It's really a probability math problem. Dead people are not terrible, as long as one out of a hundred people survives, this captivity is successful. Of course, not all gangs can have the "one hundred to one" kind of luck. But even if this probability expands to 1,000 to 1, or even higher, it will still be worth it in the eyes of some.

After all, human life is not valuable.

There is a third type of "edible immunizer" ———— maniac.

They were either scared mad alive or forcibly driven mad. The process itself is not important, the result is a mental disorder, a complete loss of mind.

To sum up, the human rebels who invaded Wusu City did not find too many murderous corpses, and it was natural to attribute it to the early competition for corpses by major gangs. At the scene of the battle, a considerable number of the murderous corpses were chopped up with knives. It was due to the bitter hatred of the rebels, and some people believed that the decomposed corpses were easier to transport...... In short, except for the leader of the "Rescuer" gang, ****, he did not pay attention to the problem that the number of murderous corpses killed in battle was too small.

The chaotic city is gradually returning to order, at least on the surface.

The armed rebels escorted the groups of retained prisoners of war along the city's inner roads and toward the outskirts of the city.

The cold winter has passed, and the raging heat is gradually seizing control of the world. The prisoners of war were ragged and bloodstained, and some of the weaker ones had exhausted their physical strength from the previous battle and could not go far before they went limp and fainted on the ground.

Whenever this happens, the rebel soldier in charge of guarding the guard next to him will walk over with a sinister smile, draw a short-handled machete stuck diagonally behind his back, and with an undisguised coldness and cruelty on his face, he will scream and cut off the unconscious person's head.

There are so many reasons to point to these fainting people: they are playing dead, lazy, they don't want to walk, they just want to get in the car, they are used to staying in the office and bragging, but they don't want to march long distances...... Very well, since you use all kinds of excuses to shirk, and even deliberately pretend to be dead to test Lao Tzu's patience, then let you change from a state of suspended animation to eternal real death.

This is the power of the victors, and the most direct revenge for the surrendered corpse slaves!

The wind swept through the sand, swirling in circles on the ground, striking the captives hard. The blood had dried up and turned into a hard lump that had solidified on the surface of the cloth. The great mental and physical wear and tear left the prisoners of war drowsy and languishing. They were almost shuffling their feet forward. There were armed rebels on both sides, looking at it with expressionless faces, maintaining order. Sometimes they picked up the butt of their rifle and threw it at the shoulder of a target, sometimes picking up stones from the ground and throwing them at the place where the captives were most concentrated. Whatever they did, they would cause a shrill scream, followed by a moment of panic from the semi-conscious state of the POWs, panicked expressions, and moving forward at an accelerated pace, which also caused laughter among the resistants.

Outside the city, a new prisoner of war camp has been set up. In fact, it was to remove the signboard that had been hung at the gate of the "second-class slave management camp" and write "prisoner of war camp" in three eye-catching characters on the doorpost with eye-catching white paint.

The so-called "second-class slave" is a special term for human beings by murderous corpses. That refers to those who are relatively thin and have little food value, and must be re-fattened before they can be sent to food processing plants. In this sense, the "second-class slave management camp" was more like a sanatorium in peacetime. The human slaves who were sent in were able to receive enough food and enjoy a rare peace of mind until they regained their health and gained weight.

Mamaiti had been sent back by sleepers about food rations for "second-class slave management camps". These include: 800 grams of rice and flour staple food (cooked, containing water) per capita (if it is a porridge soup type, it will be increased appropriately according to the specific situation), 200 grams of meat, 500 grams of vegetables, 100 grams of protein food, 50 grams of fat, 50 grams of sugar, 20 grams of salt, and 50 grams of high-starch foods (such as potatoes).

The term "protein food" is not fixed, nor is it an egg as it is commonly understood. It was a lumpy body that was made with special technology under the auspices of the human technician who surrendered to the corpse. It is brown or black in appearance, high in protein and with a hint of salt, but it smells like a rotten egg in hot weather.

This kind of thing is definitely not delicious, it is purely a supplement developed for the needs of the human body. Sticky, like gummy candy about to melt, very sticky to your teeth, it won't melt in your mouth for a short time. Someone once thought it was too hard to chew, so they creatively soaked it in hot water and drank it after it melted. But in the end, he miscalculated, because the protein lumps that melted into a liquid were much worse than those in the solidified state: they smelled worse than, and the taste in the mouth was indescribable. In short, it definitely doesn't make you feel pleasant, and it can't be associated with something good.

As many as thousands of attached prisoners of war entered the camp, the heavy iron gates slowly closing behind them. They distinctly heard the clasp of metal clasping. At this moment, all the prisoners of war of the attached army realized that they were no longer what they used to be, and that their old lives might never be repeated. We lost everything, and it was completely finished.

This is a real prison. However, the overall color tone is very strange, not the usual dark gray, but bright yellow mixed with tender green. Especially on the walls of the POW camp towers, you can even see large flower motifs.

All of them are masterpieces of murderous corpses. Their starting point for thinking about the problem is pure, far from the complex and strange thinking of human beings———— the conceptual components of food deliciousness are very detailed, but in any case, emotional sadness can cause humans to secrete trace hormones, which can lead to changes in the quality of meat. Sour, hard, and even inexplicably bitter...... All of these are unacceptable and extremely disgusting to the murderous corpses.

Only happy humans eat best. This mood is an important tasty additive in second order after "beautiful appearance". Murderous corpses also like cheerful, sunny humans. Of course, I don't get along with it, but eat it as a snack.

Therefore, the prisoner of war camp should be built as much as possible to make people look like a paradise, not a place of confinement that makes people feel depressed, depressed, and associated with "death" at any time.

Now, the owner here has changed.

No one likes the feeling of being pointed at gunpoint, not to mention the fact that there are now as many as 100 armed rebels standing on the guard tower, creating a terrible sense of oppression for the prisoners of war attached to the army. To make matters worse, there was a faint scream from the depths of the building, only to be too far away to be heard. God knows what it sounds, but it's definitely not pleasant.

The retainer prisoners of war gathered, and great fear gripped them. Some people were trembling all over their bodies, others were chattering their teeth, and some even bit their lips hard and sobbed quietly.

A tall, imposing middle-aged man stepped onto the high platform and scanned the prisoners of war at his feet with a cold gaze.

"I'd love to screw your heads off. I don't like you dog mongrels at all. ”

"You've done too many bad things. I won't go into the specifics, you know very well what you are doing. You have renounced your qualifications as human beings to stand with those monsters. How many people did you kill? And how many people are sent to food processing plants? Maybe you can't even count them yourself. It's kind of God's eyes, you scoundrels are full. I'm going to teach you what it means to be a real human being. ”

The middle-aged man was wearing a lead-gray military-style civilian suit, apparently a new item that he had just gotten from a warehouse in the city. His long black leather boots were shiny, and he looked down, screaming angrily as he searched the crowd with a devilish gaze to find the man who was crying in a low voice.

He quickly found his goal.

It was a young man with a thin build. The footsteps were vague, and the collar of the top, which had been ripped off, was spread out, revealing a clearly recognizable collarbone. The chin is pointed, the skin is excessively white, and the hairstyle is not the usual slab or bald head, but the one that falls down from the forehead and has a little hair to block the eyes.

He was visibly frightened, his eyes filled with fear, and he curled up behind a tall man. Unfortunately, this disguise did not work, and the middle-aged man standing on the high platform saw him at a glance, smiled evilly, and took the assault rifle from the guard next to him.

Aim, shoot. The bullets that came out of the chamber first hit the tall man in front of him, then into the young man's shoulder, then into his neck, and finally into his cheek. Blood splattered everywhere, and he screamed as he crawled through the crowd, falling hard, twisting and rolling in pain between the dirty dirt and the soles of countless people's shoes.

The chaos continued, and there were signs of fermentation expanding into a collective revolt by all the prisoners of war. At this moment, gunshots rang out from the surrounding guard towers, and a terrifying warning came from the tweeter.

"Stand honestly in place, anyone who dares to move will be shot at the first time."

There are still a few guys who don't believe in evil, and they have a nimble brain, and they turn around and pounce on the big iron gate that has been closed, trying to pull the bolt hard and escape. Such an act was confirmed by death to be extremely stupid. They instantly attracted all the firepower from the guard tower, and were beaten into a sieve on the spot, lying on the ground or leaning against the wall, as if they were hellish sculptures made of flesh and blood.

Looking at the shocked prisoners of war, a hint of mockery appeared on the face of the middle-aged man on the high platform.

"You now have the right to choose. Remember, this is your last chance. Willing to leave the past behind and become a warrior fighting alongside us? Or do you want to act as a monster's thug with stubborn thoughts? The choice is yours. ”

(End of chapter)