Ark of the Immortal

Fran was saying something when he was interrupted by Kos.

He looked up, and Kos turned his head, his face dull.

"Did we win?"

"ha?!"

Fran was also stunned for a moment.

"What?"

Kos looked down at the lottery ticket in his hand and confirmed it again.

The numbers on the paper are exactly the same as the numbers published on the lottery board!

Just in the Cavaliers Lotto section, the numbers are exactly the same!

"We hit the jackpot."

Kos, take a deep breath.

"Special class!"

Some are happy and some are sad.

In addition to Cos and Fran, there were a bunch of people staring at the financial reports in their hands with unhappy expressions.

The directors of Chengjin Company, watching the stock price drop by dozens of percentages overnight, all wondered if they had been tricked by the business alliance. Until I learned at today's regular meeting that the cash cow knight had left the company.

Everyone's face turned green in an instant.

They haven't had time to squeeze the last bit of value out of that stupid knight! Why were you let go? !

At the Martin Bar in the center of the city, everyone gathered together and watched the news broadcast on TV, with very exciting expressions.

"Should I say it is indeed that knight? Just like his competitive style, it is crisp and unexpected."

The old knight sighed. He didn't know whether he should be happy or sad for the undead.

"When those two fat and thin knights came to the teacher's house yesterday, I thought the teacher had another competition."

Maria also looked confused, and one of the golden hairs on her head was almost standing on edge.

Why did the teacher quit the company overnight?

The bald knight sitting next to him wiped the wine glass in his hand, and his reaction was the most indifferent.

"Zofia has expected it, right? She said she wanted to go over and take a look this morning."

"She should have received the news yesterday, otherwise it wouldn't have been so fast."

The big white bear sat next to the bar, tinkering with the appliances in his hands, and looked at the TV from time to time.

"By the way, where is Zofia? Where is she?"

Just as he was talking, there was a sound of opening the door of the bar.

Zofia walked in and threw the car keys on the table.

"How about it?"

the old knight asked nervously.

"No one was there anymore. I took a look outside and the fire inside was out."

Zofia shook her head.

"The question now is, where has he gone? Yesterday, we told him to come here to see us if he had something to do. He is not familiar with the place and is not a local, so where can he go?"

"It's not in the hands of the company anyway, and based on his strength, can someone still stop him?"

When the old knight heard that the undead man was gone, he couldn't help laughing.

"It's amazing! Everyone has left, and these companies are not given any chance to operate. People just disappear! I feel so comfortable, hahaha!"

Since they couldn't find the immortal, everyone was still a little anxious, but there was nothing they could do.

For now, they can only wait here, waiting for the undead to come to them.

"boss."

A man in shabby armor knocked on the door of the blacksmith shop, holding a sword and shield in his hand.

The blacksmith thought he heard wrongly, but when he saw the person coming, he laughed and asked him to come in and sit down.

"Why are you here now? I thought you would be back in a few days. Huh?! How did you create this body?"

The blacksmith looked in amazement at the large hole in his shoulder armor and the huge crack in his shield.

What on earth did he do to make this armor look like this?

"Can it be repaired?"

"Hey, you've underestimated me! In this village, my craftsmanship is second, and no one dares to be first! It's just cricket armor, of course it can be repaired! Take it off first and give it to me."

Yes, the entire Casimir has been blown up, but our client, Mr. Undead, has returned to the village where he lived before.

After all, he had come out of this road before, and now he would definitely come back here if he wanted to find a place to come back.

The undead put down the firewood on their backs that he had carefully selected and were qualified to leave the city with him, took off their armor, and gave it to the blacksmith for repair.

"You went to participate in the knight competition, right?"

The blacksmith asked the immortal while taking the armor in his hand to the workshop at the back.

"This kind of wound looks like it was stabbed by a gun. It's so injured. Do you still plan to continue participating?"

The immortal man said nothing, and the wrinkles on his briefly exposed face deepened.

"Hey, you're already your age. It's a good thing to have this idea and make you look younger. But don't let yourself get hurt too seriously."

The blacksmith put the things in the sink. He had to clean them first, then turned around and came out with another box.

"This is the armor you left behind before. Wear this for the next few days. I'll pick it up in two days."

"How much?"

The undead man opened his withered lips and asked the blacksmith about the repair fee.

"No money! Isn't it a one-year warranty? Anyway, I'm very happy to know that you are going to participate in the knight competition."

The blacksmith scratched his head and said with a smile.

"How is it? My armor is still strong, isn't it? Is the craftsmanship good?"

"good."

The immortal nodded, not stingy with his appreciation.

Indeed, for traditional blacksmithing skills, this shield and armor have fulfilled its due responsibilities.

The undead man took out the armor left by the square-headed knight from the box and put it on.

The blacksmith opened his cabinet and took out a key from it.

"This is the key you forgot to take away before. I kept it for you. I thought you would come to pick it up soon."

The immortal man carried the firewood behind his back and took the key from the blacksmith.

He obviously didn't ask the blacksmith to help preserve it.

The undead man paused and then spoke.

"Thanks."

"It's okay, we are all neighbors anyway."

The blacksmith waved his hand. He put his hands on his hips and looked at the undead man.

"How long do you plan to stay here?"

"Stay for a few days."

said the immortal.

"Wait, the armor. Repair it and I'll leave."

"Hey, are you in a hurry?"

The blacksmith touched his chin.

"Okay, you can pick it up in five days. Wait for me at the door at the same time."

"Repair, five days?"

The immortal asked doubtfully.

Why would just a repair take five days?

The blacksmith chuckled.

"Since you are going to take it to participate in the competition, why don't I give you more support? I thought you were taking it back for collection and occasionally wearing it for fun. Your equipment was not treated according to the strictest standards at the time, but now it is just right Make it up.”

The blacksmith clenched his fists.

"You must work hard! Old man! Let's not talk about the top 16, let's go to the top 32, right? What do you want me to do... uh, what is it called?"

"Fighted, knight..."

"Oh yes! Let more people see my set of battle-hardened knight armor!"

While joking with the undead, the blacksmith went to the back and looked at the broken armor soaked in the sink.

Seeing your creation again is like seeing your own child.

Isn’t it human nature to give the best treatment to children who are about to travel far away?

What's more, it is going to participate in a grand war.

41. Gray and white armor

What would happen if people forgot the past?

I'm afraid no one can answer this question, because it is already a distant past, and no matter how much we recall, we cannot recreate the glory of the past.

Nothing can reappear along with the memories. They have long become phantoms crushed in the long river of time, lingering in the carrier called history.

Some people try hard to recall something, but after they think about it thoroughly, they feel that they might as well not be able to remember it.

Just like the memory of the undead gradually recovering.

In his mind, those past events and friends reappeared in his mind over time.

But he didn't know how to face these memories of his own.

He didn't know why he would forget these things that should not be forgotten.

Since quitting the company, the undead man stayed in the village, in the room he bought a long time ago, staring at the bonfire.

He would always think of those people and things, and the past was as vivid in his mind as if it had just passed.

These days, he would always look at the sun and the dazzling presence in the sky.

What would you do if it were you?

The undead man stood by the window, looking at the rising sun, and slowly closed his eyes hidden under his square helmet.

He returned to the bonfire, picked up the bucket, and poured water on it.

Put out the campfire and carry the firewood.

It's time to get your gear.

"You came quite early, old man."

As soon as the blacksmith opened the door, he saw the undead man making a strange movement toward the horizon where the sun was rising.

It's like flying into the sky and stretching out your arms to embrace the hot sun.

"What are you doing?"

"Praise, Sun."

The undead man slowly lowered his hand and looked back at the blacksmith.

"Want to come with me?"