: The second year story 035, the **** of harvest

This kind of noise in the room is endless. It sounds like the person called the village head is already utterly unreasonable and can't stand it. But he was still insisting on something, and he just refused to agree. Such a verbal warfare between you and me, the voice is so loud that the outside idiots can hear it clearly. Just when those people were still arguing, the idiot knocked on the door gently, and found that the door was unlocked, and pushed it open without authorization.
What appeared in front of me was a well-decorated room hall with a floor covering the floor and paintings on the walls. Many people dressed in different outfits are sitting on the sofa, standing, or squatting directly on the floor, all of them are men of the same age. Each of these men had a fierce face, and they surrounded a man in his fifties who was wearing a wool short coat and a mustache near the fire. The saliva around him almost splashed his face, but he couldn't even wipe it, and he kept gesticulating with both hands, hoping to comfort the villagers around him and let himself say a few words.
atmosphere……
It seems bad.
The more I said, the worse the faces of the surrounding villagers. Some of them even raised their sleeves, meaning they were ready to rush up for a fight. When the village chief saw this posture of the villagers, he was even more terrified. He trembled and squatted in front of the fire with his head in his arms, not even daring to comfort him.
"Say! What are you going to do! The memorial ceremony is about to be held on August 1st! It is now in late June. There is only more than a month left! In case nothing is ready, mess with the harvest Weimen' If you get angry, how do you plan to take this responsibility!!!"
The idiot raised his head and put his bag in the corner. Because he has confirmed that this village is indeed Desapush, and the target of the mission should indeed be the first-class beast-Viemen.
In the full-blown accusations and abuses, the village chief did not dare to move like a frightened rabbit. He allows these people to scold him, but who knows the pain in his heart? By now, I am afraid he has been praying in his heart to hurry over tonight, pray that these abusers are tired, and leave quickly...
"I am here to complete the task."
Amidst the suffocating fiery sound, a cold voice suddenly sounded. Perhaps it was because the voice was too cold, and it was quickly covered up by the accusation sound. But the village chief who was at the center of the accusation was taken aback for a moment, suddenly raised his head, and looked behind the crowd
There, an eleven-year-old beggar who seemed to have snowflakes floating all over his body was standing there quietly.

It was cold and spread across the lobby in the darkness.
As the village chief looked up and stared, one person turned his head, two people turned his head, three people looked back...more and more people turned their heads and saw the child. A black hair, an expressionless face, a sound of tattered clothes like a beggar, his hands and feet are all heavily shackles, and those cold black pupils that are almost not human.
Who is he?
In everyone's hearts, this question was simultaneously thought of. But when these people turned their eyes to the little beggar's back and saw the sleeping little baby girl, their surprised and surprised expressions appeared on their faces again.
Who is he?
Why are you here?
What is he here for?
Three questions fill people's brains. As the child walked towards the village chief whose face was a bit distorted because of his surprise, dozens of pairs of eyes stared at the village chief again.
"You... are you...?"
The village chief stretched out his fingers, tremblingly pointed at the idiot, then pointed at the bread on the idiot's back, his eyes erratic.
The idiot did not answer, but took out the task briefing and handed it directly to the village chief: "I accept the task entrustment you submitted. Now, come and complete the task."
"task?!"
Upon hearing this word, all the villagers were startled. But soon, some of these people started to get excited. One of the strong men came over and grabbed the mission briefing and opened it. After a brief review, he threw the mission briefing on the village chief’s face and said loudly to everyone: "You This bastard! Everyone, our village head actually commissioned Fengchushacheng to conquer the task of killing the "Harvest God Weimen"! What do you think, you are bold enough to want to kill the "God"?! "
Hearing what the strong man said, the emotions of the people around him became more excited. But at the moment when everyone was passionate, the village chief suddenly jumped up, folded his hands, and shouted—
"Enough! You people only know me! But you tell me, what would you do if you were in this situation?! I entrusted the task for the sake of the safety of the village, as a last resort! But I did not expect to receive The task was turned out to be such a little kid. It can be seen that the empire has never paid attention to a small village like ours! Now, I still can’t escape the curse of the harvest Weimen... You said, what should you do if you replace it with you? do!!!"
In an instant, the hall was silent. Maybe it was because the village chief’s sudden roar was frightened, maybe because the village chief’s eyes squeezed a little bit of tears, everyone stopped talking, just look at the small and unremarkable idiot, and then look at it. Look at the village chief over there...
This is an unchangeable result...is it? Since being taken by that god, this is the fate of this village. The fire has also started. But getting angry can't change anything at all. The festival is approaching, and everything will not change anymore. Everything in this... has been booked long ago.
"village head……"
A younger villager took a step and seemed to want to say something. His tone was much more euphemistic than before, but an older village name grabbed him and motioned him to stop talking. Because of that power of attorney, it was the child with a baby in front of him who was entrusted, and the tears in the corner of the village head’s eyes, have explained everything...
The idiot lowered his head, and his cold gaze swept across the faces of those around him. After thinking for a while, he refocused his gaze on the face of the village head in front of him.
"The task is detailed, the task is required. You, speak."
People around you look at me and I look at you. I am afraid that none of these people would think that this eleven-year-old child can do anything. They shook their heads and sighed. The village chief who released the entrustment looked up at the ceiling, tears rolling from the corners of his eyes, and could not say a word...
"Child, forget it. Anyway, you have been used by the empire? You came to me so far. This is not something you can do as a kid. You will stay with me for one night tonight, tomorrow You can go back. Do you have any money for the return ticket? If not, I can give you..."
When the village chief said this, the villagers knew what to do now. These people either sighed or scratched their heads, and left the village chief’s house silently. In a moment, the living room that was very crowded just now became spacious, only the messy sofas and the sordid footprints. The dirty floor also shows the situation here just now.
After everyone left, the village chief patted his pants, picked up a trampled pillow from the ground, and put it back on the sofa. Looking at the mess in the house, he shouted at the stairs leading to the second floor: "Dahlia, come down and help me clean up."
The idiot raised his head and saw a woman's face slowly poking out of the stairs leading to the second floor. The woman's face was pale, and she was obviously shocked. She looked downstairs for a while, and after a long time, she said timidly, "Are they...really gone?"
"Ah, let's go. Come down. By the way, I have something to tell you. We have guests tonight."
"Oh."
The woman agreed, and then slowly walked down the stairs. With the light in the stove, the idiot really saw the woman's appearance at this time.
This is a woman in her early thirties. Although she is overly frightened, she is still a pretty woman. The face of a melon seed is dotted with a small cherry lips, and the slightly scattered hair gives a unique charm of mature women. And another point made the idiot take a few more glances. She was holding a boy about three or four years old in her arms, clutching the collar of the woman named Dahlia tightly, shrinking to her mother. Arms.
The village head turned his head, smiled at the idiot very tiredly, and said, "This is my wife, Dahlia. Son, Stephen. In addition to this, I have an eight-year-old daughter and a six-year-old. Son. Are they asleep?"
The last sentence was addressed to Dahlia. After the young woman nodded slightly, the village head touched her slightly thinning hair and slumped on the sofa.
"Huh... I'm so tired today. Dahlia, help this child arrange a room. He will leave tomorrow. Don't let our guests feel uncomfortable sleeping this night."
Dahlia looked at the idiot, and then leaped over the idiot's shoulder and saw the little bread. And the little boy who was held in the arms of this woman stared at the sleeping bun with big eyes at the moment. Maybe it was her unusual pink hair, or maybe it was the kind of peace she was sleeping. Provoked him no small interest.
Dahlia nodded very obediently. She walked over and reached out to the idiot, showing a gentle smile unique to women, and said: "Brother, come with auntie, auntie will arrange you a good bed and make sure you sleep. It smells so fragrant that it’s not night at night."
The idiot raised his head and looked at Dahlia from top to bottom. Then he went straight around Dahlia, walked to the village head lying on the sofa, and stood still.
"I took over the task, please tell me the details of the task."