Orgrimmar, an underground fortress.

The corpses of the heroes fell to the ground like broken sacks, and all the troops were wiped out.

Because the Twilight Realm has completely closed the halls, all of the Chieftain's Guards and the Mantis forces sent by the Council of Karaksi to support them have been surrendered here.

At this point, Garrosh is no longer any different from Commander Lights.

Oh no, there's a difference, at the bottom of the underground fortress, there's a massive military factory, where the goblins of the Rusty Water Chaebol build all kinds of war machines day and night.

However, Gary Vickers, who has become the last line of defense, is not in such a glorious mood at the moment.

More than any loyalty to the tribe, the trade prince valued the policy support that Garrosh brought to him, and the large amount of gold that fell into his pocket.

And now, even fools can see that Garrosh is going to be finished, and he will go from being a high tribal chief to a prisoner who is likely to be publicly executed.

I can't afford to bury him, can I?

So Gary Vickers took the initiative to open the heavy iron gate of the fortress of the military factory, and the dozen or so engineering lines inside were displayed in front of the rebels.

"I surrender! Surrender! Don't attack, we won't fight the Rusty Water Chaebol!"

Gary Vickers rode in a large goblin lumberjack, raised his megaphone, and shouted at the rebel bosses.

However, this big goblin is not stupid, he kept an eye on it, although he shouted surrender, but the employees of the rusty water chaebol under his command did not lay down their weapons, and all assembly lines and arms warehouses were on standby.

What are you kidding, your own life is very expensive, in case the rebels are not willing to give yourself a life...

"Gary Vickers, your surrender is acceptable, but your Rusty Water Plutocracy will no longer be dominated by the Clan's elves, and the Board of Directors of the Goblin Syndicate will replace your dictatorship. Of course, you will still get a part of the seats on this board, which is already the maximum tolerance for you as a war criminal. ”

Ahhhhh

If you really want to do this, how many gold coins do you have to earn!?

Gary Vickers, who had just thought that his life was incomparably valuable, immediately changed his mind, and he decided to put his love for gold coins above his life.

"Fart! The rusty water chaebol is the future of the goblins! What kind of syndicate do those vulgar and mentally retarded ordinary goblin workers want to form? Eat shit! I will fight to the end for my rights and for my gold!"

Gary Vickers yelled in a shrill voice, and his excellent qualities of asking for money and dying were on display.

"The military industry is still in charge of your rusty water chaebol, and the civilian side will be decided by the Goblin Joint Board of Directors. ”

Thrall shook a contract over and calmly stared at the Trade Prince sitting on the goblin lumberjack as he spoke, drawing the hammer of destruction and holding it in his hand.

"Deal, Employees, lay down your arms and surrender!"

Gary Vickers quickly glanced at the contract, since the most profitable military industry is still in charge of the Rusty Water Chaebol, then after having the gold coins, it is time to consider his own life.

The military industry continues to be in charge of the Rusty Water Chaebol, and Thrall also has his own considerations, after all, only the Rusty Water Chaebol has a large amount of accumulated experience and technology in manufacturing arms and weapons, and those ordinary goblins who rebelled, except for the commercial trade that all goblins can do, and ordinary goblin engineering, do not have any weapons and weapons manufacturing technology that the tribe needs.

To put it bluntly, these goblins who work for the Rusty Water Chaebol are assembly line workers.

At present, the only recognized goblin arms and weapons manufacturing technology, in addition to the big goblin Hesuo and his Hesuo chaebol of the Night Empire, is only the Trade Prince Gary Vickers and his Rusty Water Chaebol.

Further back, there are hot sand consortiums and venture capital companies, but these two neutral goblin groups are heavily biased towards commercial trade, so although they do have some unique arms and weapons manufacturing technology, they are far less than the two giants who specialize in arms in front of them.

The rest are ordinary goblins like the Orgrimmar uprising, they don't strictly belong to any goblin group, at most they are just workers, mechanically completing the requirements given to them by the boss, and as for the technical aspects, they will not be understood.

Yes, each of them understands goblin engineering, and can easily create all kinds of bombs or engineering devices, but this is not at the same level as munitions.

Just because he can make bombs doesn't mean he has the ability to build war machines.

Artillery fireworks and high-explosive incendiary bombs, goblin dragon guns and steam tanks, two simple examples, the difference and the technical gap between them, are not a little bit.

So Gary Vickers was relieved, as long as the tribe didn't force himself to disclose the arms technology mastered by the Rusty Water Chaebol to all the goblins, then even if he lost the meat of civil trade, it would not be considered a bone-wrenching.

After signing the contract, the trade prince immediately changed into a spring-like smile, jumped off his logging machine, and dragged Sal to visit the dozen or so munitions lines here.

"Aha, in order to show my sincerity, I am willing to transfer all the tanks and artillery ordered by Garrosh to the new government of the rebels free of charge!"

Well, using Garrosh money to show their sincerity, only the goblins can play without stress.

With the last obstacles over, there were no more enemies in front of the rebels, and the deepest hall where Garrosh was located was no longer defended.

Deep in the hall, Garrosh heard the noise coming from the hallway outside and turned around.

The Heart of Ashath hung from the wall behind him, held firmly in place by several thick chains.

Looming twilight energy emanated from the heart, connecting to Garrosh's body like a conduit, continuously pumping the power of the heart to it.

"Stop it, Garrosh, you're not doing it for the Horde, you're pushing the Horde into the abyss. ”

A group of figures appeared at the other end of the hall, and Thrall held the Hammer of Destruction and looked at Garrosh in front of the heart in the hall below.

"It's you, it's you who chose me! It's you who made me carry this heavy responsibility! Since you don't trust me, then why did you choose me in the first place!"

Garrosh roared at Thrall, holding a large axe made of evil energy, with several eyeballs and tentacles growing on it.

"You were loyal to the tribe, you were still proud and just, but now it's all gone. ”

"Hahaha, you are not qualified to judge me, let alone accuse me! All this I have done is for the sake of the tribe!"

Sal sighed heavily.

"So, let's fight. ”

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