When Merlin Avery regained consciousness, he found himself lying in the dark, with half a bundle of straw on his pillow, covered with a foul, crude hide. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

The young apprentice got up as quickly as he could, and checked his belongings. Luggage and thick cloaks were placed next to the beds, and the most important clay pots were not missing, but each showed signs of being opened, and about a tenth of the metal powder was taken from them.

It seems that the Flying Wing Team was not able to intercept the driver. This is not surprising, although the members of the winged troops of the city-state of Minnesota are all very elite molten gold warriors, it is impossible to capture a mentor-level molten gold warrior unless a strong person at the level of a captain or even a captain is dispatched.

As soon as the door rang, the gray morning light poured in with the cold wind, clearing the muddy and smelly smell of the room. The coachman, dressed in civilian clothes, walked in, carrying a large wooden plate, two rusty gunpowder pistols tucked into his belt, and a series of vials of metal solution that Avery looked familiar to him.

"I'm ......," Avery began, startled by his own hoarse voice, "I...... How long have you been in a coma?"

"About eighteen hours, and now it's dawn the next day. The coachman replied in a gentle tone as he placed the wooden plate on the low table in the room, "I'm sorry, man, I miscalculated the extent to which the timing disruption affects you, and your mental strength may be a little overdrawn...... How do you feel now?"

Avery glanced at the wooden plate and saw a few pieces of charred black bread and a bowl of cold cereal, and looked away without much appetite. "It's fine, just a bit of a headache. He shook his head almost perfunctorily, "Sir, now that you're safe, when can I leave?"

The coachman smiled meaningfully, "I don't think a smart person should ask the question. He made a slight gesture to throw away, "Man, you should ask me: Who are you? What is this place?"

Avery opened his mouth, cursing, yelling, and even yelling. But the danger hidden beneath the coachman's smiling expression was so obvious that Avery feared that the outcome would be terrible.

Even without considering the deterrence that comes with being a wanted criminal, a mentor deserves the respect of his apprentice, a rule that no alchemist should violate. Avery smiled wryly at the end.

"Well, sir, what is this place?"

"You don't want to know who I am?" the coachman raised an eyebrow.

"Not at all, sir, your identity must have reminded me of many bad things. Avery shook his head repeatedly, "You are an excellent molten gold warrior, at least at the level of a mentor, and this status is enough to exempt you from most criminal facts. In this way, some of your actions must be hated by the Archons, and they are unwilling to issue **** orders for you, right?"

The coachman was stunned for a moment, then laughed, "Of course, that's it." Man, you're such a funny guy. He patted Avery on the shoulder, "This is Scrap Iron, and since you don't want to know who I am, call me Old Ola." After resting and fully recovering, I want to talk to you. ”

Avery didn't want to talk to old Ola, he just wanted to get out of here, even if it was much safer to go back to Broughfry. The name of Scrap Iron Town was unfamiliar to him, and it was clear that either he had been taken far away while unconscious, or that the name of the place was inconsistent with the name marked on the official map, and was a private name given by the rebels.

Yes, in just a few words of conversation, Merlin Avery had already guessed about Ola Sr. and the forces he represented. In addition to the rebels, as ordinary civilians call them, and freedom fighters, as they call themselves, there are official and unofficial names such as traitors, ghosts of hell, messengers of death, evil people, impure ones, blasphemers, servants of chaos, and scourge of empires.

In a word, being involved with these people means that Merlin Avery is in great trouble.

Old Ola clearly had a lot to do, and when the conversation was over, he quickly left the room where Avery was resting. When the footsteps faded from near to far, Avery took a closer look at the room where he was resting, despite his hungry rumbling stomach.

The name Scrap Iron has a bit of a playful flavor to it, but Avery thinks it does say a lot about it. The room was not spacious, and it was not clean and tidy, the sheets under Avery had long since been washed white, and many signs of stitching could be seen, and beside the low table were a mess of bags, barrels, and chests, and some rusted metal parts smelled of expired engine oil.

Compared to the student dormitories that are cleaned every day at Buffrey College, it's honestly a big garbage dump.

"It seems that the rebels are not having an easy time. Avery sighed to himself, then went back to the bed and grabbed a piece of dry, hard black bread. He needed to remain weak for a while longer so that he could seize the slightest chance to escape from here.

The consequences of mental exhaustion are a short period of coma and vertigo weakness that usually lasts for a week. Based on this experience, Merlin Avery spent three days in his room before claiming to have largely recovered. Soon, he was allowed to leave the resting room, but was disappointed by what he discovered.

The rebels are not a bunch of rats hiding in their burrows, as the official claims, but at least in Scrap Irontown, where they can walk freely in broad daylight.

Gangsters.

It may be an exaggeration to portray the gang as legitimate, but in Avery's opinion, there is clearly no sheriff or other official enforcers in Scrap Iron Town, and all the people who manage affairs and maintain order are members of the rebels who act as gangsters.

Old Aura wasn't the management here, but he was noticeably more detached, at least when Avery was trying to get out of Scrap Iron and was surrounded by a few guards, Old Aura suddenly appeared, waved his hand lightly, and sent the guards away.

"Looks like you're recovering well, man. Old Ola's smile was still honest and simple, but there was something dangerous in it, "Seriously, I thought you'd be in bed for a few more days." ”

"Where, Mr. Ola, I'm an idle man. Avery looked up, trying to make his tone as sincere as possible, "Is there a place where I can do alchemy experiments? I feel like my fingers are starting to itch after a few days of not doing it. ”

Old Ola gave Avery a deep look, "If this is a temptation...... Well, follow me. As soon as he finished speaking, he walked towards one of the more imposing buildings in Scrap Irontown, and raised his hand for Avery to follow.

Avery knew he had no choice. Especially when he saw that there was a laboratory in that building, although the equipment was in disrepair, but it was quite professional, his heart couldn't help but become even heavier.

After a cursory examination of the laboratory's equipment and supplies, Avery made a careful request, "I would like to review the experiment of concocting a pure iron solution, Mr. Ola, can you provide me with half a kilogram of pure iron powder, a little mergmalga oil and green sobs, and some carbon rods and alcohol?"

Old Ola thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement, "It's easy to deal with smart people, isn't it?" he commented approvingly, "man, you know what we need right now. ”