Othua's War Banner

Chapter 50: 0050
"This is, let me save someone?"

Behind a group of discussing craftsmen, Ken also frowned silently.

"What's wrong with Vochel's apprentice?"

Ken's question attracted the crowd.

The blacksmiths looked at each other, and no one knew the specific situation.

Worchell is introverted and paranoid, and he is an extremely difficult old man on weekdays. Don't expect him to take the initiative to chat with you about family matters.

"I heard it from the apprentice."

"He seems to be trying to hide it."

Marengu looked down at Ken, and asked loudly, "Do you have contacts or resources in this area? The remuneration will be borne by the workshop, and you can ask for a price."

The craftsmen still cherish each other, but Wauchier doesn't know how to express it, and doesn't know how to ask for help.

Ken shook his head regretfully and said, "Do your best."

He couldn't ask for any information, bid farewell to everyone, picked up the trembling singer and left.

Once again through the narrow mountains.

On the cliffs on both sides, there are holes shining with yellow light.

Now he already knew that these were all independent workshops, and the craftsmen inside were much better than the apprentices, but they were inferior to the four blacksmiths under Marengu.

Ken walked by silently, and kept thinking:
The industry in Duwa Village is sound.

As a tribe with thousands of permanent residents, all kinds of facilities are fairly complete, including places where injuries can be treated.

All kinds of people gather here, there are witches who can lift curses, mystics who can contribute potions, elves who are friendly to nature, travelers who master healing magic...

The more Ken thought about it, the weirder it became.

He can use experience points, but the efficiency is a little higher. If the above-mentioned group of people are helpless, he will not have a better way.

Could it be that the task is to seize the opportunity and make a move earlier than others?
Ken walked through the doorway, walked past the crowded but orderly workbench, greeted the administrator, and finally stepped out of the side door of the workshop.

The rider stood by the shop across the street.

He spread his hands apart and shook his head. Next to him were the brother and sister, who were still eating diligently. It seemed that food was only safe if it entered the stomach.

"what happened?"

Ken approached for questioning.

The boy stood up, gasping for breath. He ate in a mess, opened his palm with two gold coins, and said in a hoarse voice: "Good sir, there is no need, we can't keep it."

Ken half squatted down and cast approving glances.

"Did you get harassed just now?"

"No," the boy shook his head, protecting his sister behind him. "But sooner or later it will happen."

Ken looked around. Although he didn't see any slave traders, there were also many mercenaries, robbers, and scammers.

This open village will not break out of war, but there is a serious lack of control. It is not suitable for orphans to grow up, or in other words, it is difficult for them to live to grow up.

"Would you like to follow me?"

"Go to southern Xinjiang, like my friend?"

Ken shook his head, inexplicably feeling that he was being accused of being a human trafficker, and explained: "Not outside the high wall, my village is at the end of Gulang Mountain Road, called Santon Kaya..."

Some tribes and ports will come to Dewar Village to recruit people.

But their main targets are labor or soldiers, and children are unnecessary burdens. Under the pressure of survival, the moral requirements of the northern border are not high.

He felt that the brother and sister were shaken, so he went on to add:

"A safe and warm house, full meals, and things that can be eaten slowly."

The elder brother was stunned suddenly, the child was innocent after all, he asked suspiciously: "But those adults in southern Xinjiang also said the same thing!"

The rider turned his back, and the chanter feigned a cough.

Ken closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering why he was talking too much. This line is indeed no different from that of a human trafficker.

"Don't worry, you take your time to think about it."

He sorted out his emotions and said, "You can keep the money. My station is in the camp at the back gate of the village. If you have no place to live, go there. If you are bullied, you can come and report Ken Bouvier's name."

The boy hesitated.

At a young age, he already knew the danger of money, but when he thought of his sister's clothes and shoes, he shook his dirty hands unconsciously.

"By the way, do you know Mr. Watchel? He should have just left."

"I know, he also has an apprentice named Arthur, and Mr. Worchell goes to the store every day to find someone."

The boy took his sister and ran to the front to lead the way. The little guy was very serious about his work.

Quema returned to the team. No one except Ken found out where he came from. He only heard him whisper the news from the mouth of the slave trader:

Baiwujia is an underground black market in Duwa Village, where informal transactions can be found.

A few people walked directly to the altar square in Duwa Village. The sound of forging basically disappeared here. The craftsmen who finished their work and the travelers in transit would come here for entertainment.

Surrounded by fish and dragons.

Ken kept the two children close to him.

Since just now, there have been ripples of magic power, and there are already three thieves passing by, but he just avoided it, and no conflict broke out.

Under the leadership of the child, everyone turned around and walked through the bustling market to an alley.

There were a lot of people standing by the walls on both sides, most of them were talking in low voices, and someone would look at them from time to time.

Ken was wearing a dark [velvet fleece cloak], a dark and simple battle armor, and his boots buckled on the stone brick floor, making a calm and crisp sound.

A slight light flashed in his eyes, the steel sword pushed out half a finger, and glanced into the corner.

The guy who was performing the spying secret technique suddenly lowered his head, and he explained to his companion softly: "The child is leading the way, four people, six weapons, you can let them go, but don't provoke them casually."

Ken walked forward, turned the corner of the alley, and the noise came oncoming.

[Someone used secret techniques to isolate the movement here. The black market is quite chaotic. Most of the capable guys are actually liars. 】

The venue is very open, and batches of display racks are placed against the walls.

At the end of the long street, the left and right are separated, and there is actually a larger space. There are charming and moving singing voices from the building, and the cheers are louder and louder.

The vendor leaned over to Ken.

He is wearing a [sticky feather mask], and there are bottles of mysterious liquid in the wooden box on his chest. The labels are written in Uma language with words such as "happy", "gentle", "fearless" and "powerful".

The price and presentation are unsightly.

The bustling streets were filled with laughter and roars. People concealed their identities and twisted and twisted like wandering ghosts. Everyone had a debauched and weird aura.

"How do I find this, can I ask?"

When Kuima turned around, the rider and the chanter were also at a loss.

Ken thought for a moment: Since the remark can give the task, there must be guidance. If there is no prompt yet, we can only try the old method.

The gray field of vision unfolded, and the hustle and bustle disappeared, and the pedestrians who lost their colors looked more like ghosts in the abyss.

(End of this chapter)