Scop Scopper Scoppest with Demon Eye King

Episode Six: Mockingjay Shell

The building, which is somewhat overwhelming as a slum one, nevertheless did not leak into the example of a slum building and was finished with a coarse job.

The rattling floor was difficult to walk on and a gap breeze was blowing in from somewhere on the wall with terrible weathering.

It was obvious that it had not been managed, and that the walls and doors had been left unscrupulously broken, such as one room in the basement.

- A mushroom shell?

After such a search in the building, the heir who came out muttered.

"No, but we did get into this. Did we? I'm not lying! Somehow I was curious, and I just put it on, so I'm only checking to make sure I got in, but I definitely got in here!

One, the Gorotsky man, who had been taken for directions, complained desperately.

The answer to what was so desperate was to the old man standing next to the man.

"I guess that means they've already moved."

To Fried's sober words, the man nods cocklessly. So it is an appeal that I am not lying. You lied. If you were judged, you might get your neck snapped by Fried at that moment, so it was also natural for a man to be desperate.

While the exterior of the building was abandoned, there was no doubt that there was not so much dust in the interior and there were people in and out. Still no one, which means it was a step too late, that would be the case.

"Don't you know who owns this building or something?

heir asks,

"I'm talking about slums, so I'll be away from managing my guild..."

Fried shifts his gaze to the man beside him as he answers.

"Oh, I don't know either. Basically, these residents just use their favorite buildings on their own, and they also take them or take them away from them and replace them so intensely..."

Chip, his heir pounded his tongue.

A brilliant empty gesture if you think you've got a clue. They sent me back to the shake.

"Oh, um... oh, I'm done too...? I really don't know anything anymore."

Gorotsky's man asked in horror as he glanced at Fried's complexion.

When Fried looks at such a man with a sharp gaze, the man leaks a "hiss" and a scream.

"But I really don't know anything anymore..."

The man's eyes are swimming restlessly, but that's out of fear of Fried, and he won't be lying about it otherwise.

When Fried took something out of his pocket, he played it with his finger, kicking it.

The man receives reflexively with the unbroken hand something that danced into the universe with chirali.

When I opened my hand, it was gold.

"You may leave today, but come visit me in three days"

In that word, the joy of finally being liberated on the man's face and the agony of yet to be liberated floats at the same time.

With a complicated look on his face, the man shittily left, still wanting to get away from Fried's side as soon as possible.

"... call me in three days. What are we gonna do?

"Just because I wanted a disposable handkerchief"

Freed to say it all the time. In short, it means scouting.

If you're doing that, or I think so, but it's a waste of time to complain, so the heir began to explore the perimeter of the building silently.

And I immediately caught my eye on the ground in front of the building.

"This is..."

"Right. Still brand new. Maybe he traveled by carriage."

Next to Fried, who crouched in and checked as he touched the soil on the ground, as his heir ran his gaze further around him, he caught sight of a figure at the roots of a tree that was native nearby.

He was a floater who accumulated bossy hair and mustaches and wrapped a cloth like a blush.

The vagabonds themselves are rarely seen there in the slums, but the position where the man is sitting is exquisite. From there, you can see all the way in and out of this building.

The heir walks over to the vagrant.

"Hey, you. Didn't you see those guys in and out of this building?

…………

The vagabond responded to the voice of his heir and only glanced at him, but there was no further response, and he answered nothing.

Freed came there and threw silver coins in front of the vagabonds.

"............... five men. Four kids. All untagged. I was here a while ago."

When he picked up the silver coin, the floater replied.

But the number he said is quite divergent from the number of four men and one child. Even assuming you consider the number of men an error, "four kids" is too far off for anything.

Floaters and Gorotsky, if there were no lies in both words, there would have been a new rendezvous within this building between one man and three children.

"Was there a sheep tribe among the children?

When his heir asked, the floater silenced again, staring at Fried.

When Fried threw the silver coin again, the floater picked it up and laughed niggardly.

"There he is, alone. She had long hair, maybe a woman."

To the words, his heir and Fried nodded face to face.

"Do you know where those guys went?

"I don't know where he went, but he stuffed the kids in a pretty good carriage and left. Maybe the kid's a dark slave."

Dark Slave.

The moment I heard the word, Fried's eyes opened slightly.

Meanwhile, his successor frowns at unfamiliar words.

"... Dark Slave?

"What do you not know? Dark slaves are slaves who have not followed normal procedures. Well, you're mostly the guy who's been grabbed and forced into slavery. Those kids probably do, too."

"... are you sure?

"So maybe it's on. But can you think of any untagged kids who are taking you around in a big carriage like this, other than a dark slave?

After a while of silence, Fried suddenly returned the quickness and just walked out that he was no longer needed here.

A surprised heir rushes after him.

"Hey -"

To his heir who tried to complain, Fried said the other way around.

"I know where Lourier is."

"- What?"

The heir stops inadvertently for words he doesn't anticipate.

Not dealing with such a successor, Fried walks first, seeping a slightly grumpy and aggressive color into his footsteps.

"Totally. I don't know what he's thinking."

The words that Fried, walking ahead, whined only in his mouth, melted in the wind and never reached the ears of his heirs.

Wilderness further north through the city north along the Sacred Road from the Demon Mine City of Berg.

In the rocky area, which serves as a street connecting the small village to the city, there was an enormous group of people.

It is a mixed group of men and women who have thoughtfully consolidated their armaments, even swords, spears, axes and bows.

A total of thirty.

While dressed in piecemeal gear, I guess the reason they look like a sort of sophisticated bunch is because each and every one of them is a first-rate gathering of adventurers.

Indeed, as many as five groups of adventurers had partied to seal off this tiny street.

- Hey, hey, hey.

Next to a man with mixed gray hair, leader of a group, a man with a face still unceasing youth, said as he stared at the end of the street.

The leader's man's name is Korev. The name of the still young man is Begranto. Together, they are B-rank adventurers. The two ages are apart, but there was an air of confidence that rose equally in the expressions of the two did not make them feel the difference in years.

"That's..."

One figure walked from the end of the street.

It was a woman.

Each group of adventurers puts their hands on a weapon and engages in a state of battle.

If we put such a group in front of us, it wouldn't be strange for a normal person to stand up and lose their hips, but the woman who walked over stopped flat in front of them.

"You're one of the Three Ferocious Reds - [Tenryu's beloved son], right?

The leader's man asks. The reason I asked is not to confirm, but to gauge the time between fights and breathing.

Without bothering to ask, the adventurers see the woman's name window - the 'bright red name' noted there.

The woman does not answer.

But I don't need you to answer me.

The adventurers were simultaneously attacked by women to fulfill their own mission.

The woman changed her expression for the first time under the gaze of the adventurers who were going to kill her.

My eyebrow roots lean over and my eyes lift up.

That was an unmistakable look of anger.

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