Deep in the neighborhood where the Basra live, a newly uncovered crook counts the coins in his pocket. The pen and the fun www.biquge.info seemed to have a good harvest, and there were about two hundred copper coins in a pile, and seven or eight silver coins. He lived in a small house, dark and damp, and the walls were crawling with blue-black mold due to lack of care, and it smelled of peculiarity.

He laughed as he counted, and his smile was filled with a kind of proud pride, and it was clear that he did not feel the slightest remorse for cheating someone out of their money. He pulled out a large piece of roast meat from the paper bag beside him, as well as a small flask with the smell of alcohol wafting through it. Mouthful of barbecue, he would take a sip of the flask and take a sip from time to time, and he didn't look like a serious Basra at all.

"I made a little more than six silver coins this time, and the city really lacks spending potential, and it's almost time for me to change places. He drank some wine, a little smoky, and said to himself, "Damn it, how did you cross over to this place?" And, God, did you forget to give me the golden finger? If it weren't for Dad, I would have a little knowledge necessary for a traverser, wouldn't I be played to death by you?"

"Well, this world is so hierarchical, the first thing to solve should be the identity problem, otherwise you will never be safe. He scratched his head and fell directly on the mat, "Where can I get an identity? How good would it be if I crossed directly into a nobleman? How can I have so many troubles, just eat, drink and have fun, and think about it." ”

"I don't know if the nobles have the right to the first [ahh ”

"Get some gunpowder out in a few days, someone should know the goods, right?!"

"I'm so homesick...... Mom, Dad, I'll never see you again, I miss you so much......"

Blair listened outside the ventilated door as the Basra man inside babbled in a language he had never heard before, and he couldn't understand this self-talk, was this man a madman, or a fool? When a deafening snoring came from the room, Blair made a mark and turned away. Wren told him to keep an eye on this guy, but he didn't let him take any further action, he had to go back to his life first, and then ask what to do with this guy.

When Blair returned to where the carriage had stopped, Wren was chatting with a Basra man, and Celeste was holding his little face in a daze under the firelight.

"I see, are you interested in immigrating?", Wren's smile was particularly kind, and if you ignore his status as a golden nobleman, he would be like ...... , Blair had a word in his head that seriously tarnished the aristocracy - liar. Wren heard heavy, familiar footsteps, and he glanced over at Blair, raised his chin at the wooden pier beside him, and motioned for him to sit down. He then turned his head to face the old man in his fifties, whose face was as wrinkled as a canyon, "I'm sincere, have you ever considered immigration?"

There were not many teeth left in the shriveled mouth of the old man Basra, and the few that remained were yellow and black. He glanced at Blair behind Wren and shook his head, "Our ancestors were born here, grew up here, and died here. Without oracles, we would not have left our territory. No one, including you Desi, can drive us away!"

The tone of the old Basra is very blunt, perhaps because of their rigidity and conservatism, the younger generation of this group lacks a sense of identity with their own blood, thus influencing a large number of young Basra to turn themselves into Desi.

Wren wasn't kidding, he had read the General History of the Continent, which introduced the Basra people, saying that the Basra people were one of the oldest races, and had been going on from the reign of the elves to the present day. And the most interesting thing is that this once incomparably large ethnic group, neither in the past nor in the present, has ever established a real political power. In other words, this is a group of people who have no ambitions. The reason why he invited the Basra people to emigrate to Ortlenburg was because of their ability to survive in the wilderness.

Take a look at what is around Ortlenburg.

Dense forests, hills, mountains, canyons, primeval forests...... And if all, no, even half of the Ortlenburgers became excellent wilderness survival specialists, excellent hunting specialists, excellent warriors, what else would Wren have to fear?

This is not the modern society where spy satellites can show everything in detail. If Wren has mastered an army of three or five thousand men, which can hide in the field for months or even longer, and this army will never appear in people's sight, but can travel thousands of miles to attack anywhere, this is the nuclear weapon of this era, and it is a strategic-level strike force.

Wren was so sincere that he even promised to paint the primeval forest for the Basra as a new reservation. But the old man of Basra, who seemed to be highly respected, did not care, and always adhered to the so-called oracle.

What was the oracle of the Basra? Wren didn't know, but he wanted to figure it out.

Unable to convince the old man, Wren got up and walked aside, "Find out where that person lives?"

Blair patted his chest, "It's all marked, that guy drank some wine, and now he's sleeping properly, are you going to get him back?"

Wren looked at the Basra man on the edge of the fire and bowed slightly, "Don't make any noise, it's better to get that guy quietly." Drive the carriage out of the city first. Wren beckoned to Celeste, and the little girl was stunned for a moment before she came back to her senses, her face was slightly red, and she didn't know if she was roasted by the fire or because she was in a daze.

"Are you leaving?", the little girl looked up at Wren, who nodded, "Yes, it's time to hit the road." ”

The little girl said yes weakly, grabbed the silver handrail and jumped into the carriage, Wren stared at Blair with his eyes, signaled him to be cautious, and then followed.

The carriage slowly left Ilwolf and came to a halt about a mile outside the city. Blair took off his coat and changed into a dress that was not revealing in Ilwolf, and at the same time changed into a rapier, and quickly disappeared from Wren's sight after greeting Wren.

He found the unlucky guy according to his own memories and with the help of the marker, and the reason why Blair thought he would be unlucky was because Wren did not "invite" him to go, but "kidnapped" him. This shows that Wren will not entertain him warmly, but you can imagine what he will face.

At this time, the young Basra man was still asleep, his sleeping appearance was extremely ugly, his limbs stretched out, and the slightly damp quilt that smelled sour was kicked aside. Blair thrust his sword into the crack in the door, and the battle rage erupted, and the sword was covered with a layer of red light. With the force of his wrist, the thin sword struck upward, and with almost no resistance, the deadbolt was cut in two. Blair untied a sack from his waist, took out a piece of rope and gestured at the guy on the ground, and then kicked it over.

This sleep happened to kick the Basra man's jaw, and the force used was so delicate that the Basra man twitched and fell into a coma. Blair tied him tightly, then tore a corner from the sour and fishy cup and stuffed it into the mouth of the Basra, and then put him in a sack and strode away against his shoulder.

Along the way, he did not hide or hide, and so openly kidnapped a Basra man, and he was still in Ilvov.

After he joined Wren, the carriage studded with the garland of golden thorns began to pick up speed again, quickly disappearing into the wilderness.

It would probably be many days before it became clear that there was one young Basra missing from the city.

The infraternal and vibrational effects of the rolling wheels made people drowsy, and the sack in the corner of the carriage suddenly moved, followed by a murmuring sound. Celeste hid on the other side, a little scared. In the world she knows and sees, everyone is a humble gentleman, and everything is full of justice and light. A kidnapping like today's was the first time Celeste had come into contact with something on the dark side, and while she was timid, she also had a hint of excitement and guilt about doing something bad.

Wren perked up and uncovered the sack, revealing the head of the Basra. The young Basra did not show the anger he deserved, but calmly examined the interior of the carriage. His gaze finally fell on Wren's, furrowing his brows and uttering a few syllables.

Wren removed the fabric from his mouth and sat to the side, looking at him.

The Basra man gasped and exhaled slowly, "Okay, please tell me, what do you need me to do?"

Wren showed a particularly happy smile, and there was a hint of unpredictable murder in his seemingly cunning eyes, "The glass is well made, enough for you to fool those fools, let's talk about it, this is the first time you have deceived people?"

Basra was stunned for a moment and sighed, "I knew, I knew, I should be more careful!I ......", his body shook violently, trembled, and looked at Wren in horror, "You...... Are you speaking Chinese?!"

"If you think I'm talking about official Orlando, I don't care. Wren was quickly calculating in his heart, how to squeeze as much use value out of this guy as possible, "My name is Wren, what's your name?"

Celeste on the side looked at Wren adoringly, she couldn't understand the conversation between the two, but she could more or less understand that the language in which the two communicated was definitely a particularly rare language, and she hadn't even heard of these pronunciation methods.

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To be clear, there will never be two protagonists in this book, and I'm sure everyone already knows what will happen to this time-traveler. I don't like to abuse the master, I don't abuse the master, and I don't abuse the plot. I need a reasonable way to get something into Wren's hands in some form, and it's a bit of a spoiler, but to avoid misunderstandings, it's okay.