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墨書 Inktalez
Was this far enough?
While pretending to be drunk, he quietly observed what was behind him.
Phew, it seemed no one was following.
To avoid being exposed, he had wandered aimlessly in this Refugee Zone for a full half hour, maintaining his drunken act. But now, it seemed he no longer needed to pretend.
Ye Wumeng sighed inwardly; the thought of Anlius accidentally letting something slip weighed heavily on him, like a large stone pressing down on his heart.
It appeared that he could only hope for the Corpse Energy to yield a healing potion for the Corpse Poison.
For now, all he could do was increase his chances of finding the potion by maximizing his efforts in corpse searching.
Was this all left to fate?
Ha, how ridiculous.
He felt a sense of emptiness within him, as if he had lost something important.
Not wanting to dwell on it any longer, he looked around and realized he seemed to be standing at the edge of the Refugee Zone. Behind him was the Refugee Zone itself, while outside were enormous square buildings towering over everything, contrasting sharply with the small shanties of the Refugee Zone.
On top of these square buildings was a massive white pipe that connected to an even larger white chimney in the distance. The chimney emitted white smoke that appeared relatively clean.
It looked like an industrial area.
Ye Wumeng was filled with curiosity; this was only his second time here, aside from that one encounter with the air pump truck. He had merely glanced around back then and hadn’t truly explored this place.
As he scanned the area, his eyes fell upon a particularly eye-catching wooden building among those massive square structures, with a sign hanging above that read "Tavern."
Tsk, why didn’t the owner add their name to it?
Ye Wumeng chuckled and shook his head as he leisurely approached the tavern's entrance. Before he even stepped inside, he heard a cacophony of voices arguing and laughing.
"Haha, I earned some tickets today!"
"What’s so great about tickets? I made some today too!"
"But I only worked for an hour!"
"What! How can you earn so many tickets so easily? Teach me! I'll buy you a Malt Yeast Wine!"
"Heh, actually..."
"Kid, you're just a refugee; what tickets are you trying to earn in the industrial zone? Don’t make things harder for yourself!"
"You! Don’t push your luck!"
The mixed chatter filled his ears and made his eardrums ache, but amidst the noise, he thought he heard a familiar voice—not from inside the tavern but from somewhere outside.
Ye Wumeng slightly closed his eyes; with his current physique, he could still catch sounds from about a hundred meters away.
Soon enough, he pinpointed the source of the voice—it seemed to be coming from a small alley next to a factory.
With curiosity and a mindset to see if he could help collect some corpses, he walked over and focused his gaze.
He saw seven or eight Dry Men overpowering a young boy with dark yellow skin who lay sprawled on the ground, clutching his arms tightly across his chest as if protecting something precious.
It’s him! Ye Wumeng recalled the boy who had been mocked by everyone that morning. Should he intervene?
In his past life, the story of the farmer and the snake had already played out too many times for him, which was why he had developed his current caution and adaptability. He truly did not want to go through such experiences again. Besides, incidents like this happened every day in the camp; how many could he save? He couldn’t even save himself right now!
He decided to wait and see. Would they loosen their grip?
One of them wore an expression filled with rage as he kicked the boy in the stomach.
“Ugh!”
The boy gritted his teeth, blood trickling from his mouth, his eyes fiercely glaring at the group as he resolutely declared, “I won’t let go!”
“Damn it!”
The anger on the man’s face twisted to an extreme as he lifted his leg to kick the boy again, venting his frustration. The boy merely curled up tightly, eyes shut, enduring the blows.
The beating continued for five minutes. The boy’s breath grew faint, yet his hands still clung desperately to his chest.
“Boss, I think he’s about done for. Should we try to take it again?” one of them suggested.
“Take? This kid was like a rabid dog before; anyone who approached got bitten. I don’t want to be bitten! You go ahead!” The leader spoke harshly, scanning the others, who all lowered their heads.
Only a fool would want to be that unlucky one. After all, if they got hurt, they would have to see that strange and cunning old man Anlius for treatment. How many vouchers did they dare squander like that?
So usually, they would endure their ailments and see if they would heal on their own, only risking a trip to the Refugee Zone to find Anlius when things became particularly severe. After all, they were noble commoners; it was understandable that those refugees envied their wealth.
Seeing that no one wanted to step up, the leader snorted through his nose and turned to the boy on the ground, who looked in poor condition.
“Kid, why are you going through all this for a few vouchers? Just give them to me and we can all get along fine. You think this won’t happen if you’re a refugee? What’s the point of this?”
Hearing this, the boy stirred slightly, half-closing his eyes before opening them wide again, revealing a stubbornness and anger within. His voice was hoarse as he roared back, “This is my year’s worth of effort! Even if I die, I won’t let go! I want to live with my grandfather’s will intact!”
Live on—yes, wasn’t that what he wanted too?
Hiding in the shadows, Ye Wumeng listened to the boy's words, his fists clenched tightly and trembling uncontrollably. He finally realized what he had lost: his proud will to survive!
Damn it, what a ridiculous fate! What kind of fate is that for him? After all, he was not someone who liked to entrust his destiny to others! Not even to fate itself!
It seemed he had exhausted all his strength; the boy's eyelids grew heavier. Yet, he still clutched his chest tightly with both hands, gritting his teeth to keep himself awake.
Boss! He’s not going to make it!
Did you really need to say that? The leader smacked the head of the person next to him, a smirk curling at the corners of his mouth.
What a pity, another one bites the dust. But who cares in this world?
He chuckled as he crouched down, looking at the barely breathing boy with the posture of a victor, his mouth full of smugness.
Heh, kid, do you know? Your ideals are indeed quite moving, but the mistake lies in being in this damned world.
As he spoke, he grabbed the boy's arm and forcefully twisted it apart. Several different denominations of Blue Vouchers fluttered to the ground.
Ha ha, kid, you’ve got quite a stash here! Did you earn this in just one hour today? Oh dear, I’ll graciously accept it.
Pain flashed in the boy's eyes as he lay there, unable to muster any strength to reach for the Blue Vouchers on the ground. Suddenly, his pupils constricted, staring blankly at the man before him.
Are you stunned? What a shame; you won’t survive this injury. Even if you find Anlius, you won’t have the money for treatment.
The boy shook his head and muttered woodenly about what was behind him.
Huh?
The man looked puzzled, completely not understanding what the boy was saying.
Has he gone mad?
But just then!
A blood-soaked cutlass appeared beside his face, the blade repeatedly slapping against his cheek. The warm blood felt slightly viscous as it made a slapping sound against his skin. A cold voice rang out from behind him.
I don’t know if he’s gone crazy or not, but I do know you’re about to die.
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