"Number?"

"Nine-five-two-seven. ”

"Mission?"

"Scavenging. ”

"Out time?"

"Thirteen days. ”

"Hmm, the mission requires you to go out for fifteen days, why do you come back so early?"

"No way, my lord, my friend's health has not been very good, there is a record in the information, just two days earlier, you raise your noble hand, forgive me, hehe, forgive me. ”

"Harvest?"

"Thirteen Flame Flowers, fifty standard units of scorched earth, ten standard units of demonic beast dung, and thirty standard units of Flame Iron Ore. ”

Jiang Yang looked numbly at the statistician and the so-called companion dividing nearly half of his income without saying a word. For him, such things were commonplace.

Sometimes it's ridiculous to think about it, it's just a group of despicable slaves, but they have to be divided into three, six, and nine, and what's even more ridiculous is that they are really divided.

The nine of ninety-five-twenty-seven is the ninth-class, the lowest of these slaves, unique.

Since Mao Tai was transferred a year ago, this kind of exploitation by his "companions" has become more and more frequent. Especially after being beaten five months ago, Jiang Yang's condition worsened, and his vocal cords were often unable to speak, and others began to intensify as if they had found a unique outlet channel.

Jiang Yang wants to leave this world, he has always wanted to. But he can't, he has to wait, wait until Mao Tai comes back, wait until the treasure he hid outside is handed over to him, that will be his chance to get out of slavery and turn over, he must wait. He needs these bullying companions to help him maintain this job and this rotten life.

"Look at yourself, there is only one rotten life but scars and pain, give it to me, mercifully I will grant you a trivial wish. ”

After eating the leftovers of his companions, Jiang Yang curled up his thin body and lay on the blanket that was about to be washed by himself, and just closed his eyes, the seductive voice came to his mind again.

"Are you a god?" Jiang Yang asked skillfully in his consciousness, for him, this was the only communication in a day, although he didn't know who the other party was and why, but Jiang Yang still wanted to chat with it, and he was very eager to think.

"If you think so, then so, good boy, come, dedicate your insignificant life to your gods. After you die, I will give you endless glory. ”

"Since my life is insignificant, why should the gods still do it?" A chill hit, Jiang Yang folded some blankets to cover himself, and endured the strange cold that accompanied him all his life and continued to chat.

"God, do you know? Although I have been a slave since I was a child, I also have a friend, and his name is Mao Tai. That year......"

Since that serious injury and he couldn't speak, every night, this voice of a man or a woman or a ghost or a god would sound in Jiang Yang's mind, he didn't know why, he didn't want to know, and he was even a little happy, because this was the only one who was willing to chat with him...... "Whatever, anyway, when Moutai comes back and gets the baby, he will die, why bother what this voice is." ”

"Hahaha, ridiculous, wake up, humble as you, how can you have friends. Look, when he gets your baby, he will not hesitate to kill you, hey, hey, he ”

"yes, I'm looking forward to it, too. Shaking his head and no longer paying attention to the voice in his head, the same dialogue twice a day is enough, and the cycle will be somewhat boring.

Maybe the owner of this voice is a fool, he can only say a few words, but he just faces his own problem, which can be regarded as fate, well, Jiang Yang thinks it must be like this, because in this world, except for Mao Tai, I am afraid that only a fool will rely on his sick seedling.

"Gods, don't worry, when Mao Tai returns, I will give you my life. ”

"It's a deal. ”

"Huh, you're going to say something else?! ”

———— after a while—————

In July, there was a fire in the sky, and the people of the entire Flame City were panicked. Only the hut where Jiang Yang was, because of his strange illness, the house was as cool as an air-conditioned room.

This time of year is the time when he is most comfortable in life, and everyone is afraid that if he accidentally breaks him, it will affect the comfortable temperature in the house.

In the dead of night, in the slave quarter next to the slum, a fat man with three broken fingers crawled into a dilapidated house made of wooden planks.

"Brothers, something is wrong!"

"Why, those warlock lords finally made a move on us?"

"No, no, no...... No, it's Mao Tai who is back. ”

"Oh, what's that?"

"He, he, he...... He's dressed in the mage's clothes!"

"Damn!

"That little bug really rolled over!"

"Don't be funny, even if you're a mage in clothes?"

"Don't be funny, a slave is not a mage can wear the clothes of a mage master?"

"Everyone, the question now is not whether Mao Tai is a mage or not, but Mao Tai, who came back alive, sees Jiang Yang's current appearance, what should we do?" Scar, the slave who has been responsible for exploiting Jiang Yang's harvest from his outing missions, is sometimes so smart that it is hard to believe that he is a slave.

"A few of us are the smartest, and your brains are smarter than those mages, you say, what should we do?" No matter where you are, there are people who are good at picking up stubble and stinky feet, even if he is just a slave, he is also happy to do it.

The brothers have been together for six or seven years, although there are only a few words back and forth, but Scar has always been used, sipped the turbid well water in the cup, and said with a smile: "Simple, let's take a task for him, throw him out of the city, and then ask the statistician to cross the task, so that he will die in vain." Even if Mao Tai becomes a mage master, we are the property of the city lord, and he can't do anything with us. ”

Of course, no matter how smart he is, he is just a slave, and he is often taken away as an attendant with a good face like Mao Tai, and Scar's little cleverness is still vulgar and ignorant under the limitations of the slave's perspective.

Qiu Lingshan, the lord of Flame City, is known for his love of money, and he is also known for being "good" to the slaves under him.

A newly captured young slave, before the age of ten to carry out the selection of dead soldiers and drug trials, after the age of ten can go to the city after training to carry out the task of scavenging, can live until the age of thirty to stay in the city to be responsible for the work of slave management and the hard work of various workshops, enjoy the old age in peace, live peacefully through the age of forty, after that, sold to the Warlock Guild, ten deaths.

For Qiu Lingshan, every slave is wealth. There is no one in this city who can persecute his slaves, violators without giving money...... More money needs to be paid. Of course, the young slaves would not understand this extra rule set by their beloved lord until they died, and only the "old men" who had lived past the age of thirty would understand how humble their lives were.

The more they talked, the more comfortable they became: "That's it, he will be an outsider in the future, and the city lord won't let him hurt us for no reason." ”

"So we're going to prepare?"

"What's the panic, I just came back from scavenging during the day, so I went to bed while it was cool, and then threw this sick seedling out when I went out of the city tomorrow. Alas, the summer ahead will not be easy. ”