Mystery: Two or three things between me and Tianzun God

Chapter 35 Mixed race

Unlike the well-trained plantation slaves in East Balam, the war-torn people in West Balam are more vicious.

After all, most of their parents, brothers, relatives, and friends had died due to the conflict of colonial interests between Loen and Feysac.

Of course, in this small town occupied by the Balam Restoration Association, the Rose School is not a very glorious force for them. Together with Roen and Feysac, they are spurned by the residents here.

"Catch him, don't let him escape!"

Someone in the crowd shouted loudly, but no one moved or took any corresponding action.

Maybe he was afraid of the white skin and golden hair that represented the devil, or maybe he was shocked by Ron's calm and unflustered attitude.

For a moment, everyone only dared to stand where they were. No one dared to step forward and catch the Loen man who had broken into their territory.

This is a fear coming from the subconscious, even though Ron looks like a child of about ten years old at this time.

Just when more and more pedestrians were crowding around, and a few brown-skinned West Balam people were about to lose their control, a commotion suddenly broke out among them.

Screams and shouts came one after another, and a young man with blond rough hair and green eyes squeezed out of the crowd.

He bumped left and right, knocking the surrounding people into an unstable state and staggering to one side. The middle-aged man who shouted loudly and took the lead was also knocked to the ground by the young man. Apparently, he was knocked to the ground. A bit of a personal vendetta.

The shaggy-haired boy was like a nimble rabbit, and he came to Ron in just one breath.

Without giving Ron time to wonder, he stretched out his rough palms, dragged Ron and ran outside the encirclement that had not yet been closed.

As he ran, he scattered the white powder in his pocket. The white powder fluttered in the wind, obscuring the heads and faces of the Bailang natives who had recovered and were getting up to catch up.

Although this method is disgraceful, it is very effective. The sight of the aborigines with brown and yellow skin was immediately blocked, creating a large distance between the two sides.

The sound of footsteps echoed throughout the street, but as the shaggy-haired boy dodged, the sound immediately disappeared.

He took advantage of his size and led Ron into a narrow passage. After leading to another spacious street, the young man took a long breath and looked at Ron who was following behind him.

"Are you from Loen?"

The shaggy-haired boy asked Ron behind him in Loen language with irregular pronunciation. There was a little curiosity and unconcealed yearning in his eyes.

"Yes."

Ron's pronunciation was pure Loen language, which was an answer to the blue-eyed boy who suddenly appeared and saved the lives of the Bailang natives.

The green-eyed boy had an expression of surprise on his face when he heard Ron's answer. He couldn't wait to look at Ron carefully, as if he wanted to see something different in him.

"Are you from Loen too?"

Ron saw the reaction of the young man in front of him was a little strange. After all, this young man had blond hair, green eyes, and his facial features were more three-dimensional, not as soft as the people from West Balang.

And his skin is also a yellowish wheat color. Although it is not as fair as most of the citizens of Loen, it is not as brown as the Bailang people.

It was obvious that this was a hybrid of Loen and Balam.

"I, I'm not, my father is a pure Loen!"

The green-eyed boy hesitantly denied Ron's question in broken Loen dialect, but he was afraid that the Loen gentleman in front of him would look down on him, so he added the second half of the sentence very proudly.

"Those guys always look down on people like us. After all, we look different from them!" "By the way, my name is Roy Moore. This is the name my mother gave me. Moore is my father's surname. !”

Like most Loen gentlemen, Roy Moore first spoke humorously and complained to Ron in Tutanese about the Bailang aborigines who had just been chasing them. Then he stretched out his palm and used the magic weapon invented by Emperor Roselle. handshake.

"My name is Ron Sotos."

Ron smiled and replied in Tutanese, then stretched out his hand to shake Roy Moore's hand.

Ron's behavior was like giving the blond boy some kind of stimulant. His face with some freckles was slightly red, and there was a little happiness in his eyebrows. He seemed to be happy that the etiquette he cared about was finally recognized by others. recognized.

"Quick, they seem to be here!"

"Hurry and call the general's guards, a spy from Loen has sneaked in!"

The sound of messy footsteps and the shouts of the aborigines came from the end of the street, causing Roy Moore's excitement to disappear instantly.

He squatted down slightly and pressed his body against the wall, looking left and right, as if to confirm the current situation.

"Shh, keep your voice down. This is not the place to talk. Follow me."

He made a shushing gesture to Ron, took his hand, and quietly walked around the city residents who were looking for them.

He pulled Ron around skillfully, choosing uninhabited paths or remote alleys. After a short walk, they arrived at the outermost part of the town.

Looking out from here is a deserted place, with the only building being an abandoned wooden warehouse.

The warehouse is not big and is very dilapidated. Its damaged walls are still blocked by mismatched wooden boards.

However, seeing this damaged warehouse, Roy Moore showed a reassuring smile, as if this warehouse, which would be blown apart as long as the wind was stronger, was his biggest support.

"Come on, they won't find it here!"

Roy Moore smiled and did not dare to greet Ron loudly.

The interior of the warehouse is neatly organized, with all kinds of old but clean living utensils arranged one by one on the shelves.

And those neat, often-kept beds show that this is not a gathering place for homeless people, but a warm home where one can feel at peace.

"You don't seem to be the only one here?"

Ron looked at several beds separated by wooden boards.

"Well, those are my friends, they are just like me..."

Roy Moore hesitated to speak and hesitated for a long time before saying where they were.

But Ron easily understood what he meant. After all, the young man in front of him valued these things so much. Even Ron, who had only been in contact with him for a few minutes, could see it.

"Hey, Ron, can I call you that?"

"Why are you here? The area near Putuo City is not the territory of the Loen people!"

Roy Moore picked up the water in a Guadal shell and placed it in front of Ron, just like the middle class people in Loen Kingdom, serving coffee or black tea to guests who came to their homes.

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(End of this chapter)