Early in the morning, after opening the door, Sandru looked at the garbage on the ground in front of the door with an expressionless expression, and silently turned around and took out a broom and dustpan from behind the door to clean up the garbage on the ground. The rotten leaves and stinky bones weren't the most disgusting garbage he'd ever seen, and on the first night of the Byron Empire's knock, feces were splashed on the doors and windows of his house.

Even he himself was smashed several times by the children with half-dried donkey poop eggs.

He found the sheriff, he found the guard, he found the neighborhood councillor, but to no avail, and even these people didn't bother to say a word of sympathy, let alone arrest for him those who might have done such disgusting things.

And all this because he is a Byron.

The basic laws of the Byron Empire prohibit discrimination between races and races, so that almost all races live in a relatively equal environment, coupled with the reproductive isolation that has been broken in this world, the human blood in the Byron Empire is definitely not so clean, which is also the most critical point that the Desi people who have always paid attention to blood look down on the Byronic people.

Can a group of people who may have animal blood flowing in their veins still be called human?

Because of his beloved blue hair in the Byronic Empire, he didn't have a good life here, but he had to live here - his boss lived here, so he had to live here.

Thinking about a salary three times higher than that of the Byron empire every month, as well as more benefits and benefits, he endured.

After cleaning up the garbage at the door, I had a little breakfast, closed the door and wandered around the street. Since the knock of the Byron Empire, the work in the factory has stopped, and he does not need to work for the time being, of course, his salary is still paid as usual. Usually when he doesn't need to work, he will choose to find a tavern to have a drink, and watch those skilled women with fat buttocks and breasts standing on the stage scratching their heads and posing, and throwing a handful of copper coins when they are interested, which is okay on this day.

Today, when he was about to go to the tavern again, he was denied entry because he was a Byron!

Sandru's temper is not short-tempered, and the short-tempered people have already rolled up their bunks back home in the first week of coming to the Orlando Empire, and they can't stand the environment and atmosphere here, which is why his salary is three times higher than when he was back home.

But no matter how good-tempered a person is, he will also explode when he is faced with all kinds of garbage and feces everywhere he opens the door every morning, and when he wanders the street and wants to go into the tavern for a pastime and is rejected.

In front of everyone, under the disdainful gaze of the tavernkeeper, he blushed and waved his arms and shouted, "Oh! why do you treat me like this, you damn fellows, is it because I have blue hair?", he took a breath, and was about to continue yelling, when suddenly he heard someone in the crowd shouting, mongrel. In an instant, a stream of hot blood rushed to the top of his head, the corners of his eyes jumped, the muscles on his cheekbones twitched, and he shouted a little distortedly, "I really hope that the eggshell barrier will be broken, and at that time, I will see if you people dare to treat me like this!"

"You rude, ignorant, ignorant, and unknowing, like barbarians, deserve hell!"

After saying that, he pushed away the crowd and left without looking back, he needed to find a place to vent well.

But it is a pity that the skilled women who used to know only money now refuse to do his business with a straight face, and after cursing a few words again, he found his fellow Byron workers, and got drunk together, and staggered the day. None of the Byronians knew how long this would last, perhaps until the day when the Orlando Empire resisted Byron's invasion.

Or ...... , the day when the Byronic Empire really came in?

No one knows.

Early the next morning, Sandru, who had just woken up from a hangover, rubbed his swollen head and opened the door, took a deep breath of cool air, picked up a broom and dustpan and just cleaned the door quietly, and a group of neatly armed guards appeared in his sight. Somewhat confused, he took two steps back timidly, and stood on the threshold, looking at the guards.

There were many onlookers around, and the neighbors all had a gloating expression on their faces, whispering words like deserve to describe what was happening.

He was suddenly a little overwhelmed, he was trying to think about everything that had happened recently, he hadn't done anything, he was already discriminated against by the mainstream of this empire, how could he dare to make a mistake or even commit a crime?

"Mr. Sandru, on behalf of His Excellency Count Joberg, Lord of Milin City and Governor of Bell Province, I am formally reading to you the latest local laws and regulations. With that, he took out a scroll from the pocket he was wearing on his belt, opened it, and read it out in public, "From this day forward, all Byronians must move to live in a designated place three kilometers outside the city of Mirein, and must not leave until the end of the war." In view of the fact that the two countries are currently at war, in order to avoid unnecessary suspicion and conflict, all Byronic property will be temporarily sealed, and at the same time, in order to show the support of the Byron people living in the empire for the empire, the empire will requisition the property, wealth, and materials of the Byronic people for a fee. During this special period, all behavior, language, and behavior of the Byronic people will be strictly controlled. ”

"If you have any objections, you can appeal to the Supreme Prosecutor's Office and the Supreme Court of the Imperial Central Imperial Capital in Orlando. ”

"Now, please cooperate with us. ”

The guard withdrew the scroll, tilted his head slightly, and the two guards pounced like wolves, directly cutting Sandru's hands behind his back and tying them up with ropes. Perhaps intentionally, or unintentionally, they strangled Sandru's mouth with a rope so that he could not say a clear word. Another soldier closed the door to Sandru's quarter, sealed it and locked a lock.

They pushed Sandru down the street like a prisoner, and Sandru, who had realized what was happening, suddenly struggled violently. He didn't know what he was going to face, but he knew one thing, that is, if he followed these people out of here honestly today, maybe he wouldn't have a chance to come back.

He twisted his limbs and ran into the crowd, but he was not a strong professional after all, and his struggle against these strong guards was as weak and ridiculous as a worm in the hands of giants. The soldier behind him raised his scythe and slammed it into his thigh, the blade of the scythe cut a cut in his thigh, and the blood instantly stained the clothes near the wound, and he staggered to the ground.

He let out a pig howl, and looked desperately at the Desi around him, how he wished that someone would stand up for him, or plead for him. However, all he faced was schadenfreude and fierce eyes, tears welled up from his eyes unconsciously, and in the face of an unknown future, fear consumed his heart and all the courage in him.

Shouting inaudible words, he rolled on the ground, unwilling to be pulled up by the guards, but when he saw the two guards draw their long swords from their waists, their eyes shining with bloodthirsty excitement, his body suddenly stiffened and he did not move.

He could see that these people really wanted to kill him, and he didn't want to die, so he stopped struggling and let the guards pull him up.

He limped down the street as the guards pushed him down, and the onlookers looked at him with ridicule or contempt as if a needle had been stuck in his chest.

Out of the street, he paused for a moment, for he saw a huge wagon for camels carrying grain, and it was crowded with Byronic men he knew and did not know, including his boss and his co-workers.

The men were tethered like cattle, and several of them still had wounds on their bodies, apparently with a little resistance before they were caught in the wagon.

There was a sudden pain in his buttocks, and the guards behind him kicked him in the buttocks, kicking him and stumbling into the carriage. The guards didn't care that his head was bruised, and they grabbed his trouser leg and ignored the wound on his leg, and lifted him into the carriage.

The embarrassed Sandru looked at his compatriots who were also embarrassed and sighed faintly.

The carriage moved slowly, and ran out along the avenue of Milin City, and after running on the official road for about twenty minutes, Sandru and the others saw the place where they were going to live for the rest of the day.

A place like a prison!

The three-meter-high barbed wire fence is full of barbed barbed spines, and every twenty meters is an arrow tower, in which people can be faintly seen walking back and forth. In the middle of this huge barbed wire fence, there was a lot of timber, and a group of Byronians had already been imprisoned here. They were working, as if they were building a dwelling for themselves. The carriage descended several layers of obstacles into the world of barbed wire, stopping at the edge of a ditch.

The guards drove them all down with whips and sticks, and made them stand in a row on the edge of the ditch.

Sandru felt that his thighs were almost unconscious, but when he tried to say something, the vicious guards whipped him in the face, pumping his words into his throat.

"From this day forward, you will have a code name that belongs to you, and until the end of the war, you must remember your code name, because it is related to your life and supplies. A young man in a gray uniform shook the whip in his hand, raised his chin, and glanced contemptuously at the group of Byronians, "Untie the ropes for them." ”