When he opened his eyes, it was still dark in front of Wren's eyes.

It seemed to be the interior of some kind of pipe, cramped, and Wren in armor was only enough to lie prostrate in it.

After complaining about this unreliable teleportation function every day, Wren saw a faint light not far ahead, and at the same time heard the voice of a man, so he climbed over with the help of his arms.

Light penetrated through a square iron fence, and looking down was a strange group of people, scattered in the room, with a short table in front of each of them.

They are strange because the group has no feet and is stuck on a chair like a bucket.

They were discussing a recent incident in the kingdom that caused quite a stir.

It was also the news that Wren had seen before he arrived, and that there was a world-famous painting master in this little-known kingdom, but the master committed suicide by taking drugs in his studio a few days after his famous work was auctioned off for 300 million.

"Master Vallo's apprentice, Baltha, is reluctant to reveal the reason for the Master's suicide." A barrelman said.

"Maybe the master was poisoned by him, this guy has no talent, I have heard the master reprimand Balsa in public more than once, saying that he has skills but no heart."

"Poisoned? You'd better think of a more interesting story, Master Vallow is a man who even His Majesty has to be courteous, and you dare to make up such a low-level conspiracy story this time, I pray that you had better find a way to end it."

"Could it be that the old man's inspiration has dried up and he can't draw anything?"

"People are masters, and even if their inspiration runs out, a large number of people buy a circle on paper. The last time he painted the 'Light,' I made up a story on five sheets of paper. I don't understand it at all, though."

"Only five pieces of paper? As soon as you say it, I remember that more than thirty years ago, when the master was not yet famous, I wrote a whole dozen sheets of paper to praise that "Field", although it was the request from above."

......

The group of people talked endlessly, Wren was thinking about whether to just go out, this place was too crowded, the "gentleman on the beam" made him uncomfortable, the door of the room was suddenly pushed open, and a barrel man with a mustache jumped in, followed by a normal person with legs.

But if you look closely, this person is not normal.

The chest was empty, and a piece was missing.

As soon as the mustache entered, all the barrelmen in the room immediately fell silent, and one by one turned their backs, and lay down on their little tables.

"Listen." The mustache invited the heartless man behind him in, "Mr. Balsa has something to say. Please, Mr. Baltha."

The man named Balsa brushed off his already neat face and half-held his head high: "My teacher, the great Master Vallo, commissioned me before his death, asking me to publish his masterpiece on his behalf, the final chapter of the "Life" series, "Fire".

"Huh!?"

"This..."

As soon as the words were finished, the barrel people looked surprised and turned their heads to each other.

"But isn't the Life series a trilogy? When will there be more "Flames"?"

Some people have raised their own doubts, the "Life" trilogy is a collection of three paintings including Wallow's famous masterpiece "Field", which express three emotions of joy, anger and sorrow, and are also recognized as the three works with the most unique skills of Wallow. ….

Some time ago, "Field" was able to sell for hundreds of millions of sky-high prices, also because the buyer had already collected the remaining two.

After painting the last portrait of his wife, he made it clear that his mind was gradually calming down, and he was afraid that it would be difficult to complete a work of the same level.

So now Balsa is talking about this "Flame"......

Balsa snorted softly, "The trilogy is just a title given to outsiders, and the teacher is only humble when he says that he can't paint a painting of this level, do you have any doubts about the teacher's level?"

"Nope!"

"Nope!"

"And what is the emotion that this 'Flame' represents, is it passionate?" The person who asked the question could not imagine

, an old guy who is about to commit suicide, where does the enthusiasm come from?

But he heard Balsa say coldly, "It's fear."

Seeing that everyone was puzzled, and still studying why the painting representing "fear" was named "Flame", Balsa didn't bother to explain more to these people who "don't move art": "In short, I hope you can announce the teacher's new painting for me, and don't bury the teacher's hard work."

"Can we take a look at the master's paintings?" Someone suggested, "It's easy to introduce."

"No, you don't!" Balsa rejected what seemed reasonable: "You just have to tell everyone that this is the fourth painting in the Life series and the last painting of the teacher. You don't care about the content of the painting, it's up to you to introduce it, anyway, it's not the first time you've made up this kind of thing."

He turned to the mustache and said, "I'll go first."

Left this sentence and left directly, and there was really no intention to introduce the content of the painting.

The mustache sent the man out of the door, and turned back to tell the barrel man, "Write it for me!"

Then he chased him out.

When the footsteps of the two were far away, the barrel people in the house were lively again.

"I can't even see the painting, how can I write this?"

"Could it be fake, like Baltha's own painting?"

"Don't have conspiracy theories, I said it, don't have conspiracy theories about Master Vallo, he is the only master in our kingdom, and His Majesty will punish him."

"Don't mention the mess, just write along the lines of 'fear, and 'fire,' I guess some kind of evil flame or something."

"Bodie, don't guess. The last time there was a fire in the North District, you just heard the news and wrote over there that a large number of houses had been destroyed, killing and wounding dozens of people, and you didn't ask about it, and you ended up burning a horse shed."

"It's like you're going to inquire. This kind of thing has to be done early, otherwise who will see, and if I don't make it up, others will make it up."

Everyone discussed enthusiastically, but when they heard a "clang", an iron fence above their heads loosened for some reason and smashed to the ground.

Before he could react, he smashed down another "iron man".

"Helmet.... Armored monsters!"

"I just happened to be passing by." It was Wren who fell, and as he spoke, he reached out and lifted the chin of the barrel man, who was sitting beside him, with his mouth wide open but unable to make any sound for fear:

"So don't be surprised."

Glancing at the others, he shrugged and turned out to walk out of the room.

The barrelman in the room was in a slightly relaxed mood, and was about to release the belated scream and shout for help, when Wren's figure appeared in the doorway again.

"Uh......"

In the process of holding back, some strange syllables were born.

Wren's eyes glanced over the part of the barrelman's missing leg, then lifted his right leg, dangling it in the air, and making a dust-sweeping motion with his hand on his thigh.

Cooper: ?

Seeing that these people were unmoved, Wren raised his left foot and patted the side of his knee.

Barrelman: ??

Still don't understand?

Wren then gave them a not-so-masterful, in fact, rhythmless tap.

The Barrelmen looked at each other: ???

This monster in armor, sick?.

Silver pile knife