In addition to recalling Azima and Rosser, he also wrote down the follow-up arrangements in passing.

Safe uranium mining is a time-consuming and laborious task, requiring not only detailed work procedures and monitoring nodes, but also a certain understanding of the work they are doing and meticulous follow-up.

Faced with the imminent threat of war, he naturally did not intend to come as normal.

The North Slope mine is a good example.

Buy death row prisoners directly from Duke Quinn and stuff them all into the ruins, without pay, vacation, or protective measures. With the promise of release after 10 years, he believed those would make the right choice between the gallows and the glimmer of life.

And the lords of various places are probably happy to exchange the lives of these scum for an extra income.

As a result, the 100 or so soldiers of the exploration team only need to be responsible for supervision and vigilance, and the requirements for protection are greatly reduced.

Sean is undoubtedly the most suitable person to manage.

Finally, at the end of the secret letter, Roland also made a special confession, asking the guards to find out the whereabouts of the "treasures" brought out of the ruins by people a hundred years ago.

After all, a few suspicious points in the rumors really made him a little concerned.

This unrecorded group seems to have an inexplicable veneration of radioactive elements, using ore-fired bricks to build sacrificial temples, using it to torture enemies, and even swallowing ore, as evidenced by the glowing green-glowing remains in Azima's eyes. While it is unclear whether their demise is directly related to this worship, it would be appropriate to call them radioactive.

Of course, the world is so big, and it is not unusual for any civilization to appear. What's really strange is that neither going deep into the mining area nor using the ore to make bricks can cause the effect of "flesh and blood festering". Even if you live in a mine and are exposed to all kinds of decay radiation for a long time, the result is that the chance of cancer attacks has skyrocketed, and you can live to be 80 years old, but in the end you only live to 66.

After all, relying on natural decay to release nuclides is simply too inefficient.

The rumored unlucky ghosts who died tragically did not seem to have died of cancer or complications of distortion, but rather to be affected by strong radiation.

The latter condition can only be met if the high-purity nuclear material is critically generated, producing a large number of neutron streams and hard γ rays instantaneously, but this is not the level that the radioactive group can achieve.

Roland does not rule out that the rumors themselves distort the facts, but more than one person should know about the tragic situation of the villagers at that time, and if it is true, the problem is likely to lie in those "treasures".

Only in this way can the ruins assume the role of an altar of execution—otherwise every prisoner can live for more than ten years before dying, and if this altar is not built into a high-rise apartment building, I am afraid that it will not be able to accommodate so many people.

It's a pity that hundreds of years have far exceeded Asha's backtime period, and now it is almost impossible to know what happened at that time, so Sean can only try his best.

He vaguely felt that the truth behind the rumors might not be so simple.

......

After Honey took the letters, Roland walked over to his desk and carefully examined the rubbings of the murals spread out.

Despite the strange and absurd nature of the distorted ink figures, he was able to discern the general subjects and objects—the subjects were mostly in the center of the scroll, with large, delicate outlines, representing the owners of the ruins, and the objects were much smaller, filling all corners, and the pain and fear could be felt in their hideous expressions.

This is probably the common trait of all intelligent beings – always thinking of themselves as the protagonists of historical history.

As Sean said, both the subject and the object have nothing to do with the devil, evil beasts, underwater civilizations and other known alien races, their shapes are really weird, some are like matchsticks, unable to distinguish limbs from head and tail, and some are like wriggling protozoa, all organs are hidden in the brain.

The content of the mural is not all about execution, and there are several rubbings depicting the battle between the subject and the object, which seem to be able to fly in the wind by swelling their bodies, and take advantage of high-altitude maneuvering to land in the rear of the enemy on a large scale to achieve a two-sided attack. The towering defensive line did nothing, the city was set on fire, and the subjects were crushed.

As long as you can distinguish the respective positions of the characters, you can roughly understand the events described in these seemingly crazy records.

"Huh?" Roland's gaze suddenly stopped on a picture.

"What's wrong?" the nightingale noticed something strange about him.

"Do you think you have seen the scene in this rubbing?" he walked over to the scroll and crouched down, which was the last paragraph describing the war: countless matchsticks merged into one, as if they wanted to fight to the death, but were still knocked to the ground by the subject. Blood flowed and gathered into a huge lake, and the surviving enemies fled to the sea, where they were killed by the pursuers, and the corpses even built a small hill in the middle of the sea.

"Hmm......" Nightingale looked at it for a long time, "except that the ink is used more, it doesn't seem to be any different from other drawings?"

Well, combat ability and artistic appreciation are indeed inherently contradictory. Roland raised his forehead and said, "You can help me get a map of the extreme south first." ”

"Understood. The latter quickly complied, delivering him a thick stack of maps, along with a dried fish.

Roland bit down on the dried fish, kept moving his hands, and after a while he found a partial aerial view of the endless cape.

At that time, in order to determine the location of Daqing Port, he had Lightning and Maisie draw a detailed map of this place, so he always left an impression. When the two were put together, he suddenly felt a layer of goosebumps on his back, his body was like overelectricity, and his fingertips were tingling.

The outlines in the two pictures overlapped!

Although there are differences in the details, the trend of the continental edge and the dividing line of the vortex sea is basically the same, and its similarity is more than eighty percent!

Could this be...... Is it a coincidence?

"Well, the place on this map is the Far South?" Nightingale also noticed that something was wrong, "Isn't that the settlement of the Sandmen?"

Roland didn't answer, but quickly swept through the remaining scrolls.

When he saw the penultimate one, the blood all over his body seemed to freeze.

I saw more than a dozen subjects gathered on a high platform, surrounding each other in a large circle, and in the circle floated an irregular polyhedron, with countless strange tentacles dancing on the surface, like the hair of a snake demon.

Sean hadn't seen this scene with his own eyes, so naturally he didn't know what was shown in the painting.

But Roland knew.

It was clearly a "relic of the gods".