War destroys an era, and war creates a new world. I don't know when, the night is no longer completely dark. Under the night, two deep, dark red fluorescent lights lit up, slowly drifting in the air. The place covered by the faint light of Fluorescent lights is full of thick, dark green sewage that always exudes a thick and rancid smell. Even in corners where there is almost no light, the sewage will emit a pale green glow, illuminating a small area around. Compared with its unbearable filth, lethal radiation is the most dangerous thing about this almost ubiquitous sewage.
In the puddles formed by the accumulation of sewage, rags of the original color, rusty iron cans, and carrion corpses left by unknown animals, all kinds of dirt floated or sank. From time to time, giant rats nearly one meter long would come out of nowhere, squeak and scream, rush through the sewage, and disappear into the darkness. Although the radiation levels are high enough to kill a mature horse, the giant rats appear to be immune to its effects. However, they occasionally drop pieces of rotten meat with fur and leather.
Fluorescent lights floated up a few meters, stopped at the top of a slanted steel beam, and scanned the world under the dark night. The two red dots reflect buildings with only frames left, houses with half-collapsed walls, and car wrecks scattered around. In the world under the night, green fluorescent light is reflected everywhere. Fifty years ago, this place was known as a ruin, but it is now referred to as a city.
A blinding flame suddenly lit up at the corner of the street not far away, and crazy and hysterical shouts were intertwined and rushed towards this side quickly. Fluorescent lights were frightened and quickly opened four transparent wings, vibrating rapidly and flew to a high place. A fire just happened to shine on it, and a huge beetle more than one meter long could be seen flying away into the distance.
The man holding the torch had no interest in the beetle, he just ran with all his strength in front of the crowd, roaring like a beast from time to time. The flames quickly faded away, and the giant beetle disappeared into the darkness again. However, a gust of strong wind blew by suddenly, and the giant beetle let out a scream as sharp as a needle. Its sharp knives and feet could not stop sparking on the masonry and steel bars, and its four wings flapped desperately, but it was still caught. Slowly dragged into the deep darkness.
Then, corresponding to its scream, came the sound of chewing. Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed through the dark alley, and a woman who looked extremely panicked rushed in. As soon as she entered the alley, she noticed a figure sitting against the wall. The man's whole body was covered in a black blanket, his head lowered, and his face obscured. From his thin frame, he looked more like an eight or nine-year-old child.
The woman gritted her teeth, rushed over with a few strides, and forced the swaddling baby she was holding tightly into the man's arms, crying: "Please, save her!" The fluorescent light emitted by the puddle of sewage under the wall illuminated the woman's face. Although the light flickered dimly, one could still see that she had a very young and beautiful face. She appeared to be only about twenty years old and had delicate snow-white skin that was rare in this era - enough to make most women jealous enough to want to slap her. Her neck was slender and straight, starting from the lower jaw and curving almost perfectly down to her chest, creating a deep cleavage. The woman's clothes were very thin, with only a few buttons hastily fastened on the front, exposing most of her plump breasts. Two attractive protrusions could be faintly seen on her shirt, with a small water stain around them.
After staying for less than a second, without waiting for the man to answer, the woman suddenly stood up and ran into the depths of the alley. After running more than ten meters, she let out a scream that almost pierced her eardrums. In the slightly noisy night, the screams spread far away. The frenzied crowd not far away immediately erupted into shouts of excitement or joy. In less than a minute, torches illuminated the alley, and more than a dozen mobs in ragged clothes with cruelty and excitement intertwined on their faces rushed into the alley, pushing and shoving each other as they chased into the depths of the alley.
A particularly stout-looking guy waved a wooden stick with a few big iron nails in his hand, and kept pushing the people in front of him away with his arms blocking left and right, chasing and shouting: "I'll catch that guy later!" Woman, I want to fuck her first! Whoever dares to fight with me, I will smash his head!" A thin middle-aged man behind him let out a loud laugh that didn't match his size, and mockingly said: "Come on, Black Duncan! That woman slept with a demon before, who knows what she has on her body, Do you dare to stab her? Are you afraid that in the middle of doing it, your dick will rot inside her first?"
Black Duncan muttered, "That's hard to say, I'm more resistant to radiation than you are." It's just that his voice obviously began to hesitate. When he hesitated, several people immediately burst into laughter, "Black Duncan, you dare to fuck a mutated sow, why are you afraid? Could it be that the guy is already rotten? But your guy and body are still It's out of proportion!" Black Duncan roared angrily a few times, and roared: "I don't care! Whoever thinks you are a big guy will go up, anyway, I won't do it!" Suddenly someone screamed: "You don't want me alone! Anyway, half of my dick is rotten, and if I can get a thin-skinned woman, it's worth all the rotten things!"
The one who shouted was a skinny old man, with nothing but a dirty cloth wrapped around him, and nothing else. His bony body was covered with rot and sores, and the top of his head was bald with only a few pale soft hairs. He was panting all the way, and his chest made a rumbling sound, as if he was pulling a set of old-fashioned bellows. He could barely keep up with the large army, but the black thing under his waist was as hard as a short thin iron rod stood straight and abruptly on the belly.
The alley was not long, and a dozen thugs rushed out from the other end in a blink of an eye. After the flickering firelight passed, darkness ruled here again. The mob, whose whole body was full of violence and pornography, only saw the woman's white skin shaking, and didn't even notice that the shadow in the corner was a person. In fact, even if the thugs saw him, there were people like this lying around the sewage full of radiation waiting to die everywhere, no one would care at all.
Not far from the alley, the yells of the mob suddenly became louder and louder, mixed with screams of women that were so shrill that they were not human. It didn't take long for the woman's cry to whimper suddenly, as if it was blocked by something, but the laughter and screams of the mob were louder and louder, and finally completely drowned out the woman's voice. In the dark alley, the figure tightly wrapped in the black felt blanket moved suddenly, slowly raised his drooping head, and took out a swaddling baby from under the blanket, with half of his palm exposed from the edge of the rag, the immature silhouette clearly belonged to the unborn child. An adult child's skin is icy clean and moist, shining a bit dazzlingly, and it doesn't fit in with the surroundings. And in the lowered blanket, a deep blue light glowed, which were his eyes, silently watching the baby in the swaddle.
The baby neither cried nor fussed, and a pair of big blue eyes were looking back at the deep blue light. This is a girl with a straight and straight nose, and her skin is as translucent as the finest cheese. She is completely different from the large patches of black, blue, gray and green skin that babies in this era are affected by radiation. The small lips also have a rare knife-like line. All in all, she was too pretty, especially for a not-weaned baby. He blinked, and the green light shining on the baby girl's face also flickered a few times. Finally, he stretched out his hand and opened the tightly wrapped swaddle a little, so that the baby girl could hear the surrounding sounds, the roaring and panting of the mob, and the occasional women's screams. These hands are slender and white, and the slender fingers seem to be the shadows of the night, blooming quietly for a moment, and then retracted into the blanket.
The baby girl tilted her head slightly, her ears trembled, and she took in all the surrounding sounds and listened very intently. Only then did he discover that there were two pointed points at the top of her ears, which were half as long as ordinary human ears. The feast of tyranny and violence in the distance didn't last long. With a burst of disappointment, the mob gradually became quiet. Then a flame shot up into the sky, and with the billowing thick smoke drifting away, there were also bursts of unpleasant burnt smell. The fire was raging, and occasionally it would rush into the air for more than ten meters. At this time, the light of the fire could even dispel the darkness in the alley for a moment.
There is nothing in the middle of the accumulated sewage in the alley, and the child who has always been wrapped in a deep black blanket has disappeared. The blazing sun struggled to penetrate the thick gray clouds and sprinkled on the black and yellow land. Occasionally, a strong wind blows away a small piece of gray cloud, allowing the sunlight to pass down unhindered, and all kinds of strange animals on the ground fleeing in search of shelter, or simply hide in underground caves to avoid this deadly force. strong sunlight. The only one that is not afraid of the sun is a tall plant with half a meter long spikes growing on its pale stems. Whenever the sun shines, it twists its branches and stems, accepting the baptism of strong light as much as possible, and grows crazily at a speed visible to the naked eye.
Bang, bang! Bursts of loud noise broke the tranquility of the morning. An old man in his fifties knocked hard on an empty iron pipe inserted into the ground, and shouted in a hoarse voice: "Work! Get up, you bastards! Let Old Hans see what is happening today." There are a few lucky guys left!" Immediately, more than a hundred people around jumped up from the ground and ran towards this side, but when they were five meters away from the old man, these people stopped automatically, as if there was an invisible boundary there, preventing them from going any further . There are several people in the crowd who don't know the situation and are still pushing forward desperately. Several strong men around immediately began to scold: "The new guy is at the back! Why squeeze?" Before those people could react, they had already received several heavy punches in the face and fell to the ground involuntarily. The people around immediately punched and kicked without mercy. After a while, the brawny men threw the few newcomers who had been beaten unconscious out of the line, and even spat out a few mouthfuls of thick phlegm bitterly.
Old Hans had long been used to these atrocities, so he just shrugged indifferently. He wore a leather jacket that had completely tarnished on his upper body, and a coarse cloth shirt with fine dark red checks inside, a pair of jeans with some motor oil stuck on his lower body, and a pair of high-waist military boots on his feet. Compared with the vagrants around who were dressed like beggars, Old Hans was simply a king, and he was indeed as arrogant as a king. Pinned to his chest was a silver badge. The background of the badge was a distant city, with a rumbling tank in the center. In the sunlight, this badge is shining and very eye-catching. Hundreds of eyes fell on the badge from time to time, with fear, envy, and more greed.
Facing hundreds of wild wolves, Old Hans didn't feel afraid at all. He stood behind a table made of welded angle iron, took out a few cans with unclear labels from the wooden crate behind him, threw them heavily on the desk, and shouted loudly: "Old rules! One hundred kilograms of ore For five cents, the price of food is the same as yesterday, which is cheaper for you bastards, and there are even a few cans today, it depends on who can take it away! Don't squeeze, come one by one!"
These people have known the rules for a long time, lined up and walked to the iron table one by one. Old Hans was like a butcher picking animals, he glanced at their bodies, skins and complexions, and ordered casually: "You can, go over there and get something to work!" or "You can't!" The refugees who got the permission immediately trotted to the pile of tools next to them, picked up the pickaxe and a back basket, and ran towards the mine several hundred meters away, for fear that if they moved a little slower, they would be regarded as unsuitable by Old Hans. Useful people, say the dreaded "You can't". Those who already had experience walked unhurriedly, with a natural and familiar expression as if they were in their own courtyard. You must know that this work takes a whole day, and it is very unwise to waste energy on the road.
"Why can't I!" A thunderous roar drew everyone's attention back. A strong black man who was about 1.9 meters tall and looked like a mountain bear thumped the iron case hard, and roared at Old Hans. Old Hans took out a clean handkerchief, slowly wiped the drool sprayed on his face, pointed to a bowl-sized ulcer on the black man's chest, and said slowly: "You are sick! Let you go down the mine , will infect all my strong mules, who will work for me at that time?" "I can work! I want to eat, and I have three children to raise!" The black man didn't listen carefully to what Old Hans was saying, but kept roaring, beating the iron case to a bang. Old Hans frowned, and while smoothing his bushy beard, he gestured behind him. Hearing a bang, the black man's screams suddenly stopped, and he looked at the sudden big hole in his chest in disbelief, his throat made a hoo hoo, but he couldn't speak. Behind Old Hans, a bald-headed man pulled the trigger of the double-barreled shotgun in his hand again, and there was another loud bang. Hundreds of grains of iron sand blasted into the black man's chest, doubling the size of his wound, and completely pierced through it. His broad chest. The burly man was wearing a wrinkled black suit with several holes, obviously it was an antique from some unknown years ago. Behind Old Hans, there were three such strong men standing.
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After wiping his face, Old Hans said to the air in front of the iron table: "Also, nigger, your saliva stinks!" Judging by the tone of his speech, it seemed that the black man was still standing in front of the table. There are still more than a hundred refugees who have not entered the mine, and their eyes are less greedy and more fearful. Several people came over, dragged the black man's body away, and threw it a few hundred meters away. It won't be long before the rotting wolves and vultures, smelling the blood, will eat up his body, not even a single bone will be left.
The line before the iron case shortened rapidly, and before dawn, most of the refugees had already descended into the mine, and those who were not selected walked towards the town to see if they could try their luck there. "There are more and more sick mules, and this month's quota is a bit too much..." Old Hans muttered, standing up, straightening his sore back. He had only stretched halfway when his movements suddenly stopped, when his movements suddenly stopped, and then he supported the iron table with both hands, leaned forward, and looked at the child in front of him who was just a head taller than the iron table.
The child was wrapped in a blanket that was so dirty that the original color could not be seen. As long as the exposed parts of the face and hands were exposed outside, they were tightly wrapped with cloth strips. Only one left eye was exposed, looking peacefully with Hans. The child looked like he was only eight or nine years old, and he didn't know if he was a boy or a girl. Originally, Old Hans would never waste a little effort on such obviously unqualified refugees. He did not open a charity organization. Maybe it was the blood he saw just now that made his heart a little soft, or maybe he was concerned about the shortage of labor this month. Maybe it was the child's eyes, anyway, he hesitated for a moment, and asked, "You want a job too?" The child nodded. "Okay! Are you a boy or a girl?" Old Hans said. "Male." The child finally spoke. Compared with children of the same age, his voice is slightly deep, but it has an indescribable magnetic taste.
"That's great, boy. Go get the tools over there. Like everyone else, dig out a hundred kilograms of ore and you'll get five cents. That's the biggest treat for you. If you dress like this, you're not sick, are you? Alright, you don't have to worry, at least you don't have a bad smell. Old Hans had a very sharp nose. Go to work, finish it early, fill your stomach early, and when you can't move, go find the lame Peter. He will tell you how much money you have earned and how much food you can exchange."
Amidst the chatter of Old Hans, the boy carried an iron pick that was faster than him, picked up the basket that was almost touching the ground, and slowly disappeared into the depths of the mine. Until his figure disappeared, Old Hans shook his head. He suddenly turned his head and asked the strong man in a black suit, who was closely following him, "Am I particularly verbose today?"
In front of this somewhat neurotic old man, the sturdy black suit, which looked like a cow, involuntarily took a step back and shook his head quickly, forcefully, and resolutely. Old Hans chuckled twice and said, "You're very smart, so I made you the head of the guard. But you must always remember that in this area, I'm the only official agent of the company. I can let you kill those stray dogs like you want, and I can also make you a dog tomorrow. Older people are always a bit eccentric. You just need to do your job well, do you understand?"
"Understood, Mr. Hans."
"You should call me Your Excellency Hans."
"Understood, Your Excellency Hans."
Old Hans hummed a tune he had learned from somewhere and walked into a hut made of iron nails. Even in a town a few kilometers away, this iron shack, which is not very breathable and rainy, can be considered a luxury mansion. Dusk soon arrived, and the hungry wolves, who had slept for a day, emitted long howls and began to wander around like ghosts, searching for opportunities to fill their stomachs.
With a creaking sound, Old Hans pushed open the iron door of the hut and walked out, squinting at the sinking sunset. After taking a nap, he felt much refreshed. The nearby mining cave was already empty, and the workers had already come out and received their rations, returning to their homes. When the sun falls on the horizon, the intricate tunnels are filled with ferocious ground squirrels over a meter long. Their powerful upper and lower jaws, sharp and sturdy front teeth can easily bite through two centimeter thick iron bars, and the sturdy rocks are not worth mentioning in front of them. Fortunately, as long as the sun rises, the ferocious hamsters will burrow deep underground and fall into deep sleep, so miners have at least half a day to dig for minerals. Almost as the sun completely sank, a small figure appeared at the entrance of the mine. The boy stumbled out carrying a basket of ore almost as high as himself.
Old Hans's eyelids twitched a few times, and he remained silent as he watched the thin child drag the ore on his back over the scale, then pour it onto a small mountain-like pile of ore, and slowly walked over with a note written by the foreman. The cloth wrapped around the boy's body had been stained with large pieces of red yellow and mixed blue by mineral powder.
Watching the boy come over, Old Hans walked around to the back of the house. There, leaning against the tin house, stood a big shed. Peter, who was half-legged, struggled to move his body, weighing over a hundred kilograms, and exclaimed, "Kid, come here!" The boy walked under the shed and handed over a note of paper. The lame Peter glanced at him and couldn't help whistling, saying, "You've done as much as many adults. Here's the list, let's see what you want to change. Can you read? Oh, it's amazing! I only recognize half of the words on this list. Hey, don't look over there, you can't afford to change those things now! Look down from here."
Peter used his thick fingers to stroke the middle of the long list, and the boy looked up at it. His gaze remained on the "drinking water" column and continued to look up until his gaze was blocked by Peter's thick fingers. "That's it," the boy pointed at the list with his fingers wrapped in cloth strips. Peter immediately exclaimed, "Aha! Third-level drinking water! Boy, you must be a nobleman. I heard that noblemen's bodies are so tender that they can only drink pure water, which is the kind of water with no impurities and no radiation."
"That's it," the boy pointed to the list, his voice so flat that it didn't fluctuate at all, making people wonder if it could be an artificially synthesized sound. Peter shrugged and pulled out a can of beverage from a pile of wooden boxes behind him, which could not be seen from the same era, and threw it to the boy. "Here! Third-level drinking water, luxurious boy!" The boy carefully tucked the beverage can into the blanket and turned to leave. The lame Peter scratched his head, took the moldy bread that was the size of his fist and as hard as a mineral, and threw it to the boy. "Boy, mining is hard work, not eating. Take this, remember, you owe the lame Peter five cents, and tomorrow you will deduct it from your wages." The boy took the bread, carefully tucked it into the blanket, and then made a deep bow to the lame Peter before walking towards the darkness.
In the darkness-shrouded wilderness, dozens of pairs of wolf-like eyes fixed on the boy, whispering incessantly. "That kid seems to have done quite a bit today. Why don't we go over and see what he changed? Maybe it's half a loaf of bread." "I bet he must have a big piece of grilled ferocious rat meat in his arms." A lazy but fierce voice next to him took over the conversation and said, "Hey! There are a few new rookies over there. Don't you know the rules of Old Hans? In his territory, no one can snatch what he buys." The previous voice was clearly unconvinced: "Old Hans? What can he handle? I can beat ten such old men." The lazy person laughed and cursed, "Just you? It's not worth licking Old Hans' buttocks." The person who was called a rookie was still unconvinced and was about to argue. Who knew that the other party suddenly lost patience and whistled, shouting, "Boys, cut up this troublemaker and feed it to the rotten wolf!" More than ten black shadows rose up and gathered around.
After a brief scream, the wilderness returned to tranquility. People need to take time to rest so that they can carry an extra basket of ore out tomorrow. In the barn, lame Peter no longer saw the boy's figure. He grabbed his head, which had only a few hairs left and muttered, "Where is this boy going? If he gets eaten by a rotten wolf, my five cents will be ruined. Hey, old Hans, do you think my money won't be ruined?" The old Hans, who had been leaning against the shed pillar, spread out his hand, and said, "God knows." Lame Peter struggled to stand up, started tidying up the food and record list on the console. His remaining thighs were sturdy and strong enough to support over a hundred kilograms of body and jump around in the barn without using crutches. He picked up the last piece of paper handed over by the boy and was about to throw it away. Suddenly, he remembered something and looked at it again. He said to himself, "I don't know what he wants from third-grade drinking water. The radiation in the mine is much stronger than the sewage outside the town, and it's not something that can be solved by drinking dry and clean water."
Old Hans took the note from Peter's hand, glanced at the numbers on it, then kneaded it into a ball and casually threw it into the fire pit outside the barn. Old Hans coughed a few times, spat out thick phlegm, and said, "Peter, turn around and tell Mad Dog Mad that from tomorrow onwards, the child's portion will be reduced by ten kilograms per basket. If he can work here for a full month, give him the full portion." Peter said, "This seems a bit out of line." "He's raising a child." Old Hans lit a cigarette with only half left, and his voice was a bit dull.
Peter looked up in surprise and said, "What? How old is he? How could he have to raise a child? Oh my goodness! I thought everyone had to mutate. But how do you know that?" Old Hans calmly said, "Because I've also raised children." Peter was surprised and said, "You've never talked about these things before. How old is he? He should be twenty years old, God bless him, he shouldn't be as ugly as you." Old Hans smiled," At that time, I was very poor and couldn't find enough clean water and food. When he was five years old, he mutated and didn't make it through." Peter didn't know what to say for a moment before saying, "Old man, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. You know... Oh, I've never met a woman in my life who can give birth, so I haven't had the chance to have a child."
Old Hans took a heavy sip of his cigarette and looked at the light green night sky outside the barn, saying, "Dude, you never had to tell me these things. If it weren't for you, I would have become the food of a rotten wolf long ago, and the position of the company agent wouldn't be my turn to sit." Peter picked up a nearly fifty-kilogram supply box, supported it on one leg, jumped up more than a meter high, gently placed it on the highest shelf, and scratched his head. He said, "I didn't mean to save you. You know I'm a master in the fighting realm, and my ability to strengthen defense was already level two at that time. That Wolf King couldn't bite me dead anyway. But you're different. A soft egg like you in the magic realm can tear half of your butt off with just one bite!"
Old Hans handed Peter a small piece of cigarette in his hand and patted his shoulder, "Dude, go to bed earlier. It's so late, there won't be any women coming here." Peter took a hard puff of smoke and held it in his lungs until he couldn't help it anymore before spitting it out. Old Hans had already returned to the iron house, only to hear the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground, indicating that he had already thrown himself onto the bed. Lame Peter pulled out a green lacquered iron box from under the console and carefully took out a magazine that was so rotten that it could fall apart at any time. With the light of the campfire, he flipped page by page, and his breathing gradually became heavy. The cover of the magazine suddenly fell off and fell to the ground. The hot and seductive woman on the cover has become somewhat blurred due to her age, but the eye-catching "PLAYBOY" on the cover can still be seen. Under the cover, a small line indicates the publication date of this magazine: February 1982.
No matter how many new refugees come to the wilderness or how inexplicably the original refugees disappear, the sun always rises as usual. The boy, as he did yesterday, happened to arrive when everyone got out of the mining tunnel. At the moment when the sun was completely submerged, he dug out as much ore and exchanged the same items as yesterday. The only difference is that his debt to lame Peter changed from five cents to ten cents. A month later, perhaps there was enough food to eat, or perhaps the boy's strength improved, earning more money every day than before, so his debt to lame Peter decreased day by day. Life in the wilderness is monotonous and repetitive, and a year passes like this. In this era, being able to live monotonically and repeatedly is already a rare happiness. What else can one expect without having to compete with the rotten wolf for food or drinking water with less intense radiation? As for boredom, it is too luxurious a topic, only occasionally thought about by madmen.
At first, a newcomer among the refugees wanted to suggest an idea to the boy, but his cloth, wrapped all over his body, scared them. In this era, there are at least ten highly contagious and incurable diseases, all of which have a common characteristic of decay. Many people secretly speculate about what has already rotted under those strips of cloth and bet on how many more days he can live. However, after the deadline set by the boldest gambler had passed, four brave and ignorant rookies followed the boy away in the dark. Three people never reappeared, and the one who returned lost track of the boy's whereabouts. The next morning, the refugees discovered that the man was hanging high from a wooden pole outside Old Hans' house. The bodyguard in a black suit fired ten rounds at him with a double-barreled shotgun but still couldn't silence him. In terms of how to torture people, black suits clearly have a talent.
From then on, the old birds among the refugees knew never to follow the boy's advice. Three years have passed, and the amount of ore that the boy dug up has already quadrupled, but the amount of food needed to be exchanged has also increased, so he has never saved up. The wrinkles on Old Hans' face deepened a bit, and the page count of the 83-year edition of Playboy, which was kept by lame Peter, also increased from fifteen pages to eleven. In the fifth year, the amount of ore that could be excavated from the mine decreased, and the simple happiness in the wilderness came to an end. One evening, when he once again received food and water from lame Peter, Old Hans stopped him. The boy from the beginning, the boy from now on, followed Old Hans into the iron house. The room was filled with debris, but there was a bed inside, a real bed with bedding and pillows. Such a bed is enough to distinguish Old Hans from everyone. The boy didn't take a second look at the bed but kept staring at a hand-drawn map hanging on the wall. The map was roughly drawn, with large gaps still left on it, and some places were marked with prominent danger words in red pen.
"We're here," Old Hans pointed to the map, then pointed west until he stopped at the circle marked with the scarlet danger. "Continue: This place is the nest of fire ants. These one-meter-long creatures are very difficult to deal with. They don't really breathe fire, but you also need to be extra careful about the acid they emit, which is even worse than fire. The most annoying thing is that these guys always come out in groups. However, they also have good things on their bodies. Their front claws are harder than steel, but their weight is half lighter, so they can be sold in many places. The price is quite good because few people dare to hunt the Spitfire Ant. There is a small piece of meat in the middle of their hind legs that has no radiation or toxins, but the portion size is really too small."
The young man looked at the map quietly, as if he wanted to engrave every stroke on it in his heart. The only exposed eye had a deep blue color, and there were faint gray lines around the pupils, crystal clear, like the finest jade. In all these years, Old Hans realized that it was the first time he had seen a young man's eyes clearly. Old Hans cleared his throat and pointed to the southern end of the Spitfire Ant Nest, where there was only a W, not knowing what it represented. "There is a cave here with a dirty water pool where there is a mutated large leech. If you feed it with your own blood, it will expel excess water from its body. This water only contains slight radiation, not much, barely enough for a five-year-old child. The nest of the fire ant is about a hundred kilometers away from here, and you may have to walk for a few days. The mine will close tomorrow, and you don't need to come over." Old Hans waved his hand, and the young man quietly left the iron house. Before leaving, the young man looked at Old Hans and gently said thank you. The young man's voice was gentle as the wind and had a mysterious magnetism. If placed in previous eras, there may be the potential to become a superstar.