seeing that the distance between the young man and his bat was almost in the single digits, the white man was already silently trying to swing the baseball bat in small increments.

However, if he was given a chance to do it all over again, he would never have made such a choice again.

"Look here!213!"

The young man who kept shouting, 'Morgan wants you to do what you want,' suddenly changed his tune.

He quickly pulled a ruler-long object from his cuff, and with a shout, he threw the unidentified stick directly at the white man's face.