Chapter 633: : You have lost all the bandits' faces

Watching a group of three people left the tent, Zhuang not far couldn't help but sigh.
In the state, with the development of society, the real poverty has been very few and even forgotten by the public. But in the era of exile, this kind of chaos, poverty, struggle, pain, is inherently lingering. .
To risk some life for a few cubes of sugar, in Zhuang not far away, it is impossible to imagine.
But even the old bang felt that this kind of thing was normal.
"If you may starve to death at any time, your life is worth only one meal. A cube of sugar can be exchanged for one day's ration. Instead of eating and living for two days, he has earned more than three dollars. "
Zhuang didn't know until now that life could be counted like this.
It turned out that the exile of the era, the farthest glance, can only see if the next meal can be full, will it starve to death tomorrow.
acquired? future?
Too extravagant, why think so much.
In Zhuang's fantasy, the people of the Exile era are driving mechanical giant dogs, sailing boats, horse-drawn carriages, and various means of transportation. They roam and explore in the Exile era. Joy, and unknown fear, as written in fantasy novels.
But in fact, in the era of exile, all kinds of transportation are much rarer than on the earth. People like old bangs who can drive mechanical giant dogs through the universe, on the earth, are probably able to drive supercars to swagger across the city. Local tyrant.
Most of the people in the Exile era were long and undressed, struggling to survive among the broken and ruined ruins, fragments, or curled up in the shackles of war dogs in shackles, lying on their backs. The bottom of the ship is in a mezzanine with a height of less than one meter.
This kind of understanding has a great impact on Zhuang not far away. The era of exile is like a flattened earth. It removes complex and multi-dimensional illusory things such as identity, status, wealth, power, and influence, and becomes The hierarchy is flat to a glance.
Simple to brutal.
Perhaps this is the truth of the world, and we live in a false dream.
Zhuang not far away playing with a cube of sugar, listening to the hammering sound of the old bang jingling, lost in thought.
Just then, Zhuang not far heard a few vicious roars from the door.
"Here it is, this kind of magic little cube is sold here!"
"Hey, have you just come out of it!"
"Take that little cube out!"
"Dare to resist, do you want to eat a knife?"
After the roar of this loud voice, there was a weak wailing cry.
"Give it up, don't get my knife dirty!"
Zhuang not far frowned, opened the curtain of the tent, walked out of the tent, and saw four wanderers surrounded three peasants with a fierce look.
Zhuang not far away, there are many rogues.
Most of the wanderers stab a large area of ​​tattoos on the face or in a conspicuous position. In the era of exile, tattoos can be said to be a sign of wanderers.
Even if there is no tattoo on their face, and their bodies are covered with armor, the wanderers are completely different in appearance. There is always a lingering fierce taunt and a trance, which can be distinguished only by feeling.
It is said that the fallen dragons have two sides and three swords, only for profit, they are by nature.
DNA sequencing was performed for the fallen dragons at the manor, and several key genes were found to have mutated. Perhaps it was the gap between the fallen dragons 'selfishness and the six-armed dragons' tenacity and loyalty.
However, the fallen dragons still retain some of their characteristics of "submitting power", so they can constitute a complex "black triangle thief" with a complex system and hierarchical structure and command system.
Can also be used for Zhuang not far.
But the wanderers, whether they should be wise and meticulous, the enthusiastic lampholder, or the sincere and sincere three pupils, the innocent velvet people, all show a kind of fierce, Selfish and belligerent.
Perhaps, for many years after the war between the manor and the Industrial Party, these wanderers have evolved into a new race, or a new subspecies, in a harsh and complex environment, just as the fallen dragons were among the six. Brachiosaurus.
Old Bang told a joke in the manor.
"I tell you, once I met three waves of wanderers to rob me."
Everyone laughed before the old boom came.
Only Zhuang not far looked aggressive.
Then Lao Banglong asked Zhuang not far away: "How frightening to meet a few rogues?"
Zhuang not far more aggressive.
"I don't know, a little!" The servants despised Zhuang not far.
I do n’t know, but who is the owner?
Wanderers are inherently unable to maintain large-scale groups, with a group of no more than ten people, and no sense of collective honor or belonging, and no sense of identity. If they encounter two wanderers, they might fight first.
What if three dials are encountered?
You can wait for them to finish and fight back.
Simply double-click 666.
No wonder the servants of the manor laughed so much. This kind of good thing never happened once in a lifetime. It was a feeling of leapfrogging monsters and picking up heads.
According to the DND classification, the wanderers probably belong to the chaotic camp, and the three-city, ten-town system belongs to the order camp.
At this time, the four wanderers outside the tent obviously belonged to a small group.
They were covered with thick tattoos, and one of them was holding a short knife and pointing at the farmer.
Another wanderer, with one foot on the face of the peasant leader, was pulling a small bag from his arms.
"My lords, please leave us a piece. I have children at home, and I'm starving ..."
"Get out of here! Give me a hand!" The wanderer yanked suddenly, and the white sugar cubes dropped to the ground.
Seeing sugar cubes scattered on the ground ~ EbookFREE.me ~ Several farmers hurried to pick.
And the wanderers rushed up as if they saw gold. One of them grabbed one and shoved it into the mouth regardless of the dirt and grass on it.
Then he reached out to another piece of sugar, and saw a farmer reach out and grabbed the sugar, and the knife in his hand was chopped out.
With a squeak, blood splattered, and the peasant screamed while holding his almost broken wrist, and the blood stained the cubes of red.
Regardless, the wanderer grabbed the blood-stained sugar cubes and shoved them into his mouth.
He straightened up, looked at the knife in his hand, and looked at a few peasants. Suddenly, he succumbed to the gall, while taking a spit, slashing the knife to a few peasants: "Fuck, you laozi Dirty! I chopped you! "
"Stop!" Zhuang not sighed and jumped out.
Grab a few cubes of sugar, just kill someone for a few cubes of sugar?
"You almost lost the bandits' faces!"