Chapter 280 The Second Day

574

At night, Ms. D finished her dinner, bid farewell to her partner, and left the mansion surrounded by a maid, and drove her carriage to the hotel she had booked tonight.

At the beginning, she established a cooperative relationship with some local institutions as a great nobleman in Intis, the city has begun to turn to the Bailang Empire, so it is naturally impossible for her to live in the mansion openly. Although she is also a member of the Aurora Society, under the gaze of many eyes who know her aristocratic identity, she will still cause trouble for her partner without taking any risk.

She has already decided on the best suite in the hotel through relationships - almost the upper-middle level in the North Mainland, after all, the price is there, only 1 pound a night.

In ordinary rooms, there are often only moldy bedding, thatched pillows and mattresses, and old and damaged furniture.

After settling down the carriage and horses, after waiting in the hotel hall for a while, Ms. D's inspiration was slightly touched and she saw two figures slowly walking towards the end of the dim street.

“…Mr. X.”

Ms. D stood up and shouted out the other party's title with some hesitation: "Sorry, your condition looks a bit bad."

Not just bad, but it looks very bad!

The man who appeared in front of him now had a haggard face, dull expression, and strange stains in the corner of his clothes, was completely different from Mr. X in his memory. What's more, there was a secret olympic enzo next to him, who was obviously a North Mainlander, which led to this "Secret Olympic Master" now seemingly becoming a South Mainlander follower of a North Mainlander!

“…”

Mr. X did not answer.

Ms. D wanted to speak but stopped and remained silent until the other party walked in front of her step by step.

The secret servant stood up expressionlessly, and the fellow traveler raised his head and saw a pair of confused and painful eyes.

Thinking that this companion seemed to be coming to the Southern Mainland for the first time, Ms. D understood a little, and her image of Mr. X was a little clearer in her heart - he had an unexpectedly high moral level and empathy ability, and perhaps she lived a relatively wealthy life in the Northern Mainland, and should be the middle class, and she was less exposed to this matter - but she still didn't speak. She led Klein to the front desk and handed him the key to another room.

"You need to be quiet and have a good night's sleep."

She asked quite understandingly: "Or need a confession room to make some emotional regulating prayers?"

Oh, then again - the two of them, the gods of the Aurora Society, who were famous for their faith, did not even pray for "praise the Lord" after seeing each other for so long. Could it be that Mr. X actually has other beliefs, or is he the same unbeliever as himself?

Hearing this, Klein's eyes rolled.

What I might need is a psychologist... He thought, and then thought of the simple psychological treatment that happened on the Source Fort after returning from the Mist Town.

Miss "Justice"'s psychotherapy techniques are very immature, but they are not completely ineffective.

But... If Miss "Justice" heard and saw this, would she become more in need of a psychologist than me? Even if she could really treat me, how could I do it to say everything I saw... Klein couldn't help but "sneer". The charitable donation party he held before coming to the South Mainland was involuntarily emerging in his mind. At the party, he used Daisy as the prototype to tell the story of a poor girl working hard day and night, hoping to read.

With this, he raised 100,000 pounds in just one night, successfully built a charitable foundation, and made Miss Audrey one of the directors.

But within forty-eight hours of coming to the Southern Continent, Klein's little pride of the rich and charitable workers was completely shattered.

People here need help more, but even if Dawn Dontez makes another move, how much money can they raise?

Those nobles who once generously donated money, even if they were just for their reputation, would they really be willing to donate to this barbaric, backward, bloody, cruel and pitiful land?

“…I used to be active in areas where poor people gathered, in the chaotic southern continent, so I have seen a lot of things.”

"There is a little girl who has been helping her mother make matchboxes since she was 6 years old. If she doesn't do this, their family will not even have the money to buy black bread after paying the rent. The black bread they eat has a lot of wheat bran, and occasionally bite gravel and stones. The hard part can be used as a stick to attack others..."

"When the little girl grew up, although she was very tired every day and had no extra money at home, she still yearned for the night school held by the church, hoping to learn words and master knowledge, because she knew that only in this way can she not continue her current life, not go hungry, wear clothes that can truly resist the cold, and not go to factories with harsh conditions, and die in her twenties..."

Daisy's family was destroyed in the smog, and the little subsidy she received was only enough for this girl who was about the same age as Melissa to barely live near the East Side of Beckland. This story after several polishes by Klein did not have the suffocating despair of her prototype, but it still made the nobles present burst into tears, which was probably the minimum they could accept.

——I think eating black bread and not having money to go to school are the worst poor people.

Member Macht was also hit hard in an attack, although he was not injured. - because the attacker's factory was occupied by the "anthracite" they promoted, his family was destroyed, and he raised his gun at him in despair.

These are probably the limits of the "bottom" and "sad" world that they can understand.

Pain is not divided into levels, but it will reflect high and low in people. The minimum life they can imagine is already the days in the dreams of groups that are completely lost and completely ignored.

As for selling your body, picking up garbage as food...

Not to mention the nobles, even Klein himself did not dare to think about it many times. He just kept it in his heart as a vague impression and always sounded as a wake-up call. Because if he stayed in that dark and desperate world for a long time, he would be swallowed up.

This is the limitation of the times, and this is the limitation of morality.

Even in the old era, there were still wars, famines, starvation, and people who were above the top.

——But how long has such a world lasted? One thousand years? Two thousand years?

“…I need to be quiet, rest for a while, and have a good night’s sleep.”

After a few seconds of silence, Klein spoke, his voice rippled and deep enough to be unimaginable.

Azke Eggs's words once lingered in his ears:

"Kline, in this world, so far, is there even a moment that makes you want to stay?"

Is there any?

Maybe there were, when I saw Benson and Melissa’s smiles—but then he died.

Now Benson and Melissa have received his £6,000 pension, Benson has been admitted to the government employee, and Melissa is going to college.

It would be better for their lives to go on like this. They would have no worries about food and clothing. They would have walked out of the shadow of brother's death. They would no longer need the participation of an extraordinary person who would attract countless potential troubles due to the law of extraordinary aggregation.

Apart from delicious food, interesting people - he also had these two things in the old era, and there were much more than now. He had only been here for a year and had not forgotten the names of his favorite spicy hotpot, braised chicken and barbecue restaurant, nor did he forget his classmates who were still in contact with him, and what were the names of colleagues with good relationships - where is there any place worth staying in this era?

What he established in this world is often friendship based on interest relations. Even Klein Moretti's face has not been used for a long time. How could he confidently say that those who know his other identities must be their friends?

Maybe there are...

But looking around his long-standing memory, Klein was actually hesitant.

He must ask himself carefully.

If the real Creator wants him to protect such a world, should he do it? And if he cannot turn a blind eye to all this, what else can he do?

"Okay, I wish you a good night's sleep tonight."

Ms. D smiled and said:

"Mr. X, I am also a priest. If you need confession, you can come to me."

Klein didn't go to see her, but nodded.

"Thanks."

They quietly walked upstairs side by side and walked into different rooms.

The wooden door slammed shut, isolating the inside and outside.

575

In the early morning, in a wooded area on the outskirts of Berens.

A small team of cavalrymen rushed to their destination while the night was shining. They were silent and performed important tasks.

"Stop"

The blonde major general in the lead, Constantine Levitt suddenly stopped the horse, used his physical movements to signal his followers to stop, then looked at the scouts in the team and made several gestures in succession.

"Go ahead to reconnaissance, if you find the enemy's traces, report it as soon as possible"

When the scout received the signal, he immediately turned over and dismounted, silently rushed into the woods under the red moon, and disappeared into the dark shadow.

The temperature difference between day and night in the southern continent is only about ten degrees, so the night is not stuffy, but it is a bit comfortable.

When the cavalry were waiting immediately, there were slight worms ringing in the woods again, as if small animals kept running past the horse's hooves, making rustling sounds, which made the horse unable to help but walk around.

About a few minutes later, when the Red Moon reached the right time, the scout ran back quickly.

"The enemy appears in front of you"

"Two teams are transporting food, and one is transporting the wounded."

Injured?

Didn’t it mean that it was just an attack on the team that transported supplies? Why did the wounded appear? Constantine had an instinctive rejection of attacking the weak, which came from his concept of educating and protecting the weak. He frowned and looked at his adjutant, who shook his head.

Perhaps it was a misjudgment... In the face of the overall situation, his personal likes and dislikes could not be tolerated to delay military affairs. He suppressed the discomfort in his heart and looked at the scout again.

The scout understood and made gestures:

"The three teams are basically ordinary people, and there are about ten extraordinary people."

As expected, there are very few extraordinary people.

The extraordinary people in the Death Path are promoted more like the dead, and their demand for food will be greatly reduced. At the same time, the aura of the underworld and the instinct of subconsciously killing the living lives will also have an impact on the wounded and the food, and accelerate death.

If the food is taken from the Gate of Underworld, it will be completely out of food.

The adjutant looked at Constantine and used gestures to communicate:

"Attack from the team that transported the wounded"

Constantine frowned, and glanced at his cavalry squad with more than twenty people and opposed the adjutant:

"The wounded cannot return to the battlefield soon, our goal is to burn food and grass."

Before the adjutant could make another gesture, he turned his head and waved to the team behind him: "Go forward"

...

At the same time, in the camp of the Red War.
To be continued...