Chapter 1020 Forged Hell

"These two delivered something."

Meng Chao noticed a less obvious twitch in the shoulders and arms of the three hands.

It's like sliding an object from the position tied to the elbow to the wrist, and then flicking it into the "punch of hair" on the opposite side.

Perhaps the arms of the three hands have not fully recovered from the shrinkage of more than ten years.

When he was doing the sliding and ejecting movements, he had a little difficulty, and the range of movements was slightly larger.

In the eyes of clan warriors without any anti-espionage experience, this is naturally not a flaw, not even a negligence.

But Meng Chao caught him straight with his piercing eyes.

"So, this butcher shop is a transfer station for news about the Rat People's Rebel Army?"

Meng Chao looked around with interest.

After the three hands delivered the news, they quickly left the market with their two companions.

Meng Chao did not continue to follow his interest.

The reason is very simple, the three hands are natives of Black Point City, and they have been here for more than ten or twenty years. It is unlikely that they are a hidden stake that the Rat People's Rebel Army ambushed so long ago. At best, they are small fish that have only recently been developed.

As for the owner of the butcher shop, "A Pinch of Hair", Meng Chao didn't think that he was the person he was looking for in the end.

It is too wasteful for someone like him to be able to stay in a market where there are a lot of different religions and nine streams for a good reason, and he often plays tricks with people.

The things that the three hands pass from the sleeves should not be for a pinch of hair.

This guy is just a setter.

Sure enough, Meng Chao locked on to the target again after staring at it for half an hour.

This is a tall lame rat people.

The entire left face extended to the left shoulder, covered with shocking scars.

It was as if the left half of his body had been devoured by some ferocious beast.

Even his left leg was stiff, dragging behind him like a charred stick, limping forward.

However, the intact right half of his body was stronger than most of the Ratmen.

Moreover, the muscles were covered very evenly. From the perspective of Meng Chao as a ghost assassin, one could tell at a glance that such flesh and bones could not only unleash brute force, but also precisely find the gap in the enemy's skull, and smash his brains with one blow.

This ratman was once a warrior.

Even though he was wearing a wide cloak that covered most of his posture and movements, it still couldn't conceal the murderous aura leaking from the gap.

But in addition to the murderous aura, he also smelled of heavy labor and exhaustion.

The hair was all curled up, and the face and the exposed hands had a lot of burn marks. Even the originally very thick hair of the high orc was scorched off.

It's like a big tree that has been burned, its sap has been dried up, and it may collapse at any time.

"A former soldier, but because of injuries and disabilities, he became a slave laborer engaged in some kind of heavy and high-temperature work?"

Meng Chao secretly guessed.

Of course, those who are eligible to leave the workplace and come to this market must not be ordinary slave labor.

Perhaps a leader of slave labor, as the Three Hands had once been the butler of the Bloodskull Arena.

This identity is probably a "reward" for his scars.

But the resentment on the lame rat people's face was still beyond words.

Especially when he met the eyes of the butcher shop owner "Yi Pinch of Hair" and spouted anger, he almost had the word "rebel" engraved on his forehead.

The lame ratman and Tuft of Mao also put their sleeves together and shook hands.

From the shoulder to the elbow of a tuft of hair, there was also a very subtle sliding and ejecting action, and something was ejected into the lame ratman's sleeve.

Therefore, Meng Chao's next follow-up target became the lame rat people.

As a well-trained warrior, the lame rat people are much more vigilant than the three hands.

When he passed a corner, he deliberately stopped and waited for a moment to see if there was anyone chasing after him in a hurry.

But that's all.

In Meng Chao's eyes, this kind of anti-stalking method in the clan era was like a child's play.

Soon, he followed the lame rat people to the smoky "foundry area".

The entire Blackhorn City is like a large military camp, divided into more than a dozen different areas according to different functions.

The arena, casino, tavern and market are relatively concentrated and easy to manage.

The so-called casting area is the place where iron flowers splash, molten steel flows, and weapon foundry workshops gather.

For the Ratmen, unlike the Colosseum, which still had a chance of survival, the Foundry District was a hell on earth.

There are hundreds of chimneys here, which emit choking smoke day and night.

In order to improve the sharpness and sturdiness of the weapon, the casters used to mix a large amount of totem beast bone powder in the molten iron, and the seven-colored ore with faint fluorescence rolled up from the depths of the ground by the roots of the mandala.

The super-radiant substance contained in it makes the thick smoke spew out a ghostly light, and it will be sucked into the stomach by the rat slave workers who never wear any protective masks. It will take less than a year and a half , the throat and lung lobes will completely rot from the inside out.

And the vast majority of rat slave workers simply can't wait until their throats and lungs are rotten.

They will be scalded to death by splashing molten iron.

Crushed by collapsing weapon materials.

Or in front of the bellows and iron felt, in the endless toil, day after day, to death.

Meng Chao walked through the fog in the casting area, and he didn't even need to pay much attention to covering his figure.

Because it contains spiritual energy, the radioactive mist is so thick that you can't see your fingers.

And every rat minion slave worker who came out of the mist was all skinny, with dull eyes, burns, scalds, and bruises all over his body, and every pore was blocked by black powder, as if he had forgotten his name , a lonely ghost who doesn't even remember that he is a living person.

The lame rat people in front stopped in their tracks.

Meng Chao hurriedly dodged to the side, behind a pile of coal that bulged like a hill.

By the way, he smeared a handful of soot on his face.

He heard the sound of the whip whip coming from the mist.

There were also a few faint screams.

And a gnashing of teeth, extremely sharp voice:

"Get up, you slackers, if you don't have five thousand swords within half a month, I'll tie you all to the front of the army and fill the trenches!"

Meng Chao heard the lame rat man's breathing, and suddenly became heavy.

It seemed that he could also hear the sound of his clenched fists and the "click" of his finger bones.

That incomparably sharp voice seemed to have sensed the arrival of the lame rat people, but he didn't care about his reaction, and still said proudly: "Half face, you came back just in time, quickly drag these sluts to the thousand corpse pit Go bury it!"

It turned out that the lame rat people were called "half face".

It fit the ugly scar on the left side of his face.

Meng Chao could feel the fists on half of his face being clenched into two hammers as hard as iron.

But after all, he didn't smash the owner of the high-pitched voice with a single hammer.

He just mumbled, "They're not dead yet."

"Shoot! Pop!"

This is the sound of a leather whip wrapped in thorny vines, hitting half of the face heavily.

Even the lame rat people, who were as strong as bulls, couldn't help but groan in pain.

"These slackers are not as rough and thick as you. After two random lashes, even the bones are exposed. What's the use of staying!"

A sharp voice shouted, "When you send them to Thousand Corps Pit, they are guaranteed to be dead!"

Facing the whip waving sound of "咻咻".

Half of the face no longer defended.

After a while, Meng Chao vaguely saw a group of silent rat people emerging from the mist.

Headed by Half Face, they pushed small carts used to pull coal.

The car was full of bloody slave laborers who were still struggling and wriggling.

Half of the face led the rat people, hunched over their waists, clenched their canine teeth, and headed for the depths of the casting area.

In the mist on both sides, the furnace easily heated the air to a temperature that could burn the throat, and the molten iron gave off a faint phosphorescence. There were clanging knocks, wheezing gasps, and weak and painful moans everywhere.

They are like stepping into hell with one foot deep and one shallow foot.

In the fog ahead, countless silhouettes of monsters with teeth and claws emerged.

It is a mandala tree with intertwined roots, growing wantonly, and covering the sky and the sun.

Unlike the same kind that grows in the mountains, the Datura tree here seems to be full of smoke rich in super-radiant substances.

From the trunk to the branches to the flowers that opened like a blood basin, they are all dark, like black skeletons.

There are about a hundred Datura trees clustered together.

Surrounding it was a swamp with bubbling bubbling.

There are still a large number of broken and broken bones floating in the swamp.

"one two three!"

Banbianlian and his companions yelled in a low voice, and threw the corpse of a ratman far into the swamp.

Suddenly, there was a sound of "chiliuchiliu, chiliuchiliu" in the swamp, which made the scalp numb.

The root system of the black mandala tree is like a giant snake dormant in the swamp, instantly entangled the ratman's corpse with little flesh and blood, and dragged it into the eternal darkness .

All the rat people who died tragically in the foundry area will be thrown into this swamp known as the "Pit of Thousand Corpses", and let these ferocious mutated mandala trees handle it.

And the mutated mandala tree will not waste a bit after devouring a large number of rat people's corpses - its branches are both rigid and soft, not afraid of being hacked by a sword and burning by flames, and it also contains extremely ferocious corpse poison, which is the most important tool for making people. Excellent material for whip and bola chains.

Just let the brave and fearless samurai masters wield the weapons refined from the corpses of the rat people to seize the supreme glory for the sacred ancestors!

"Half face—"

After throwing three corpses into the Thousand Corpse Pit and letting the mandala roots devour them, a companion hesitated and said, "There are two left, and they are not dead yet."