A wooden rice bowl was thrown to the ground with a thud, and Ewell looked at Marton outside the cage with a calm gaze, and there was not a trace of anger on her face.

Marton was a little flustered by her gaze and looked aside. But then, he became angry, here he is the worthy master, whether it is Ewelly in this cage, or the little poor in other cages, they are only his slaves, they are all his commodities. There is no reason why a commodity can force back the gaze of an owner, why would she dare to do so?

The bulltail whip, which was more than a meter long, slammed into the cage fiercely, making a metallic impact sound, and the entire cage shook slightly.

The expression on Marton's face was a little crazy, a little hideous, and he kicked over the rice bowl next to the cage, and the wheat soup mixed with some vegetable stalks was overturned and flowed on the ground, exuding a hint of heat. He spat in the puddle of food and walked away without looking back. He didn't believe that he couldn't subdue this rich chick, knowing that none of the goods that passed through his hands could survive to the end.

One by one, the cages walked over, and some people couldn't bear the torture and chose to give up, so as to get more superior treatment. Others, like Ewell, chose to continue the struggle, huddled in a cage for dogs, enduring the pain of not being able to stretch their bodies.

It was the third day, and Ewell looked at Marton who had left, and began to make an unknown number of attempts. She had realized what had happened to her, and she had heard similar things from the human traders on the ice fields. After she woke up on the first day, she tried to condense the magic in her body, but she didn't know what kind of alchemy potion Marton used, so that the magic in her body could not be well condensed.

Those usually very obedient magic are like wild horses that have gone berserk, and they almost hurt her by going on a rampage unscrupulously. As the past few days passed slowly, the magic of disobedience began to gradually subside, and they became a little obedient.

She squinted her eyes, her attention focused on her body, and the magic in her whole body was like a river. There were still vortices in some places, but that didn't stop her from using some magic that didn't require much magic. She opened her eyes violently, reached out and grabbed the thumb-thick iron railing, and the magic overflowed down her palm, exuding a faint chill. A moment later, she pulled hard, and the frozen iron railing made a crisp crunch, breaking in her hand.

Unbeknownst to Marton, one of his favorite items was about to break out of his cage, and he was negotiating with two merchants from the Federation. The Confederation was located further east of the Byron Empire, and was made up of many city-states and small states, and the ruling system of the Confederation was very different from that of this side. They had no emperor, and the supreme rulers were the twelve supreme councillors elected from among the many governors of the federation, who ruled the country.

Elections are held every eight years, and everyone has a chance, and the system seems to Marton to be a joke. A country that does not even have an orthodox emperor deserves to be a small country forever.

Marton, who lived in the imperial realm, secretly despised the two barbarians, of course, he could not put his inner expression on his face, and he hoped that the two rich merchants would give him more orders.

Just as the commoners living at the bottom always yearn for aristocratic ladies, the merchants of the Federation also prefer women from the Byron Empire and even the Orlando Empire. Of course, they knew that with their current environment, they would not attract many women from the empire, and they could only obtain them through trade. And, they will pay a price that is significantly higher than everyone else's.

While the three of them were talking, Marton's butler hurried in, his face extremely pale and his face covered with beads of sweat.

The weather was not hot at this time, and the temperature in spring was only twenty-three or four degrees, Marton frowned, stood up in a confession, and greeted him.

"What's wrong, hurry?", when he said this, Marton already had a bad premonition in his heart. What he is doing is not a legitimate business, and there are serious problems. It's good if nothing happens, but if something happens, it's a big problem. His heart was beating like a fierce drumbeat, and he squeezed his hands and stared at the butler.

The butler took a deep breath and held his breath before slowing his breathing, "Did you catch a half-orc woman?

Half-orc women are indeed one of the main business directions of Marton, firstly, because this group is born cheap, even if they are kidnapped, they will not make a big trouble. Secondly, the orcs are accustomed to it, and many orcs even feel that being a slave is more comfortable, happier, and less troublesome than when they were untouchables.

There are not no handsome men and beautiful women among the orcs, and under the appearance of multi-racial characteristics, there are often some particularly handsome and beautiful half-orcs, most of these orcs are mainly humans, and there are a few orc characteristics left, which are more popular than pure orcs, and are easy to sell for a high price.

Marton's tightly clenched brow immediately relaxed, "Orc, why don't you just give them a little money?"

The housekeeper stomped his feet anxiously, "I can't get rid of it, they must find their companions this time, if you can't give them an explanation, they say they will give you an explanation!"

"Ha, what a big breath!", Marton couldn't help but be furious, if he encountered orcs or humans to make trouble, even if the orcs dared not to give him face? Yes, he was indeed a disgraceful slave trader, but it was not something that orcs could deceive. He immediately said, "Let them be driven ......"

There was a loud bang, and the house shook as a group of orcs kicked open half of the door and broke in from the outside. These sturdy half-orcs wore only leather skirts, and their exposed bodies were filled with explosive and aesthetic muscles. They had sticks in their hands, their eyes were wild, and they choked him back on the rest of Marton's words.

The leader of the half-orcs was powerful, and the stick he was holding was a man tall, and he tapped the ground with the head of the club, making a crisp knocking sound, staring at Marton, "You are Marton?"

Marton's reputation is nothing in high society, and the big people will only smile when they talk about him, for fear that talking too much will affect their style. But for these people at the bottom of society, Marton is really not a small person. For the social environment at the bottom, the indicator of a person's ability is not how powerful he is, nor what kind of relationship he has, but whether he has money in his hands.

Money is a pass to the bottom society, and countless people can kill people for a gold coin, so money is almost omnipotent at the bottom.

Marton is very rich, and his social level is not high, so he has a certain reputation among the orcs.