The high-pitched voice penetrated his ears. Roland, who was also unable to sleep due to being fixed in position by the metal appliance, blinked his eyelids and tried to turn his face sideways. In the end, he could only deflect the distance of a few hairs, and was trapped by the iron.
The body encircled by the hoop could not move at all, and a sigh gently flowed from the lips:
"After being deceived and sold to robbers, I resold it here."
"What? It turns out he is an idiot."
"What's the matter with you? There's nothing you can do if you're locked up here."[
In the same dangerous environment, we should help each other, but the guys around him laugh at other people's misfortunes. This attitude certainly does not satisfy Roland. Even if communication cannot be smooth, the most basic equality must be worked together at the moment.
They are indispensable in this situation, and it is really unreasonable for each other to respond to others in a mocking tone even when they are unable to protect themselves.
"Keep your voice down, you really want to be beaten half to death. Then gag your mouth, blindfold your eyes, and plug your ears? Try the smell of your brain going abnormal in less than a quarter of an hour?"
There was a tremor similar to fear in the low-pitched mockery. I tried to feel nothing but my own breathing and heartbeat, and could not do anything. After an extremely terrifying hour, I almost went crazy and went crazy. What happened? Experiencers almost
The threatening voice was still very soft, and Roland, who was dubious about the threat, blinked angrily.
"Winking and making faces is something only children can do."
Pretending to be an adult, he announced Roland's defeat and his own victory.
The [Box Friend] lying next to him should be able to see his facial movements in the same way. Roland quickly thought of the reason for the tiny movements.
"Convenient ears, are all orc ears so useful?"
"I'm not an orc, don't call me that name!"
He made a vicious sound as if he was going to bite off Roland's neck and shut him up. The little hooligan's ruffian-like tone ignited Roland's anger, and the urge to give him a shot ran through his body.
Both sides can only think about it.
The thoughts and passions that were burning in my head couldn't even be vented in front of the shackles and iron walls. The idea of fighting each other was impossible to put into practice. I didn't dare to vent my anger loudly with words.
Wearing a strange prison uniform with belts of various thicknesses that is used to deal with felons, the joints of the whole body are tightened. After lying down, it is put in and fixed twice by the iron ring on the inside of the [correction box]. After the cover is closed, the [correction]
The box] only has a small door to prevent suffocation and can communicate with the outside world. The six sides of the box are tightened to maximize the pressure on the boys' bodies by tightening the adjustment screws. The heat-dissipating iron blocks are close to the skin through the prison clothes - complete all
The cramped prison cell after debugging reminded Roland of the canned food that made him want to vomit. He was the "mysterious meat" in the iron box.
Actions under strict confinement and restraint can only be left to rot in the brain. The unnecessary waste of energy will only make oneself suffocated. After realizing this and spitting out the waste and anger, the boys calmed down.
"It's so stupid to be angry with humans..."
"It's so stupid to argue with a guy who doesn't even know what he is..."
Each person's hidden sarcasm and self-deprecation instantly reheated the atmosphere. They couldn't see each other's faces, but they could use their imagination to picture what an evil face full of veins looked like.
In the air that was so silent that it was about to explode, only the hot and stuffy breathing could be heard. They barely controlled their emotions so as not to get beaten up due to the violent verbal conflict. Roland and the mixed-race man both figured out one thing:
There are some guys in the world who just can't get along. There are guys like this regardless of country or race. The one lying next to me is...
In a time and space where even speaking and breathing were restricted, the boys fell asleep with their eyes wide open.[
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Albert Sullivan (lbertsullvn) has been engaged in the human trafficking industry for 14 years, a period that is enough to turn a child who cannot speak much into a teenager. The slave trader has received all kinds of clients, including
There are always very few customers with good image and temperament.
Big businessmen, priests, nobles, royal families...these big shots who spend a lot of money obviously have a strong desire for money, labor and carnal desires. When purchasing the necessary [goods], they often have inexplicable scruples about the law and the eyes of others. For their [
"Dignity", will never condescend to a place like the slave trade market where low-class people gather. It is common to send some smart business experts or domineering fools to negotiate business.
The negotiation process is always about bargaining and selling.
This time, it was still not the buyer who came to his door. However, from this agent, who was personable, spoke smoothly and elegantly, and spoke with ease, Sullivan felt that this transaction might be completely different from previous transactions.
"[Mr. Sullivan is the leader in this industry]. We who first entered the Viipuri trading often hear this kind of praise."
It is a very natural compliment for a businessman, and there is no trace of hypocrisy. The business smile, which is enough to be used as a reference for businessmen to learn from, was given the highest perfect score by Sullivan - 10 points. A slave trader who knows how hypocritical and vicious human nature can be is undetectable.
He bent his neck.
"If you want to buy a fine boy, go to Mr. Sullivan - every merchant says so, so we found him because of its reputation."
"That's the flattery and exaggeration of my colleagues. Unfortunately, if you want to buy a boy now, I'm afraid I can't help you. I don't have any extra inventory on hand. I'm very sorry to disappoint you."
After receiving the compliment and gently putting it down, the middle-aged man, who is familiar with the iron rule of "only half-listening to opponents and counterparties" in business dealings, twirled the thick and curly beard on his chin, and his sharp smile was hidden under the mask.
My eyes were sliding back and forth as I tried to see through the mysterious man in front of me who claimed to be a subordinate of a certain big shot.
Her blond hair, as soft and silky as silk, is meticulously combed into a back style close to her scalp. Her angular, square face and distribution of facial features are so ordinary that she will be forgotten after two or three throws into the crowd. Her slender palms
She looks slightly female, with calluses on the front and back of her hands that only appear after years of holding swords and swinging fists, and her clear blue eyes hold a resolute and dangerous aura.
"Guest, I have to say that the time you chose is very bad and unlucky."
The man who reported his name as [Maxwell] was not a plaything waiting for the bed, a loser who pretended to be powerful. This man had an unmistakable smell of blood on his body.
Sullivan was highly vigilant against elusive and extremely dangerous customers. The slave trader who had identified several people and goods believed that his eyesight would never be wrong. The [Maxwell] in front of him and the battlefield and the arena were all different.
The bloodthirsty beasts who survive with weapons in hand are fellow travelers, so there is almost no room for doubt...)