Jacques carried a heavy bag on his back and grabbed a rope to climb down the crater of Rufus.

With sleek gravel underfoot, Jacques tried to keep every step steady to avoid unnecessary misses. Thirty minutes later, the gravel turned into a rough stone, angular and rapidly increasing in slope, and looking up, the crater looked like a devouring demon, opening its mouth wide and waiting for its prey to come to the door, and he was stuck in the demon's throat.

Jacques took a deep breath and began to bounce and slide, growing larger and larger, and the small figure was like a hovering swallow, passing through the air in a wonderful arc and disappearing into the bottomless volcano.

It was Jacques' familiar home.

It was pitch black, he couldn't see his fingers, he didn't need lighting, he was like an echolocation bat, crawling nimbly on the rocks, skillfully avoiding obstacles, choosing the most suitable part to fix the rope, and descending quickly in a zigzag. Even the best professional mountaineer would be amazed to see Jacques in action, it was an impossible miracle that completely exceeded the limits of human physical fitness!

Tirelessly jumping and sliding, a few hours later, Jacques went deeper than 3,000 meters underground, the temperature in the cave was very low, and the air was a little thin, but he did not feel uncomfortable, but felt relaxed, as if he had returned to his hometown after a long absence.

He took out a compressed biscuit from his backpack, chewed it and swallowed it straight to his neck, eating five or six pieces in a row. Biscuits have a terrible taste, but they provide plenty of calories and are a must-have dry food for wilderness adventures. After filling his stomach, Jacques felt thirsty, he drank a few sips of mineral water to moisten his throat, rested for a while, and felt his strength return.

The air was filled with damp moisture, and there should be a dark river not far away, which was once a place for subhumans to hunt in groups, but since the end of the war, there has been no sign of their activity.

Jacques pursed his lips and stirred the muscles of his cheeks, his chest heaving and resonating, squeezing out a series of strange cries, "cluck-coo-quack-" echoed through the empty cavern and into the distance.

After a moment's patient wait, his call was answered, and a muffled "gurgling-coo-wooing" sounded not far away, followed by a pale figure limping to his side.

"Combe, are you alright?" Jacques greeted in the language of the subhumans.

If a third person is present, he will not believe his ears, and humans can speak the language of subhumans and be able to communicate with them - all the experts in Europe who study subhumans believe that humans cannot communicate with subhumans, and perhaps only God Almighty can do it!

God created human beings, so why did he create subhumans?

"Oops...... It sucks...... Moni ...... It's all over......" Com stammered. It was a subhuman with deformed limbs, muscles twisted together, unable to crawl properly, and could only jump like a chick on rocks.

Jacques's heart jerked, "What's going on?" ”

"Give...... Give me...... Fast...... Hurry up ......"

Jacques pulled out the muffle and poured the white powder into the palm of his hand, and Combe leaned in at once, snorting greedily through his nose, a whimper of satisfaction deep in his throat.

The poison began to work, and Combe's tense body relaxed, and it lay on all fours beside Jacques, moaning weakly, "...... Ask for wine ......"

Jacques shoved a bottle of vodka into his hand, and Com clumsily uncorked it, and let out a long sigh of relief.

The smell of alcohol hit his face, and Jacques held his breath in disgust. His mind drifted to a long time ago, at a Christmas party, at Aisha Castle, where his father kissed his forehead with a mouthful of wine and stuffed a beautifully wrapped gift into his hand...... It was a handheld PSP console, and he played all night, and the game seemed to be about caving, hunting aliens underground, and saving humanity and the world...... What an irony!

Jacques was so sad that he wanted to cry.

In the darkness, Com's breathing became long, steady, drowsy, and muttered something indistinctly. Jacques frowned, shook it vigorously awake, and asked, "Combe, don't fall asleep, tell me, why did the subhumans attack humans?" ”

"Attack...... Humans ......" Kom didn't react.

"Yes, Monimon destroyed a playground and killed a lot of people, all women and children, is this the beginning of the Second War?"

Combe was stunned for a moment, and then said stupidly, "Oops...... It sucks...... Moni ...... It's all over......" It seemed to take a heavy blow, a nervous breakdown, back and forth on these two sentences.

In order to extract critical information, Jacques had to increase the dose and give it a dose of Mavruna. The poison entered the bloodstream, stimulating the central nervous system strongly, and Com regained consciousness slightly, although it still didn't match the preface, Jacques could at least tell what it was saying.