A common tavern that connects all fantasy worlds

His limbs, abdomen and back had a lot of penetrating wounds from that strange projectile weapon, and there were still many metal arrowheads left in his body.Although most of these "arrowheads" were blocked from the really important organs by his strong muscle tissue, the massive bleeding still caused a temporary loss of consciousness.

I'm afraid this is the first time this young man has suffered such a serious injury.

Judging from the age of this savage, it should be the first time he left the highlands and came to the south to venture. Unexpectedly, he encountered such a serious crisis at the beginning.

Cassia carefully took out the healing potion from her bag... I only hope that this thing can still work in this world, and not lose its effect like a magic arrow.

But if you don't think about it, the healing potion is not a magical creation, but a pure "stimulator".

The people in Sanctuary themselves have relatively strong resilience, which may be one of the reasons why they can survive in such a miserable world until now.This red potion will activate the body's own resilience, allowing new blood and new tissues to quickly fill the wound or lesion, thereby achieving a therapeutic effect.

Of course, in order to recover later, Cassia must immediately remove all the warheads in the barbarian's body, otherwise the rapid recovery process will leave these metals in the body forever-unless the newly healed wound is dug out, to remove the foreign body.

Of course not.

And because the two people were not familiar with the terrain, they circled the ground several times firmly, which wasted too much time, causing the barbarian Dosten to lose a lot of blood and his breathing had become weak, so he had to be treated immediately.

Time is running out. Although this alley is dark, it may not be completely safe. We must act as soon as possible.

As a mercenary with far more combat experience than this young barbarian, the Amazons are very familiar with this kind of thing.

She first tied the belt buckle on her body that was used to hang weapons around the wound to stop the bleeding, then carefully cleaned her knife with the spirits that the barbarian carried, and in the dim light of the "illumination" amulet He removed the bullets from his body one by one; poured three quarters of the healing potion into his mouth, and poured the remaining quarter directly on the wound for external use.

Cassia breathed a sigh of relief after using the natural dexterous hands of the Amazons and the "thread that can be digested by the human body" researched by Rathma to complete the final suture.

This thing is usually used by those grumbling white-haired men to sew up corpses. Sometimes some corpses are too mutilated and cannot contribute combat value as zombies or skeletons. Rathma believers will use them from The corpses of different people were sewn together, and then awakened in a special way.

The guys called it a "stitched corpse"; it's a name that fits their image, rigid and counterintuitive, with no originality or sense of humor.

Needless to say, this kind of "desecration of corpses" was unanimously disgusted by everyone, and the Rasma sect, which had always lived in isolation, rarely appeared in front of the public.

However, the thread they invented to sew the human body was very popular, especially among the mercenaries who licked their blood.

In many cases, just one more step of "stitching" can make many guys who are already doomed to die regain their lives from the hands of death.

Of course, Cassia the Amazon is no exception. She has specially learned wound treatment and suturing. She originally only used it on herself to increase her chances of survival. Unexpectedly, she was able to save the life of her companion today.

After taking the healing potion, the wound stopped bleeding, and the young man's fate was saved. He didn't die inexplicably during a certain mission like many senior mercenaries.

And this is another world... For a barbarian who attaches great importance to his tribe and hometown, dying in another world, unable to return his body and soul is really the greatest tragedy and torture.

After finally treating the wound, Cassia frowned and looked at the surrounding environment where the sewage was flowing, and decided to find an opportunity to transfer the big man... Barbarians rarely get sick, but it doesn't mean that it is completely impossible to get infected. In particular, this is not a place of sanctuary. No one dares to guarantee whether there are any pathogenic factors that have never been seen in the environment.

Moreover, staying in the alley forever may not be able to avoid the searches of those men in black, the only way is to leave as soon as possible.

Just as she was thinking, she heard the footsteps of two people outside the alley getting closer and closer, talking while walking.

"Fuck you, be smart, didn't you hear the gunshots, and you're still leaning over there."

"I want to see if there is anything I can pick up...Damn it, that watch just now should be worth a lot of money."

Cassia poked her head out from behind the corner, and saw two thin black men in hooded sweaters walking towards this side, smoking and exhaling smoke.

They lowered their heads and shook their shoulders, completely oblivious to the fact that there was someone hiding in the darkness behind the corner.

Cassia turned her eyes, quickly took off her weapon and put it in the arms of the unconscious barbarian Dosten, then jumped to the other side of the alley, turned around the corner as if she had just walked in, and went up to the two black men .

"Hello." One of the black men looked up, his eyes straightened immediately, and he turned his head and bumped his partner's shoulder.

Another black man's eyes lit up when he raised his head... Black Americans have lived on another continent for hundreds of years, and of course they have developed a big difference in aesthetics from the blacks back home in Africa; especially, a long-standing race The obscene delusion of the enslavement of another race was given real political significance and noble motives.

To put it simply, yes, they like blond whites too, if only because of the vindictiveness caused by the history of oppression and discrimination.

Cassia's appearance and figure, needless to say, are first-class in any world.And because her figure was much taller than the average female in this world, and she wore mercenary-style leather armor with her belly button and thighs exposed, she looked like a professional fashion model.

What fashion?Uh... presumably medieval fashion?

The two black men looked at each other, drew a switchblade from their waists, and surrounded Cassia.

"Yo, yo, beauty, it's so late, why are you alone in this kind of place? This street is very dangerous at night."

They said so, but when the woman was blocked by the wall, they realized that there was no panic or panic in her eyes, but a strong disdain.

Since they didn't hold that kind of black, strange-shaped projectile weapons in their hands, in Cassia's view, no matter how fierce their expressions were, they were just civilians.

At best, he can be regarded as a commoner on the street, and belongs to the same level as a drunk in a tavern.

It was too late to say that, after being close enough, before the two black men could react, Cassia kicked them both in the stomach, causing the switchblades in their hands to fall to the ground. The whole person knelt there and began to groan.

"Ouch, shit, bitches..."

The two blacks were still yelling and cursing, but the Amazons didn't care.

She picked up the switchblade that fell on the ground, and made a few gestures next to the man's chin and carotid artery, and the young man raised her hand in fright.

Yes, these two black people are about fifteen or sixteen years old, and their faces are still childish, so she didn't kill her just now... In the eyes of the Amazons, bullying children is really not an honor .

Cassia played with the switchblade casually, scraped around the black boy's neck a few times, and frightened him a few times by pretending to poke it into the artery; after researching and understanding how to use it, she felt that the thing was not bad, so she put it away After reaching his pocket, he turned his head and slapped another boy who just got up on the face, and then said:

"Maybe you have some other misunderstandings, but it doesn't matter, I will be happy to teach you slowly...how to respect an Amazonian."

"Ma'am, big sister, we are convinced, we can do whatever you say, there is absolutely no misunderstanding between us."

The black boy was still sensible, and immediately expressed his opinion, and he almost kowtowed a few times immediately.Of course, they may not know how to kowtow.

Cassia didn't quite believe it, and said with a sneer, "Really? I need to explain to you that I haven't contributed [-]% of my efforts just now. If you lie to me, this is what will happen to you..."

She reached out and punched the trash can beside her, hammering the poor metal bucket into the wall, splashing the two black people with crumbs of cement.

"Oh, Falk! No, absolutely no lie, what the hell did you grow up on?"

The two blacks quickly agreed.

"It's none of your business! Come with me now, take my friend away, and find a safe and clean place..."

The two strong black guys climbed up tremblingly, followed what she said, and came behind the wall. Looking at Dosten's hill-like body, his whole face collapsed.

But at this time, Cassia, who had taken back the weapon, had already stared: "It's time to start, you don't want me to urge you."

"Damn unlucky." The black boys cursed inwardly, so they had to take the arms of this majestic bald man with all their strength, and together they lifted him from the ground and walked across the alley into the city. Walk to less prosperous places.

112th Street is not considered a wealthy area, and the place two streets away is even poorer... It can be seen from the clutter of the street.

Trash, homeless tents, homeless people, you name it.

The biggest feature here is that there are groups of black people wandering in the streets, basically wearing the same clothes: this or that hooded sweater, this color or that color head scarf, the edge of the underwear or the whole pair of underwear or the whole leg low-rise pants.

The two black brothers didn't want to take Cassia to some strange place, and they didn't dare.It's just that the two of them were actually going to go home through this alley just now, and their home is in this block.

After walking for a long time with Dosten on their shoulders, the two finally knocked on the door of the house when their waist was about to break.

This place perfectly meets Cassia's requirements... After all, it is still a house, and it is still very clean; not only the police, but even everyone will not come...

"Open the door, Grandma, I'm Stan!"

Chapter 13 Transformation

Freelance photographer Leon clutched his head, weakly getting up from the ground.

He finally remembered what happened before, and hurriedly touched his ankle.

Strangely, there were no wounds, not even scars... He was just left there naked, with everything he had on his body when he got in the car.

He didn't suspect that it was a dream or something else, a very simple reason - the wound on the ankle was gone, but the wound on the chest was still there.

It was the mark carved with a knife by the meat hammer killer. It roughly looks like an inverted triangle, but there are several antenna-like lines growing out of each side.

This wound has not healed, but it is not bleeding all the time, but maintains a state between the two, only a drop of blood oozes out every few seconds, and there is no pain at all... If If it weren't for using your fingers to open the flesh on both sides, it would almost look like it was painted with blood-red paint.

This series of events had completely stunned him, but he still put on the clothes around him tremblingly, and frantically rummaged through the bag.

No camera, no cell phone, not even cash.

He looked up again at his surroundings and realized that he was at the door of his own apartment.

Through the thin anti-theft door with no sound insulation effect, he can still hear who his girlfriend is talking on the phone with.

"Yes, Leon, he hasn't come back. ... I've called him a lot all night! Just to ask if he's at your place..."

The photographer outside the door looked back to the other end of the corridor, and sure enough, the morning sun had shone through the narrow window.

It was already the next morning, and he hadn't come home all night.

Looking at the mobile phone in his hand that had long been out of battery, he licked his dry lips and knocked on the door.

My girlfriend Maya should have dropped the phone immediately, and Leon, who was standing outside the door, didn't hear what she said, but only heard the sound of "嗵嗵嗵" and footsteps on the floor.

After only a moment, the girlfriend opened the door, and seeing Leon with a haggard face, she covered her mouth in fright.

"My God, Leon, where have you been?"

"I... I'm fine, my phone is out of battery, I just went to cooperate with the police officer to do some investigations."

Leon spoke incoherently and easily exposed lies, bypassed his girlfriend standing at the door, rushed into the bathroom, and bolted the door.

Girlfriend Maya knocked on the door outside half worried and half wronged, shouting: "Leon, you can't do this to me. We are a couple and live together. If there is anything you want to let me know, you can't just do it like this." You didn't come back all night and you still slammed the door on my face! Did I do something that dissatisfied you? Leon!"

The photographer in the restroom turned a deaf ear to his girlfriend's questioning, and just recalled the words of the black female police officer: "Don't try to resist."

Against what?Why did that man let himself alone?What does this symbol on the chest mean?

Many questions echoed in his mind, of course the most important question was, where did the two fighters from other worlds go and how they are now.

His originally chaotic mind suddenly woke up, realizing that he had killed those two people who came to help.

But at this moment, he has absolutely no other choice... He is just a photographer, and even when encountering a robbery in progress, his first reaction is to confirm the position of the surveillance camera.

Wait... no, that doesn't seem to be the case either?

The photographer's mind was finally sober for a while.

Maybe he has been acting as a loser in his whole life so far, maybe he has been cowardly, confused and inferior, but at least he knows how to take his own responsibility.

Don't try to resist?I fucking want to resist today!

He put on his clothes, washed his face with cold water from the tap, and went out to hug his girlfriend who was about to collapse.

"Sorry, Maya, something happened to me... nothing to do with Susan and her demands on me, it was purely other problems." The last time I saw her outside the station, I was called to the police station. I witnessed the whole process of her being killed. I don’t have time to talk about the detailed process now, but Maya, remember that I love you, and I don’t want to hide from you… ...It's just that this matter has become more and more complicated now. Are you still willing to believe me?"

After hearing what he said, Maya could only stare at him for a while, trying to infer his mental state from his expression.After confirming that her boyfriend is not crazy, his eyes are calm, and he doesn't seem to have lost logic, he finally eased his tone: "Of course, Leon, I don't believe you, who else can you trust."

"So... I may seldom go home these days, but I'm not doing anything bad, nor have I encountered anything... As long as I have a chance, I will report to you. Don't trust the police, if you are caught If you ask, just say I didn't tell you anything."

After finishing his instructions to his girlfriend, Leon tidied up all his belongings, opened the door and went downstairs, and found the door with neon lights around him.

He also transferred the remaining tens of thousands of yuan in the bank account to his girlfriend's name... Even if he really died on this day, at least she can live a good life, right?

It was morning, when the tavern was at its least crowded.

Boss Xue was about to take this opportunity to take a break when he saw the photographer open the door and walk in.This time he didn't intend to drink, but solemnly asked everyone in the tavern to at least save the other two guests who were still in his world.

Because according to the rules Boss Xue said, if he himself died as the only "guest" in this world, and the staff in the tavern didn't know about it, wouldn't the two of them never find their way back?

Xue Li told him to sit down for now... You have to explain the matter clearly before everyone knows how to help him, otherwise even if you pass by, you will probably be lost there like the two previous guests.

It's important to figure out who the enemy is and why the two mighty fighters failed to defeat them.

So the photographer still sat in front of the bar and told the gathered people in the tavern what happened in the past two days.

After hearing his story, Xue Li was the first to frown.

He immediately pointed out what was wrong: "...that train wouldn't have stopped on the spare track at 112th Street station, would it? It has its own terminal. That is to say, yesterday you shouldn't have It was a trap to find it there. Guests from other worlds may not know about it, but Mr. Leon, you should."

[116. No. 116]

"It's really wrong when I think about it now...but I didn't think of it at the time." Leon said regretfully, and took the food handed by Qido at the side... He was actually hungry all day yesterday, but the high nervousness made him Didn't feel it until now.

"Normal people can't think of it." Max on the side said softly, "But the bigger problem than this is that if the perverted killer is really alone, then he obviously can't control the operation of the subway, requisition the subway that was originally used to transport set traps for passengers’ subways, etc.; he wouldn’t even exist in the first place. Although the New York subway is old and the management is very chaotic, the conductor will never fail to notice that a murder is happening in his car.”

Xue Li went on to say: "Besides, things like cleaning up the train can't be done without the participation of the conductor. In addition, the police officer who obviously received the call is deliberately trying to deal with you and send you back to the train compartment." In front of the murderer...will it be that kind of incompetent guy?"

"You mean the black police?" Max, who was a policeman in the same city, shrugged: "Don't be kidding, the black police must collude with criminals to make money...and of course not for the pity of the victims change."

"Isn't the answer obvious?"

Xue Li pursed his lips, turned back to look at Leon who was filling his stomach, and came to a conclusion: "As a defender of order and a law enforcer, the police officer chose to side with the murderer, either because he betrayed his oath for his own benefit, or It's... the murder itself is part of the order."

The photographer was stunned.

Killing is part of the order?Could it be that the victims in the carriage were all criminals who escaped justice?The meat hammer man is actually a vigilante?No way?

This can also explain what happened to him, why he didn't kill himself - of course, because he was harmless to humans and animals, and he had never committed a crime at all.

Boss Xue on the side is already making plans: "I'll go find those two guests. If you have the 'key', you should be able to directly open the door closest to them. Max, you haven't lost your New York police officer ID yet, have you? Take the Storm Pulse Rifle and act together with this guest, lest he be targeted by those people again as soon as he returns."

"...If I'm regarded as an 'innocent', shouldn't I be punished again?" Leon asked abruptly, and Boss Xue still had to be taken aback for a moment before he understood what he was talking about.