"You said you wanted to go to the ruins over there? You can't go there, there's no one in the village to show you the way. "The head of the village of Almolica rejected Duchamp's request in one bite." Young man, it's a shame to give up your life for the sake of a momentary curiosity. ”

"Is there any danger?" Duchamp feigned nervousness.

"In front of that ruins is an ancient battlefield, that place, the evil sect is very evil, at night, those soldiers who died in battle will come out to fight, I am not scaring you, I personally saw it a few years ago, and I also invited guerrillas to clean it up, it was useless, and after a while it reappeared. The garrison is afraid that something will happen, so they have blocked the road to that side, so don't run into it. ”

"Nothing but ghosts? Did that big castle really collapse? ”

"There's no castle in sight there, only a few remnants of a pedestal, and a slick pedestal, so there's nothing to see for a long time."

"Forget it, I'm going to fish outside the village, I heard that this is a famous fishing spot, where are there more fish?"

"Fishing, the pier at the entrance of the village is good, and I would like to recommend to you our specialty honey and fruit ......."

After walking out of the village chief's house, Duchamp hurriedly wiped the sweat from his head, put away a large pile of fruit and honey he had bought, and went straight to the closed path at the entrance of the village.

"It's the white sky, and the ghost should still be sleeping. However, in case ......"

Duchamp trembled and put an acceleration necklace around his neck, and an acceleration ring on his hand. He looked left and right to see that there was no one, activated stealth, and sneakily walked towards the closed mountain path.

This mountain road looks far and desolate, and both sides have become a paradise for small monsters. Despite the stealth plus radar, Duchamp walked cautiously. It doesn't matter if you alarm the little monster, if you alarm someone, maybe it will become fatal.

Walking through a gloomy mountain road, an open field appeared in front of it, which was the ancient battlefield described by the village chief. Duchamp studied the red dot on the radar, calculating his path and speed.

There are no ghosts here, but there are hordes of small monsters.

He cautiously advanced towards the center of the ancient battlefield, where there was a high platform that overlooked the surroundings.

Finally advancing to the bottom of the high platform, he cautiously looked upward, and was stunned for a moment.

On the high platform, at this time, a large family was looking into the distance, expressing their emotions:

"Woo woo ......"

Warcraft has always divided its own residence according to its strength. It seems that the overlord of this place, the red-faced demon ape family, has taken a fancy to this high platform.

Looking at this amount, you can only outwit it, not beat it.

Duchamp's eyes rolled, and the pile of fruit just now didn't seem to be bought in vain.

In the air, there was a sudden rain of fruits, and there was a faint smell of honey.

The red-faced demon ape sniffed it and knew it was a specialty of the village next door. They shouted and pounced, intimidating the other little monsters who wanted to get a piece of the pie away, trying to pick out the honey from the bottle.

Duchamp took the opportunity to sneakily flash onto the high platform.

It's cold in the heights.

It was the end of winter, and Duchamp suddenly woke up when the clean and slippery breeze blew by the four fields.

He stood in this position, condescending, and could see clearly for dozens of kilometers around.

In the ancient battlefield, there are ruins and ruins everywhere, and there are no big castles.

"Brother guessed the beginning, but didn't guess the end!"

Duchamp flashed off the platform weakly and felt his way back.

After returning to the city, he followed the map and walked towards the large church outside the north gate of the city.

Follow a winding path and climb up a hill where the magnificent dome of the sanctuary and the neat complex of buildings shine under the heavenly dome.

Crossbell is located in a small basin in the south-central part of the continent, surrounded by mountains, and there is a large lake next to the city, with beautiful scenery and a pleasant climate, even in winter, it is a sunny scene, no wonder the people of the empire love to visit here.

Duchamp bowed gently to the nuns and priests around him, and at the same time secretly activated the detection to gauge their strength.

Since the church also doubles as the city's Sunday school, there are many clergy serving there. Duchamp walked and watched, but he was just ordinary people.

The person he was looking for didn't seem to be here.

Duchamp wandered around the church for a long time, and walked disappointedly towards the path behind him. It turned out that the back mountain was a cemetery, and there was a huge stone tablet at the top, on which a large bell was carved and engraved with the holy text: "Rest in peace, the lamb born under the bell." ”

Duchamp silently read this sentence several times, and then walked down the hill empty-handed.

"Brother is really not risky material, it's better to be a farmer honestly and make money."

Back in the city, Duchamp went straight to the city's central business district, walked to the jewelry store, and looked at the jewelry sold in the store one by one. I went to the general store again and took a closer look at all the ornaments inside. Eventually, he went to the square and looked at the Guiding Force Shop and the Weapons Shop next to the square.

It's a free trade city, and the store has everything you need, including the conductive stove that Duchamp is working on and is also selling here, but the stove for sale is very rough in design, just a shaped heating circuit, plus two rough stove eyes. Seeing this, Duchamp couldn't help but be full of confidence in his product.

There is a tactical guide device for public sale in the guide store, which is a product of the Epstein consortium, which looks simple and practical, but the price is ridiculously high, plus the adjustment fee and opening fee, the price of one has reached 100,000 meters, not including synthetic crystals. With the pitiful energy storage and charging capacity of a generation of power guides, Duchamp estimates that even if the heroes of the Northland see it, they may not necessarily buy it.

After watching the lap, Duchamp felt that his exhaustion had reached a limit. It's been a busy day today.

He returned to the Long Lao Hotel, hastily ordered dinner, and silently estimated in his heart how much money he could make in this city if he made all the magic crystals left in the package into magic jewelry and sold them.

There are more than a dozen magic crystals in Duchamp's package, some of which were saved by killing monsters during his and Lu training, and some of which were left over from the refrigerator circuit, and the condition was much worse than the batch brought by Baron Theresa. However, if you make some trinkets casually, I believe there is still a market.

In the mainland, if a craftsman wants to make magic jewelry, it often takes a long time, first to exercise the guiding resonance, and then to conduct long-term inlay learning, relying on experience to form cognitive data on the magic crystal, and then he can start to try to guide the magic of the magic crystal.

But Duchamp doesn't, he has a guide workbench that works automatically.