"Is this asking me to save people?"

Behind a group of discussing craftsmen, Ken also frowned silently.

"Watcher's apprentice, what exactly is wrong with him?"

Ken's question attracted the crowd.

The blacksmiths looked at each other, no one knew the specific situation.

Watcher is introverted and paranoid. He is an extremely difficult old man to get along with. Don't expect him to take the initiative to chat with you about everyday things.

"I heard about it from my apprentice."

"He seems to be trying to hide it."

Malungu looked down at Ken and asked loudly: "Do you have the connections or resources in this area? The remuneration will be borne by the workshop, just ask the price."

The craftsmen still sympathize with each other, but Watcher doesn't know how to express it or ask for help.

Ken shook his head regretfully and said, "Try your best."

He couldn't ask for any information, so he said goodbye to everyone, picked up the singer with weak and trembling legs, and left.

Passing through the long and narrow mountains again.

There are holes with yellow light shining on the cliffs on both sides.

Now he already knows: these are all independent workshops, and the craftsmen in them are much better than the apprentices, but they are inferior to the four blacksmiths under Malungu.

Ken walked silently and kept thinking:

The industry in Duwa Village is sound.

As a tribe with thousands of permanent residents, various facilities are relatively complete, including places that can treat injuries and illnesses.

All kinds of people gather here, including shamans who can lift curses, mystics who can contribute potions, elves who are close to nature, and travelers who master healing magic...

The more Ken thought about it, the weirder it got.

He can use experience points, which is just a little more efficient. If the above group of people are helpless, he will not have a better way.

Could it be that the mission is to seize the opportunity and take action earlier than others?

Ken walked through the doorway, walked past the crowded but orderly workbench, greeted the administrator, and finally walked out of the side door of the workshop.

The rider stood by the shop across the street.

He spread his hands in the air and shook his head. Next to him was the brother and sister, who were still eating diligently, as if the food was only safe if it went into their stomachs.

"What's wrong?"

Ken approached and asked.

The boy stood up, panting, he was eating very awkwardly, spread out his palm with two gold coins, and said in a hoarse voice: "Kind sir, there is no need, we can't keep it."

Ken squatted down and gave him an approving look.

"Were you harassed just now?"

"No," the boy shook his head, keeping his sister behind. "But it will happen sooner or later."

Ken looked around. Although he didn't see slave traders, there were many mercenaries, bandits, and fraudsters.

War will not break out in this open village, but there is a serious lack of control. It is not suitable for orphans to grow up, or in other words, it is difficult for them to survive to grow up.

"Do you want to come with me?"

"Going to southern Xinjiang, like my friends?"

Ken shook his head, inexplicably feeling that he had been accused of being a human trafficker, and explained: "Instead of going outside the high wall, my village is at the end of the Goulang Mountain Road, called Sandun Kaya..."

Some tribes and ports will come to Kee Village to recruit people.

But their main targets are laborers or soldiers, and children are unnecessary burdens. Under the pressure of survival, the moral requirements of the North are not high.

He felt that the brothers and sisters were shaken, so he continued to add:

"A safe and warm house, plenty of food, and you can eat slowly."

The elder brother was suddenly stunned. The child was innocent after all. He asked doubtfully: "But those adults in southern Xinjiang said the same thing!"

The rider turned his back and the chanter pretended to cough.

Ken closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking why he had to talk so much. This line was indeed no different from that of a human trafficker.

"Don't be in a hurry, think about it slowly."

He gathered his emotions and said: "You can keep the money. My station is at the camp at the back door of the village. If you don't have a place to live, go there. If you are bullied, you can come and tell me the name of Ken Bouvier."

The boy hesitated.

At a young age, he was already well aware of the dangers of money, but when he thought of his sister's clothes and shoes, he unconsciously shook his dirty hands.

"By the way, do you know Mr. Watcher? He should have just left not long ago."

"I know that he also has an apprentice named Arthur. Mr. Watcher goes to the supermarket shelves every day to look for him."

The boy took his sister and ran to the front to lead the way. The little guy was very serious about his work.

Kuima returned to the team. Except for Ken, no one noticed where he came from. They only heard him whisper the news he got from the slave trader:

Baiwujie is the underground black market in Duwa Village, where informal transactions can be found.

A few people walked directly to the Altar Square in Duwa Village. The sound of forging basically stopped here. Craftsmen who had finished their work and travelers who were in transit would come here to have fun.

There is a mixed crowd around.

Ken kept the two children close to him.

Since just now, there have been continuous ripples of magic power, and there have been three thieves passing by, but he just avoided them and no conflict broke out.

Led by the children, everyone turned their backs on the bustling market and came to an alley.

There were quite a few people standing by the walls on both sides, most of them talking in low voices, and from time to time someone would look at them.

Ken was wearing a dark [velvet fur cloak], a dark and simple battle armor, and his boots buckled on the stone tile floor, making a steady and crisp sound.

There was a faint glint in his eyes, he pushed out half of his steel sword and glanced around the corner.

The guy who was performing the secret spying technique immediately lowered his head, and he explained softly to his companions: "The children are leading the way. Four people, six weapons, can be allowed to go, but don't provoke them casually."

Ken walked forward, turned the corner of the alley, and was greeted by the sound of commotion.

[Someone has used secret techniques to isolate the movement here. The black market is quite chaotic. Most of the capable guys are actually liars.]

The venue is very open, and batches of display racks are placed against the wall.

The end of the long street branched off to the left and right, and there was actually more space. Charming singing came from the building, and the cheers became louder and louder.

The merchant approached Ken.

He is wearing a [Sticky Feather Mask], and there are bottles of mysterious liquid in the wooden box on his chest. The labels have words such as "happy", "gentle", "fearless" and "powerful" written in Umma language.

The price and presentation are both unsatisfactory.

The bustling streets were filled with laughter and roars. People concealed their identities and twisted and twisted like wandering ghosts. Everyone exuded a debauched and weird atmosphere.

"How do I find this? Can I ask?"

Kuima turned around, and the rider and chanter also looked confused.

Ken thought for a moment: Since the notes can give the task, there must be guidance. There is no prompt yet, so we can only try the old method.
Chapter completed!