Wizard: I Brought the Wrong System

At this time, anyone who doesn't say a few words seems to be out of touch.

Now the form is unknown, their strength is not strong, it is when they need to form a group, they naturally dare not be rejected by this small group, so you say, I say, gradually, the denunciation turns into insults, and the refugees begin to vent their depression recklessly. Emotions.

"It's people like you who killed the village!"

"So many people died in the village, why don't you die!"

"It must be the monster you attracted, otherwise so many people died in the village, why didn't you die."

"The son she carried must have died long ago, and she has been using that dead man to lure monsters over!"

"Maybe her so-called son is actually a monster!"

If it wasn't too hungry, someone had to start.

Aunt Sam had never seen such a scene before, her eyes were swollen red, she was frightened by the vicious words, and she backed away again and again, and said helplessly: "No... no... not me!"

"My son is not a monster either. He died in the morning. He hadn't eaten for three days. He only starved to death today. I felt it when he starved to death."

"He's been telling me that he's hungry, that he's hungry, that... woo woo... just... just... woo woo..."

Ask a mother to describe the specific process of the death of her own son and son. The degree of cruelty and pain is not far from the constant suicide.

Unfortunately, the joys and sorrows of people are not the same.

If Aunt Sam revealed her true feelings, the others would only feel that she was noisy, that she was selling miserably, that she was taking advantage of their sympathy.

"Shut up, you wicked witch!"

"You witch must be trying to kill us all!"

Little Harry looked at the people around him in confusion. His previous actions were only his temporary inspiration, but he never thought that a small word would have such a big impact, and even cause such a big trouble to his rare relatives.

At this moment, a gentle voice came: "Excuse me, may I ask... Where is your village?"

The onlookers were divided into two sides, and a handsome young man came in the opposite direction.

He has bright blond hair and a healthy brown skin. He is wearing a simple leather armor that fits well, and he is walking on a pair of metal boots full of strange patterns.

The old man in the village glanced at the big sword on the back of the young man, then hunched over and secretly looked at the footprints left by the young man, a trace of fear flashed on his face, took a few steps forward, and squeezed out a pleasing smile: "Sir, what's wrong? What's your name? Do you have anything to do with our village?"

"Well, my name is Yue, and I'm a witcher. I just heard from you that there are monsters here?" The young man smiled, his attitude as gentle as his name.

Actually this is Yarrow.

Yue was just a pseudonym he took.

"Witcher?!"

The expressions of the people around him changed greatly, a few traces of disgust flashed in their eyes, but their attitudes became inexplicably terrified.

"Yes, it's the witcher." Yarrow stood with his arms crossed, his posture relaxed and relaxed.

"Haha, it's not a joke..." Looking at Yarrow's calm eyes, the old villager's voice became smaller and smaller. After a few dry coughs, he rubbed his hands uneasily, grinned his black teeth, and licked his face. He smiled, "You... are you joking?"

The old villager looked to the left and right, as if looking for courage, but also explaining to the left and right: "I have seen many demon hunters, and those demon hunters have a particularly terrifying appearance. Lord Yue is so strong and handsome, he is definitely not a hunter. Demons, those monsters."

The witcher's peculiar appearance, eccentric temper, coupled with the persistent smears of some people, have made this group's name bad among the people long ago.

"By the way, Lord Yue, you mean... you are the one who came to hunt monsters, right?"

'Monster hunter' belongs to a compound word, and the pronunciation is somewhat similar to the sentence 'one who hunts monsters'.

After the old villager finished speaking, the people around looked carefully at Yarrow's appearance and nodded in unison.

The appearance of the witcher is very recognizable, and the refugees basically understand it.

As the old villagers said. Judging from Yarrow's appearance, he is a handsome 'ordinary man' who has nothing to do with witchers at all.

Yarrow naturally knows this, after all, he has also witnessed the strange appearance of the witcher.

He didn't explain much, snapped his fingers at will, and a faint ball of light appeared out of thin air.

"I'm the witcher, by the way, you seem to be talking about witches? I'm still a wizard, maybe—you can call me a wizard?"

Yarrow chuckled lightly, glanced at the women who were excluded, then turned to look at the stunned crowd, and said with a half-smile, "By the way... Where is the monster you're talking about? Why didn't I see it?"

Women are just monsters they framed.

And Yarrow... In the eyes of everyone, he is really a monster!

The expression of the old villager suddenly changed greatly, and he fell to his knees with a thud, without pausing for a moment, and immediately wailed: "Lord Demon Hunter, you are finally back! We have been waiting so hard for you!"

The stunned refugees finally reacted and immediately agreed.

"Yes, you must save us!"

"Just behind... there are monsters chasing us! And our village, there are monsters in it now!"

"Lord Witcher, we have finally waited for you!"

Thump, thump—!

In just a moment, a large area was already kneeling around.

Little Harry stared blankly at this face-changing drama, a moment of inspiration was not enough for him to understand the situation at this time.

"Your village is full of monsters? Who is willing to take me there?" Yarrow pretended to be stunned and looked around, as if to choose a man.

The refugees who had been shouting constantly just now fell silent, and lowered their heads one by one, fearing that Yarrow would notice them.

The prejudice in people's hearts is a big mountain. They have long believed that witchers are monsters.

Yarrow pretended hesitantly looked at the leading old villager: "You..."

"No no, my lord, I'm... old, and my legs are not good. I'm afraid... I can't help you."

Yarrow looked at the young man next to him again.

The young man shook his head with a pale face, and shook his head again and again, "I... I can't go away, yes... I still have to stay here."

Yarrow looked at each other, and these villagers could always come up with various reasons.

Little Harry looked at the majestic Yarrow, an inexplicable impulse surged in his heart, and blurted out a sentence: "I! Lord Yue! I will take you there!"

"You?" Yarrow glanced at little Harry indifferently, and at the same time noticed his blank eyes, paused for a few seconds, and suddenly sneered, "Where's the little boy, go away."

The old villager came to the spirit and hurriedly spoke to the child: "Lord Yue, little Harry can do it! He has been very smart since he was a child, and he must remember the way in the past!"

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