On the road that is not wide, a jeep is bumping up and down. The jeep was not open-top and did not have the Golden Eagle logo on it, which proves that it most likely did not belong to the Iran Hill military.

Sure enough, after the Iran Hill soldier who was standing at the intersection directing the traffic saw the license plate clearly, he didn't even bother to salute the military salute, but just waved his hand casually, signaling that the car could now pass at will.

So, the car only slowed down a bit, rushed through the intersection, and continued along the road.

Inside the car, two men in the back seat were dressed in aristocratic costumes, impatiently covering their mouths with their handkerchiefs.

It was a human who drove them, and the passenger seat was an elven man. An AK-47 assault rifle was stuck on a special shelf next to the driver, and an elf man held a delicate long sword in his arms.

The wheels of the car ran over the slightly muddy black dirt, and the corpses of the demons were piled up not far from the wheels.

The corpses weren't even classified, and next to the corpses of many decomposing demon dogs, there were dense pile of demon civilians who weren't wearing any decent clothes.

There were also some demon soldiers in armor mixed inside, and on the big tree in the middle of the corpse that had not yet fallen, there was a wooden sign indicating where the road ahead led, and it was written in artistic flower script: "Ahead, City No. 48"

"It's already so cold, don't these demons need to wear clothes?" An aristocratic opening in the back broke the dull atmosphere in the car.

Along the way, they had seen too many demon corpses, most of which they didn't have time to dispose of, and there was a disgusting smell in the air.

Because of the lack of manpower, most of the demons who died in the war were piled up together waiting to be dealt with, but when these demons were dealt with, no one knows.

Anyway, the army's engineering units were only responsible for pushing the bodies to both sides of the road and keeping the road clear. As for the bodies that died in the wilderness or in the fields, they are now discarded in their place, and there is no one to clean them up.

In the "buzzing ......" sky, a P-51 fighter roared by. Instead of hanging bombs, it hung a kind of spraying device under the wings.

In order to prevent an outbreak of the plague, the corpses had to be sprayed with disinfectant on a regular basis. Because there was no suitable aircraft, the P-51 fighter jet, which has now been discontinued, was transported to the Demon Realm and became the equipment of the logistics support force.

"yes, it's already so cold." The other nobleman nodded and said with some distress.

In his eyes, these corpses lying on the side of the road are all potential markets that have disappeared. As long as these demons are allowed to work, they can consume too much and too much when they have money.

These demons don't even have clothes to wear, how many textiles are they going to buy? These demons didn't even have their luggage when they fled, so how many utensils, pots and pans did they have to buy?

If you count the radio, you can count all kinds of household appliances...... It's a huge market that has barely been explored! How much money can I make from this?

And if, if you don't pay these demons a salary, you only need to provide them with some food and daily necessities, and you can get labor almost free of charge, how good value is this?

Don't you see, what has become the cost of human resources in the developed areas of Irlanhill. Build some sweatshops here and you're sure to make a lot of money!

Every time he thought of this, this nobleman was extremely distressed. Countless banknotes are lying on the side of the road, rotting and stinking, and gradually disappearing......

Of course, if these demons can be tamed.

"My lord, many civilians don't have decent clothes, and I hardly went out in winter when I was a child." The bodyguard who was driving the car adjusted the steering wheel slightly, stared at the front seriously, and explained to the two employers behind him who did not eat the fireworks of the world.

A person can still only wear thin clothes in winter, and the tattered clothes that do not cover the body have nothing to do with whether the weather is cold or not, and it has to do with the amount of money in the pocket......

The elven magician didn't speak, he just looked at the "demons" who were no longer manic and ferocious. He is also a bodyguard, but the price and combat effectiveness are higher than the driver who drives.

"So, business is the way to save the world. Look at you now, you have decent clothes, and you have a lot of gold coins in your pocket, and that's all thanks to me. The merchant said triumphantly, then covered his nose with a handkerchief.

"yes." The driver nodded, satisfied that he was now able to find a good job. He now has a son and a daughter, and his wife works in a newly opened car wash, and the family lives a very good and happy life.

"Damn, there's a living one over there!" Another nobleman, who had been looking around, saw a living demon and exclaimed loudly.

He saw in the distance in the wilderness, a thin demon lying on a corpse like a terrible ghost, tearing at something with all his might.

Compared to the many corpses that were already cold, this demon's equipment was a little better. He was fully clothed, but still in tatters.

Having seen countless such costumes in Iran Hill, the nobles immediately attributed each other to the beggar's trade.

It's just that when a person sees other humanoids lying on their stomachs gnawing on corpses, they will definitely feel disgusted.

So, the nobleman felt his breakfast churning in his stomach, and he subconsciously wanted to roll down the window to breathe, but was held down by his companions.

It's like trying to roll down the window of a car on a safari, and it's certainly not safe to do the same thing here.

Moreover, the premise of ventilation is that the air outside the car is better - but looking at the corpses everywhere, it is clear that this is not the case.

"What, how come it's still alive?" The nobleman who held down his companion nervously asked the two bodyguards in front of him: "Yes, will there be danger?" ”

At this moment, he regretted that he had personally come to such a shabby place where birds don't. Even if a large area of land here had already been sold to him by the Empire, he shouldn't have come in person......

"It should be a fish that slipped through the net...... the elf finally spoke, and replied in the most professional tone, "There is no threat, if he comes close, I can handle it alone." ”

"Don't stop......" The nobleman who finally stabilized his mentality, and did not waste his breakfast, said with a pale face......

They left behind another road sign, which clearly reads: "17 kilometers from city 48"