Seven Hundred and Forty Clothes

On the not spacious road, a jeep was bumping up and down. The Jeep was not an open top and did not have a Golden Eagle on it, suggesting that it probably did not belong to the Airan Hill military.

Sure enough, after seeing the car plate clearly, the Elland Hill soldiers who were standing at the crossroads directing the traffic didn't even bother to pay a military salute, but just waved their hands casually, indicating that the car can now pass at will.

So, the car just slowed down a little, rushed through the intersection, and continued to drive forward along the road.

Inside the car, the two men in the back row were dressed in aristocratic attire, and they were impatiently covering their mouths with their handkerchiefs.

The driver was a human being, but the co-pilot was an elf man. An AK-47 assault rifle was stuck on a special shelf next to the driver, and the elf man held a delicate long sword in his arms.

The wheels of the car ran over the slightly muddy black soil, and the corpses of demons were piled up not far from the wheels.

The corpses were not even classified. Beside the corpses of many decomposed demon dogs, there were densely packed demon civilians who didn't wear any decent clothes.

There were also some demon soldiers in armor mixed inside. On the big tree that hadn't fallen among the corpses, there was a wooden sign indicating where the road ahead led. It was written in artistic cursive characters: "Ahead, 48 city"

"The weather is already so cold, don't these demons need to wear clothes?" A nobleman in the back row spoke, breaking the dull atmosphere in the car.

Along the way, they have seen too many corpses of demons, most of them were too late to deal with, and there was a disgusting stench in the air.

Because of the shortage of manpower, most of the demons who died in the war were piled up and waited to be dealt with, but no one knew when these demons would be dealt with.

Anyway, the army's engineering unit is only responsible for pushing the corpses to both sides of the road to keep the road open. As for the corpses that died in the wilderness or in the fields, they were still left where they were, and no one picked them up.

"Om..." In the sky, a P-51 fighter jet roared past. Instead of bombs, it has a kind of spraying device hanging under the wings.

In order to prevent the outbreak of the plague, these corpses had to be sprayed with disinfectant regularly. Because there is no suitable aircraft, the P-51 fighter jets that have now been discontinued were transported to the Demon Realm and became the equipment of the logistics support force.

"Yeah, it's already so cold." Another nobleman nodded and said with some distress.

In his eyes, these corpses lying on the side of the road are all potential markets that have disappeared. As long as these demons work, they can consume too many things after they have money.

These demons don't even have clothes to wear, how many textiles are they going to buy? These demons didn't even have luggage when they fled. How many utensils and pots did they have to buy?

If you count radios and all kinds of household appliances... This is a huge market that has hardly been developed by anyone! How much money can this make?

And if, instead of paying wages to these demons, they only need to provide them with some food and daily necessities, they can obtain labor almost for free, how great is this value?

Don't you see, how expensive the human resources in the developed areas of Ireland are now. Set up some sweatshops here, and you will definitely make a lot of money!

Every time he thought of this place, the nobleman felt extremely distressed. Countless banknotes are just lying on the side of the road, rotten and smelly, and are gradually disappearing...

Of course, if these demons can really be tamed.

"My lord, many civilians don't have decent clothes. When I was a child, I hardly went out in winter." The bodyguard who was driving slightly adjusted the steering wheel, stared at the front seriously, and explained to the two unearthly employers behind him.

A person can still only wear thin, ragged clothes in winter, it has nothing to do with whether the weather is cold or not, it has nothing to do with how much money is in his pocket...

The elf magician didn't speak all the time, he just looked at the "demons" who were no longer manic and vicious. He is also a bodyguard, but the price and fighting power are higher than those of drivers.

"So, business is the way to save the world. Look at you now. You have decent clothes and a lot of gold coins in your pockets. This is all due to me." The businessman said proudly, and then He covered his nose with a handkerchief again.

"Yes." The driver nodded, very satisfied that he can find a good job now. He now has a son and a daughter, and his wife works in a newly opened car wash. The family lives a very good and happy life.

"Damn it, there's a live one over there!" Another noble who had been looking around saw a living demon and exclaimed loudly.

He saw in the wilderness in the distance, a thin demon lying on a corpse like a ghost, tearing something vigorously.

Compared with the many corpses that have been completely cooled, the equipment of this demon looks a bit better. He has complete clothes on his body, but they are still tattered.

I have seen countless such dresses in Alan Hill, and the nobles immediately attributed each other to the industry of beggars.

It's just that when a person sees other humanoids lying on their stomachs and chewing on corpses, it must be disgusting.

As a result, the nobleman felt his breakfast churning in his stomach. He subconsciously wanted to roll down the car window to breathe, but was held down by his companion.

Like trying to roll down a car window on a safari, it's certainly not safe to do the same here.

Moreover, the premise of ventilation is that the air outside the car is better-but looking at the corpses all over the place, this is obviously not the case.

"Why, why are you still alive?" The noble who was holding down his companion nervously asked the two bodyguards in front: "Yes, is there any danger?"

At this moment, he felt a little regretful that he had personally come to such a shabby place to investigate. Even if a large piece of land here has been sold to him by the empire, he shouldn't have come in person...

"It should have slipped through the net..." The elf finally spoke, and replied in the most professional tone: "There is no threat. If he approaches, I can deal with it alone."

"Don't stop..." After finally calming down, the nobleman who didn't waste his breakfast gave a pale face...

Another road sign was left behind by them, and the sign clearly read: "There are still 17 kilometers to the city of No. 48."