"The queen said that she must find out where that kid came from, and by the way, let that guy confess that he was the prince sent by the prime minister to assassinate him, but he didn't speak Westeros at all, not even in tongues."

Walking down the stairs of the promenade, Kemp complained to his companion, "So don't expect to complete this task." ”

Companion Will said: "How can you check if you can't speak?" As for the latter task, as long as we say to the outside world that he has been recruited, who can still run to administer justice for that kid? ”

"That's right, he's not from Westeros anyway." Kemp said, subconsciously licking the corners of his mouth, and he licked the remaining grease from dinner.

"I suspect he's a Braavos, with fine skin and tender flesh, especially with a whip."

"Could it be a descendant of some nobleman in Braavos?"

"Descendants of the nobility? Does an aristocracy exist in Braavos? Kemp said, "But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter if he's dead or not." I guess he won't survive tonight. ”

"The queen will allow you to do that?"

"She didn't say it." Kemp shrugged, "Maybe this will have forgotten about that kid." ”

The two chatted as if they were walking down the stone staircase to the deepest part of the earth, but before they could get closer, Kemp suddenly stopped, shrugged his nose, and looked at his companion.

"Do you smell anything?"

"I have a bit of a cold and can't smell it." Will said, "What's there?" ”

"It smells of blood, and it stinks a little."

"Isn't this normal here? Kemp, don't forget what we do. Will said angrily, "Maybe the air outside smells so good that you forget about the stinking interrogation room." ”

"Maybe." Camp nodded suspiciously, and continued down the stairs seemingly unconcerned, but his hand was already on the hilt of the sword at his waist.

He always felt that something was wrong.

Compared to Kemp, his companion Will is not at all guarded, living in the interrogation room at the bottom of the dungeon all the year round, Wilk has never encountered any special circumstances, and he does not think that there will be accidents here.

So compared to his companions, he walked with a swagger, and when he came to the door, he pushed the door in unsuspectingly.

Then he saw a bloody scene like a slaughterhouse in a corner of the small basement.

In the corner of the interrogation room, red, white, yellow, green, all kinds of viscous liquids and organs were pulled down from the long table and dripped, and the white epidermis that should have been skin was now torn like rags, piled up on the table and mixed with organs, which was extremely disgusting.

Although he has been in charge of interrogating prisoners all year round, Will still has a strong feeling of vomiting when he sees this scene, but compared to this, he cares more about another thing - the prisoner who was tied to the pillar is missing!

"What do you see?" Seeing that his companion suddenly stopped when he pushed open the door, Camp nervously drew his long sword.

"Yes—" Will in front of him opened his mouth to warn, but a red-hot soldering iron suddenly poked out from the shadow behind the door on the left, and inserted it into his newly opened mouth with precision and death!

Snort –

A strange evaporating sound followed, and the interrogator Will Ho Ho opened his mouth, wanting to scream but couldn't scream because of a blocked throat, and finally rolled his eyes and lay on his back with convulsions.

It sounded slow, but in fact it was only five or six seconds from the time he pushed the door to the time he passed out, and because of the narrowness of the door of the interrogation room, Camp didn't even know what had happened to his companion!

But when Will fell to the ground, he quickly got a good look.

The little white-faced prisoner who should have been firmly tied up actually broke free!

At this time, he was standing a few steps behind the door of the interrogation room, holding a red soldering iron in his left hand and sneering at himself!

"You'll regret it, boy!" One was inserted in the companion's mouth, and now the kid was holding another one in his hand, Camp couldn't help but be furious, he didn't know what was happening, he held the sword in both hands, and rushed to the target angrily!

It should be a livestock that can be slaughtered at hand, a plaything firmly controlled in his hands, but he didn't expect it to be counterattacked, which made the interrogator Camp feel a strange sense of humiliation!

He didn't think that he, who was tall and armed with a long sword, would not be able to defeat a young man with a short iron rod and who was not lightly wounded, and in fact, Charles could not do anything in this situation.

But he has helpers.

So when the interrogator rushed into the gate and was about to swing his long sword to slash the little white face in front of him to death, a hammer suddenly appeared on his right side, and it made a buzzing sound that broke through the air in midair, and collided with the rushing Camp head-on!

Bang –

The dizziness of the tremendous force filled his mind in an instant, and Camp was bleeding from the hammer's head, leaning back, and falling to the ground without the slightest struggle.

"How can there be anyone else?"

Before he passed out, he struggled to glance at the guy who had attacked him, but what caught his eye was a bloodshot skull in the white, teeth opening and closing, as if grinning at him silently.

"It's not ......human," he was relieved, and then plunged into the infinite darkness.

[Your skeleton ambushed the medieval inquisitor who whipped you, the target is dead, and you have gained a little knowledge of the Andals language]

A hint floated in his eyes, and Charles who was about to step forward to mend the knife stopped, he looked down at the enemy who he thought was just knocked unconscious, and then looked at the innocent bone frame with a "face" next to him, not quite sure what was going on right now.

Is it time to complain that the target is too ineffective, or is this sudden ability really catching people off guard?

However, whether he reacted or not, a memory of a certain language had already silently surfaced in his mind, giving Charles, who had no idea about this place, a little understanding.

Andal, the lingua franca of Westeros, this damn place under your feet is called Westeros?

Andals?

It was an unfamiliar word, and he didn't seem to have the slightest impression of it in his memory of Earth.

"So where the hell is this?"

"A game world?" Thinking of this unsuspecting ability, the thought crossed Charles' mind.

But what kind of game world would be so real? Pain, death, blood, violence......

Moreover, the memory in his head is not a simplified symbol, although it is not complete, but a glimpse of the whole picture can be seen, it is a real, very complex human language.

It's a real world, and that's no surprise!

"So it's a cheat too?" Pursed his lips secretly, the young man then put the question behind him, and he looked at the interrogator who had abused him for hours, but now fell at his feet and died silently, and he involuntarily felt as if he had suffered a loss.

"Originally, I wanted to give you a way to treat others the way they did...... It's really cheap for you. ”

Sighing, the young man bent down and picked up the long sword in the interrogator's hand, walked to the door of another interrogator who was really unconscious, used the sword with both hands as a stick, aimed it at his heart, and slammed it down.

"You didn't provoke me, but I had to escape, so I'm sorry."

[You pierced the heart of the executioner in the interrogation room, the target is dead, you gain a little life energy, and the injuries on your body are relieved]

With this message, a cool sensation spread from the palm of his hand, wandering near the whip marks on his body, turning into a stinging pain and itching that began to nourish his flesh.

Charles looked down to see that some of the scars on his upper body had begun to stretch and close, and the pain of a strained muscle in his left chest had lessened.

After a few seconds, the energy was exhausted, and the injuries on his body were at least half healed.

"Weak? Life energy? ”

Another incomprehensible word, Charles shook his head, too lazy to think about it, pushed open the door and stepped out of the place.

Behind him, a white skeleton threw away its heavy hammer, bent down to grasp a long sword, and followed with the same steps.