Ultimate Weapon of Magic and Science

"Hey, how did you get them from you?"

The sharp voice penetrated into the ear. Because of the fixed posture of the metal appliance, Roland, who was also difficult to sleep, blinked his eyelids and tried to turn his face sideways. As a result, he could only deflect a few hairs thick. The body surrounded by the hoop can not move at all, and the sigh flows out from the lips gently:

"After being deceived and sold to the robber, it was sold here."

"What, it turned out to be a fool."

"What's the matter with you? Isn't there any way to be locked here?"

Being in the same sinister environment should help each other, but the guys around sneered at the misfortunes of others. Such an attitude certainly cannot satisfy Roland. Even if communication is not smooth, the most basic equivalence is indispensable in a state where we must get along with each other. It is unreasonable for each other to respond to others with mocking tone under their own insecurity.

"Quietly, you want to be beaten to death. Then stop your mouth, cover your eyes, and plug your ears? Try not to use your brain for an abnormal taste within a quarter of an hour?"

There was a fear-like tremor in the mocking that lowered the sound line. I tried the extremely terrifying one hour after I tried to feel nothing and can’t do anything except my own breathing and heartbeat. What is going on is almost crazy and messy. The experience is almost The threatening voice was still very soft, and Roland blinked in disbelief.

"It's a child's talent to make a grimace in the blink of an eye."

The tone of the pretended adult announces Roland’s defeat, the result of his victory

[Boxmate] lying next to him should also be unable to see his facial movements. Can understand the reason for the small movement, Roland quickly thought.

"Convenient ears, are the orcs' ears so easy to use?"

"Laozi is not an orc, don't call Laozi with that kind of name!"

The vicious voice sounded like he was about to bite off Roland's neck and shut him up. The rogue and scumbag tone ignited Roland's anger, and wanted to give the other party a sudden impulse to wander through the body.

Both sides can only think about it.

The thoughts and passions of the fever in the head can't even express the emotions in front of the shackles and the iron wall, and the idea of ​​fighting each other is not possible to implement. Don't dare to speak loudly with words.

Put on a weird prison uniform with a variety of thick and thin belts for dealing with recidivism. The joints of the whole body are tightened. After lying down, it is fixed by the iron ring inside the [correction box]. After the cover is closed, there is only one small window opened to prevent suffocation to communicate with the outside world. The six sides of the box press the boy's body to the maximum by tightening the adjusting screw, and the iron block with heat dissipation clings to the skin through the prison coat-after completing all the debugging, the forced prison room reminds Roland of eating canned food, I am the "mysterious meat" in the iron box.

The meticulous imprisonment and restraint can only stay in the brain and rot away. The meaningless waste of physical strength will only suffocate yourself. After awakening to this point, the boys are quiet after spitting out useless exhaust gas and fire.

"It's really stupid to be angry with humans..."

"Stupid, arguing with someone who doesn't know what he is..."

The self-deprecating self-deprecation that hides their sarcasm instantly reheats the atmosphere, and they can't see each other's faces, but they can use imagination to draw what a bad face covered with green bars looks like.

The air that was silent and about to explode could only hear the scorching and suffocating breath, barely controlling the emotions, so as not to provoke a beating silence due to the outbreak of intense verbal conflict. Roland and Half-Blood understand one thing:

There are some guys in the world who can't get along. There is such a guy regardless of country or race. It's just lying next to you.

In the time and space where even speaking and breathing are restricted, the boys cannot sleep because their eyes are wide open.

Albert Sullivan (van) has been involved in the trade of population trading for 14 years. This is enough to turn a child who has not spoken into a young man who thinks little. Slave traders have received customers who have been in shape and shape, and those who have both image and temperament are always rare.

Big businessmen, priests, nobles, royal families... These big shots clearly have a fierce desire for money, labor, and meat. When buying the required goods, they often inexplicably scrutinize the law and the eyes of others. For their "decent", they will never condescend to a place like the slave trade market where inferior people gather. It is common to send some or flexible business acquaintances or domineering idiots to negotiate business, and it is always the bargain and the bargain that runs through the negotiation process.

This time, the buyer is still not the buyer. However, from this personable, unpronounced and elegant conversational agent, Sullivan feels that this time may be very different from previous sales.

"[Mr. Sullivan is the chief of this line], we often hear this kind of praise when we first enter the Viipuri deal."

Praise is very natural for businessmen, and there is no trace of falsehood. Sullivan scored a maximum of 10 points for a business smile that was enough to be used as a businessman to learn reference standards. The slave merchant who knew how hypocritical and fierce the man bent his neck undetectably.

"If you want to buy a first-rate boy, go to Mr. Sullivan-every merchant says so, and we will find the house in admiration."

"That is the love and exaggeration of my peers. UU reads www.uukanshu.com. Unfortunately, if I want to buy a boy now, I am afraid I can't help. There is no excess inventory on hand. I am very sorry to disappoint you."

After holding up the compliment, gently put it down, familiar with commercial transactions [the opponent and the counterparty can only listen to half] This iron-clad middle-aged man twists the thick curly beard on his chin, and the sharp mask hides the sharp Sight, sliding for the mysterious man who is trying to see through his eyes and claiming to be a big man.

The silky, fluffy, blond hair was meticulously combed into a back hair pattern that was close to the scalp. The angular square face and facial features were too common, and it would be forgotten if thrown into the crowd two or three times. The slender palms slightly resemble the females, with calluses that appear only on the front and back of the palms when holding swords and punches, and the perseverance and danger of the boarders in the clear blue eyes.

"Guest, you have to say. The time you chose is very bad, it's not a coincidence."

The man who self-reported his name [Max. Will] is not a plaything waiting for the bed, or a waste of firewood. The man had a **** smell that was hard to conceal.

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