Chris certainly had a bad day.

No one would feel good if they were locked in an iron cage with only a little water and a piece of black bread to survive every day.

He had been locked up for more than ten days, and every day he was jolting cold and hungry on the trails of the Rocky Daran Mountains.

Fortunately, he was still young and not frozen by the early cold in the mountains.

There are several people who are not very strong in the iron cage, and they have frozen to death. Their corpses were discarded on the side of the road like garbage, and they must have become the feces of wild beasts by now.

He finally knew where he was headed.

The people who distribute water and food to them every day have physical characteristics that are highly recognizable in the Endless Continent.

They were humanoid, with only hair growing in the middle on the top of their heads, braided into long braids, black and greasy. Except for this braid, they have no eyebrows, no beard, no hair on their bodies, and no hair under their armpits and crotch.

This has been confirmed by scholars who study bloodline lineage.

They are about two and a half meters tall, their upper body is longer than their lower body, and they are only wrapped in a piece of cloth in important parts of their bodies, exposing their muscles that are high and strong. The huge soles of the feet have only three toes and long claws like wild beasts, and at first glance they are thought to be mandrills.

They are the Viks, also known as the Barbarians.

The Vickans have only one direction to go: their habitat, the Savage Valley.

The Valley of the Savages, beyond the Loki Daran Mountains to the east is the Forest of Whispers, to the west across the mountains is the Ze of Terror, and to the north is the Dwarven Realm. As for continuing south, no one knows where.

The Viks who thrive in the Valley of the Savages are synonymous with savagery and blood.

Killing is everything they live with.

Every adult Vic carries several lives.

For them, if there are not a few skulls on their doorstep, then survival is meaningless.

These skulls were hunted by them themselves, and there were powerful beasts, as well as those of the same race and other races. The more skulls are placed and the higher their status in the tribe, the more young, beautiful or handsome people of the opposite sex will like to visit.

There is no such thing as a husband and wife in this race.

They can have as much of a wild beast as they want, and then they have nothing to do with each other.

If there are offspring, there will be a unified tribal support for birth.

No one knows who their father is, and maybe it's not necessarily in the pile of skeletons under their own roof.

In this regard, scholars of the Middle-earth plains generally speculated maliciously that this beastly behavior was the reason why they wore only a few pieces of cloth all year round.

Their hunting of their own people is legal.

Regardless of gender, strong people are born with the power to dominate the weak.

If the weak resists, then the feast of hunting can begin: the strong will give the weak a day to run away, and then go after him, and never die.

There is no reason for them to hunt foreign races.

As long as they think you're a bully, then you could become one of their badges of bravery – leave your head on the doorstep and slowly decay and eventually turn into a skull.

Before the Holy Empire was founded, their tradition of hunting foreign races was met with strong resistance from all the surrounding races.

The Dwarves, Snake People, Terrans, and Elves have rarely acted in unison to display heavy troops on the borders of the Valley of the Savages, blocking them in their homes. The siege lasted for three years, and almost half of the Vics starved to death.

But other races have also suffered heavy casualties.

Although the population of this race is small, never more than 10,000 people, their strength is too strong! Throughout the history of the Vic race, there has never been a time when they had less than ten strong men!

With both sides defeated, the war ended in an agreement.

The Vikans promised not to hunt foreigners indiscriminately, but spent a full thirty years digging a mountain in half and establishing a city on their doorstep. The city is built of solid stone and iron juice except for the mountain, which is impregnable. The city is full of gladiatorial arenas, large and small, that is, their hunting grounds for foreign races.

Yes, they turned the hunt into a gladiatorial fight.

At that time, the name of the city was the City of Hunting.

Named by the Vic themselves.

In the beginning, the wars of the major races were frequent, and they used their wealth to buy prisoners or captives for them to hunt.

Later, all kinds of human mercenaries who were too poor to open the pot sold their lives to participate; In order to chase the path of the strong, other races have participated in this place as a testing ground for life and death. Because they won the victories in the gladiatorial battle, they could also get a lot of wealth.

From this time onwards, the name of the city was called the City of Blood.

The name given to the city by other races.

Later, after the establishment of the Holy Empire, there were fewer wars between the various races, and there were fewer prisoners of war, but many human nobles participated: they bought a human life with gold coins, in order to enjoy the thrill of killing.

More people participated, and various industries sprung up, and brothels, casinos, pubs, blacksmith shops and bakeries were scattered all over the city, making the city extraordinarily prosperous.

The Vic people earned a lot of money just by collecting taxes and gates.

The power of money is powerful.

You can buy the favor of many women, sharp weapons, powerful sacrifices, and unstoppable wine......

And, of course, human lives.

Tempted by the rich pockets of the Vicks, a wicked slave catcher emerged.

Mercenaries who can sell their faith for money will use various methods to put living warriors in cages and send them to the Valley of the Savages.

A vicious circle begins.

The slave catchers kept the city bloody and prosperous by sending men and beasts, and the prosperity of the city brought great wealth to the Vicks, which in turn turned into commissions paid to the slave catchers.

From this time onwards, the name of the city was Sin City.

Locked in an iron cage, Chris knew his fate when he saw the Vic people.

He didn't hate Kurt, the man who sold him like a beast.

Although if he was given the chance, he would definitely cut Kurt off at the waist and let his liver and intestines drain all over the place.

He hated himself.

When he first arrived in the South, James gave him a greeting gift, put a dagger to his throat, and warned him never to trust anyone and never let his guard down.

However, he still felt that the world was kind, so he stayed in the iron cage for twenty days.

He had lost a lot of weight, and his whole body smelled, not only because he didn't take a bath, but also because he was in a cage for eating, drinking, and lazing.

But today, he finally doesn't have to be with his own feces.

The team of Rocky Bulls pulling the iron cage finally arrived in Sin City.

The moment he was driven out of the iron cage, he didn't have the slightest urge to resist.

For three of the Viks who took slaves had two pairs of arms.

That was the characteristic of their race after stepping into the realm of the strong: a pair of arms grew from under the ribs.

Vidocq, is their race's name for the strong.

Moreover, everyone knows that as long as they are put in an iron cage and go to Sin City, there is no room for resistance forever, and no one will wait for rescue.

Not even a human demigod can save him!

The savage bloodline and hunting tradition make the hearts of the Vic people extremely strong, and it is easier to break through the shackles.

Today's Vic talents are worth more than 5,000 people, but there are seventeen "Vidocq" in the clan! So even if the human demigods came in person, under the siege of so many Vidocq, they would not escape the end of the fall.

After all, demigods are just powerful people who are extremely powerful, just honorific titles given by people, but not real gods.

Chris was put in a small cell.

This place is supposed to be for human impositions, just the right size for a person to lie down.

There was only a small vent in the cell, and many of them were not cleared out and there were all kinds of small insects and pigs, which was disgusting, and Chris almost vomited when he first came in.

The door to the cell was an iron bar, and a chain and a shackle held it to Chris unbreakable.

This is also a dwarven production.

There are traces of dwarves in many parts of the city, and they used their great blacksmithing skills to pull many gold coins out of the pockets of the Vikans.

The cell was supposed to be underground, as it was afternoon when Chris was brought in, but it was pitch black inside.

There were several torches in the aisles, and tongues of fire flickered and flickered, doubling the eerie horror of the cells and the dim foreground of the people inside; The light and shadow fell on the people who were caught, playing with the expressions on their faces.

Despair, anger, numbness, sadness, sorrow, chagrin, etc., are all kinds of things.

In the dark space, it is difficult to make out the passage of time.

So when someone brought food, Chris knew it was night.

Dinner was a large bowl of water and three loaves of black bread, and a lumpy rhizome, presumably a product of the Valley of the Wasteland, which was much more abundant than the road. Ignoring the nausea in their cells, people who had been starving for many days picked up bread and stuffed it into their mouths, filling the entire cell with choking coughs.

Chris left a brown loaf of bread.

It's not that there is no appetite.

It's not that he's not hungry, he can now eat ten in one sitting.

This brown bread is kept as bait.

In his early years, when he was wandering on the ice fields of the Alps, he developed the habit of constantly observing his surroundings.

So he also heard the squeaks of rats, and there were many of them.

In this place where excrement is a captive, a place where you are so hungry that you want to gnaw on your own arm, the presence of rats makes people reluctant to think about what their food is.

But Chris doesn't dislike it, and he doesn't have the qualifications to dislike it.

In the cells of Sin City, there are only two ways to commit suicide or walk in the gladiatorial arena.

He didn't want to die like this, so he needed food to replenish his stamina and give him more hope of surviving in the gladiatorial arena.

Rats are also meat, the only extra food.

He tore up the black bread and spread it under the fence, pinched the edge of the pottery bowl and carefully broke off a few pottery shards, then squatted in the inner corner of the cell with bated breath, quietly waiting for the rats to come.

A person who has been hungry for more than 20 days cannot catch a mouse with his bare hands.

In addition to the accumulation of feces in the entire cell, the only thing left was a clay bowl.

There were many people in the other cells who were doing the same thing as Chris.

The Terrans are a race with bright brains, and in order to survive, they will do everything they can to seize any possibility.

Chirping... Creak...

As time passed, the mournful cries of rats rose and fell in the darkness, perpetuating the hope of people to live.