Kalimdor Continent, Eternal Night Palace, Boss Hu's private side hall.

The atmosphere was extremely serious, Boss Hu banged on the table, didn't say a word for a long time, and sighed from time to time.

"You Titan can't speak?"

Stella Gosha leaned down and looked at Boss Hu affectionately, who had been keeping his head down.

Looking at the spring light leaking out of the V-shaped neckline robe, Boss Hu sighed heavily again.

Sad!

I don't know whose mouth is so broken, and the news that the old rascal Sarodar finally can't help it and is going to ride a dragon late at night makes the people of Azeroth, who love ethical gossip, very concerned.

It's family ethics.,Actually, it's not wrong.,After all, the dragon is called the Titan and the Father.,So on the other hand,The Titan should call the dragon.。。。 Well... That's the problem.

"Trouble to put away the milk, I see it all. ”

Boss Hu pointed to the neckline of the robe, and Miss Blue Dragon immediately looked down, and then with a penetrating high note, she trotted out, turned into a dragon form and spread her wings and left.

In this regard, Kyl'Thas, a man from Hijing who is in Quel'Salas, expressed his gratification, as the old saying goes, feng shui takes turns, and you Titan Sarodar also has today, hahahahaha

The man of Rilong and the man of Rijing are now considered to be sympathetic, and the outside world is extremely concerned about the nightlife of the two brothers, whether they sleep in their original form or sleep in their incarnate form.

As for the human paladin Marcus, who is in the air every day, he is no longer news to the people of the world of Azeroth.

Even if he released his words, saying that he wanted to Zhinaru, it was not unusual for the people who ate melons to express themselves.

You Marcus is a special case, you love who day and day, we don't think it's news at all, come on, oh, I wish you to wear Naru soon, Mo Da!

Orgrimmar, Underground Bastion, Core Hall.

The corpses of the ancient heroes of the mantis demon fell to the ground like broken sacks, and the whole army was wiped out, and their actions were placed in the history books of the Pandaria continent, which can basically be summarized by the unscrupulous panda man historian into a few words: against the will of heaven, against the current, and fight to the death.

After finishing the work, the ancient heroes of the mantis demon are finished, and they go home for dinner!

Closer to home, because the Twilight Realm of the Elder God Cthulhu completely sealed off this hall, all the Chieftain Guards and the Mantis Demon troops sent by the Council of Calaxy to support them were all surrendered here, and they were all killed in battle.

The mantis demon kills without any psychological pressure, not to mention those dyed orc brothers, kill them, no matter how they are, they have long lost the glory of the tribal warriors, and they are no different from the evil orcs of the old tribe back then, but the form of energy is different.

At this point, the Grand Chief Garrosh was no longer any different from the Commander of the Light Pole, and all the troops loyal to him died and surrendered, except for the lonely ones.

Oh no, there's a slight difference, at the bottom of the underground fortress, there's a huge military factory, well-equipped, complete assembly lines, where the goblin engineers of the Rusty Water Chaebol build all kinds of war machines day and night.

However, Gary Vickers, who has become the last line of defense, is not so glorious at the moment.

More than any bullshit loyalty to the tribe, the trade prince valued the preferential policy support that Garrosh brought to him, and the massive amount of gold coins that fell into his pocket.

The glory of the tribe? What is it? Can you eat it? Is it clearly stipulated in the treaty of joining?

And now in this situation, even the big fool can see that Garrosh is about to be finished, and he is about to fall from the high chief of the tribe to the abyss, and become a war prisoner who is likely to be publicly executed.

I can't afford to bury him, can I?

I still have a great luxury life to enjoy, and I will die with you Garrosh?

So, after seeing the arrival of the main force of the tribal rebels, Gary Vickers did not put up any form of resistance, and directly took the initiative to open the incomparably heavy iron gate of the military factory fortress, and the dozen or so engineering assembly lines inside were displayed in front of the rebel soldiers.

"I surrender! Surrender! Don't attack, we won't fight the Rusty Water Chaebol!

Gary Vickers rode in a large goblin lumberjack, holding up the megaphone in his hand, and shouted at the Horde Rebel bosses.

However, this big goblin capitalist is not stupid, he still keeps an eye on it, although he shouts to surrender, but the goblins and ogre employees of the rusty water chaebol under his command have not laid down their weapons, and all assembly lines and ammunition warehouses are on standby alert at any time.

What kind of international joke, his life is very expensive, in case the tribal rebels are not willing to give him a way to live, he has to run away, besides, there are many life-saving means in the hands of the Prince of Trade.

"Gary Vickers, your surrender is acceptable, but your Rusty Water Plutocracy will no longer be the sole leader of the Razor Elves of the Ministry, and the Board of Directors of the Goblin Syndicate will replace your dictatorship, and of course, you will still get a portion of the seats on this board, which is already the maximum tolerance for you as an accomplice to the war. ”

Ahhh

If you really want to do this, how many gold coins do you have to earn!?

Gary Vickers, who had thought that his life was incomparably precious, immediately changed his mind, and he decided to put his love for gold coins above his life.

"Fart! The rusty water chaebol is the future of the elites! We have mastered the core technology! We are the leaders! What kind of joint group do those vulgar and mentally retarded ordinary goblin workers want to form? Eat shit! I will fight to the end for my rights and for my own gold coins! War !! Money!!"

Gary Vickers yelled in a shrill voice, and the excellent qualities of the goblins who wanted money and didn't want to die were displayed at a glance, social society.

"The military industry is still under the sole responsibility of you, the Rusty Water Chaebol, and the private business side will be decided by the Goblin Joint Board of Directors, and you will have a third of the seats. ”

Ignoring the goblin's yelling, Thrall shook off a contract and calmly stared at the Trade Prince sitting on the goblin lumberjack, then drew his weapon, the Hammer of Destruction, and held it in his hand.

The meaning is very clear, you weigh it yourself, vote or fight.

"Employees! For the glory of the goblins, for our gold, for our monopoly, for our five insurances and one housing fund! ”

Syllable!

The contract was thrown in Gary Vickers's face, and the goblin took it down and looked at it.

A moment later ...

"Deal, Employees, lay down your arms and surrender! Surrender to the great and wise Temporary Great Chief! Rusty Water Chaebol firmly defends the glory of the tribe!"