Who are you?

The tea on the table was steaming, and the moonlight streamed in from the window, falling right on the two people's faces.

The profiteer looked at the other person carefully. Arthur had a comfortable face and gave people a warm and friendly feeling. He cordially invited the profiteer to sit down, and pushed the plate on the table to the guest, smiling and saying: "The guests who come here like this very much."

The snack on the plate was cute and sweet. The unscrupulous businessman could tell at a glance that it was the same raw material as the drug. The paint on the mask slowly flowed and turned a dangerous dark red.

"Where did you get these?"

"I spent some time in the Black Mist Border before, and there were several families there who sold medicinal herbs. Those herbs had a sweet smell and were extremely effective. They could treat the addiction of secret brews. So I bought a lot from those guys."

Arthur seemed not to notice the changing color of the mask and continued talking calmly.

"Later, I found that those herbs are very suitable for medicine and can greatly improve the effect and output of the medicine, so I developed a batch of new medicines. You can apply for certification from the association. This is a licensed release. As for the impact on the business of the Chamber of Commerce, I feel very sorry. But in front of the Black Mist Counterattack Plan, I think personal gains and losses should take a step back. What do you think?"

He easily threw the topic to the profiteer, controlling the center of the topic. Unfortunately, the black-robed merchant did not come here to discuss business today. He rarely spoke sharply: "I hope you can stop this behavior. There is something wrong with that batch of medicinal materials."

Arthur threw up his hands helplessly: "I'm sorry. All the drugs have been distributed and are very popular. Many people line up on the street day and night and even fight for them. If we stop now, those who have benefited will probably be the first to be unwilling."

"I can solve this problem, provided that I eliminate the source."

"Hehe...are you angry? Mr. Profiteer, I have admired you for a long time. I have heard of your name before. It is said that if you pay enough, you can get what you want. This reminds me of the ancient pre-dark mist era, when a group of greedy demons lived in the abyss. They were cunning and cruel, and only cared about profit. Once a deal was made with them, it would be completed. Countless people indulged in it until they lost everything they had."

Arthur leaned forward slightly and asked with interest, "Are you really related to those things?"

Sense of familiarity.

A strong sense of familiarity.

An ominous premonition surfaced, like returning to an old house that he hated after a long time. The profiteer tapped the table with his fingers, and looked at the other party with a little more scrutiny.

"Yes, I made a deal with the devil in exchange for my daughter's survival. But the devil deceived me. After I completed the deal, she opened her eyes and died again."

"So I made a final deal, betting my soul against the devil. Unlike the others, I did not enter the land of stars because of my pure soul. I am a prisoner of the world tree. This is my gamble, and it will not end until I defeat the devil."

"The abyss has collapsed. Apart from humans and monsters, there are no other races in this world. All the demons are dead. Who are you betting against?"

"If I fail, who knows if the devil will be resurrected."

The black-robed businessman smirked and shook out a coin from his sleeve. The metal spun on his fingertips, the positive side facing the doctor and the negative side facing himself. He flicked the coin with his fingers and threw it repeatedly in the air.

The scarred right hand defeated the experienced magician and made a lot of fun out of a small coin, attracting the attention of the audience unconsciously.

Arthur was no exception, he was enjoying the performance of the profiteer with great interest. The latter said calmly: "Now that I have answered your question, it is your turn next. I have something interesting, do you want to hear it?"

Without waiting for Arthur to answer, the profiteer continued talking to himself.

"There's something wrong with the batch of potions you sent. They're made from plants from the Black Mist Border. It just so happens that I have some business with the church, and their Holy Son cleared out a group of Black Mist followers in the west. They have one thing in common: they're all trustworthy nobles who've been to places like the Eastern Hills, and they report back without any problems."

"That's why the Black Mist Border didn't guard against these places at first. Although they were called the Land of Death, they were not dangerous to the Bloodline. But the results of the third trial proved that they were wrong. Those nobles unknowingly joined the Black Mist believers. They had spherical devices buried in their bodies that could cause firestorms. This was actually a very strange thing."

"Human will cannot be controlled. Where there is good, there must be evil. Likewise, where there is betrayal, there must be loyalty. These families have lived in the West for a long time. How could they suddenly betray collectively without even a hint of news? The most likely possibility is that they are being controlled."

"But as far as I know, these devices did not have this effect at first. The [Artisans] worked to give pollutants activity, thereby creating more forbidden pollutants. In a way, they were more like creating a new race."

"And the premise for the birth of a race is adaptation and evolution."

As the profiteer's lazy voice sounded, the smile on Arthur's face gradually faded, and he stared at the profiteer expressionlessly. Only at this moment would he discover him.

The coin bounced up and down, the moonlight was divided by the flying facets, coldly reflecting the faces of the two people. The crude smile on the pale mask was stained with dry red.

"I couldn't understand how the descendants of the Owen family were caught in the third trial. But now it seems that you have cultivated something dangerous. They take root in the human soul through a certain medium and enter the body. They absorb the pollution of humans themselves and will explode immediately once they leave. As for what the medium is, I'm afraid it is these plants."

“Nice analysis.”

Arthur clapped his hands in praise, showing his admiration without disguising it. The coin fell into the profiteer's palm for the last time. He held the Robbie and placed it on the table with the back of his hand facing up.

"I just have one question. Did you guys research the side effects of the secret brew on purpose?"

Arthur seemed helpless: "You are indeed a dishonest businessman. These are clearly two different questions. Unfortunately, I have no obligation to answer - unless you make a deal with me."

"You can't buy anything good with just a question."

"It's okay, I just hope you don't do anything to me today."

The profiteer thought for a moment, then pushed the coin out readily: "Deal."

The coin rolled along the table into Arthur's hand. He glanced at it and saw the reverse side facing up.

"You guessed it right. The side effects of the secret brew are intentional. The promotion of a new thing is slow, and the superiors can quickly see where the harm is and take containment measures. But if you combine them——"

He used two fingers to easily break the coin. The coin was broken into two pieces, sharp and uneven, scratching the doctor's palm. The latter picked it up without a care and reassembled it in front of the profiteer. The blood-stained coin was like a bright red full moon, and the red liquid slowly dripped along the cracks and hit the table and smeared into a ball.

"In order to dispel a greater threat, it doesn't matter if some extreme measures are used. The superiors only ask for results, even if they are just a little better."

For the Black Mist believers, this is a naked conspiracy. They have only one goal, which is to spread these two things more widely.

"So that's how it is. This means that the side effects of secret brewing can be eliminated. All of this is just your means of communication."

The profiteer nodded thoughtfully, not moved at all by the other party's words.

"An excellent plot. But I know one more thing. What are you going to give me in exchange? Arthur, no, Mr. Abbott. We meet again."

The doctor raised his eyebrows and said, "What are you talking about? Aibo is a traitor who escaped from the Noble Association. What does this have to do with me?"

The profiteer greeted me with a smile, but his words were sarcastic: "You should change your settings, at least don't use the same character every time, and control your madness, don't bite anyone you see like a mad dog on the street."

"Well, the way you talk reminds me of someone I know. He's just as sharp-tongued as you are."

[Arthur] stopped pretending, and his expression faded. He chuckled as if he had thought of something, and casually threw the coin on the table.

The seemingly intact coin turned into powder the moment it collided with the table. He stroked it gracefully across his palm, and the cut healed instantly.

After doing all this, the man raised his eyes and looked at the black-robed businessman, with a hint of green in his eyes: "This deal is of no use to me, I would rather make another deal. Mr. Profiteer, the other side of the coin is indeed your victory, but how do you know that these are not traps set for you?"

As he spoke, many chains suddenly extended from the chair where the black-robed merchant sat, tying him tightly to the spot. The room where the two were was removed from the cover, the walls and ceiling were bright red like blood, and the wailing of humans could be heard faintly.

The chain was covered with barbs, and its surface was red like rust. The profiteer calmly watched them tie him up, but he was unable to get into the bandage.

"This is the forbidden pollutant [King's Chair]. In the era before the Black Mist, it was a special chair for executing the royal family." Ai Bo said calmly, "Thanks to your previous words, I am sure of something. Your ability is not a transaction, but an [Equivalent Exchange]."

The restrained person paused for a moment. Trading and equal exchange are two similar concepts.

Ordinary people would regard the unscrupulous merchant's ability as a transaction. He is the owner of the shop and all the goods, and can sell them at will.

But in reality, the essence of the unscrupulous merchant's blessing is to exchange valuable things for valuable things. He is more like the keeper of the treasure house. When someone makes a transaction application to him, he can take out the corresponding treasure and take the opportunity to make a profit.

The essence lies in whether the treasure belongs to him.

This can also be seen from the curse of the profiteer. [Trading must get the corresponding chips, and you must not do things because of your conscience]. This vague and subtle curse has not yet taken effect. The reason why Mason set up this vest to be connected with the devil was that he felt that the two were very similar. An image that made a pact with the devil is very consistent with the blessing and curse of the profiteer.

But once someone finds this loophole, it will be easy to be targeted. Noticing the slight pause in the unscrupulous businessman's actions, Ai Bo's smile became even brighter. He took the initiative to stretch out his right hand towards the torture chair, and a chain pierced through his palm, which was stained red with blood.

Ai Bo, however, looked very happy and said with a smile: "It seems that I guessed it right. Even if you want to use this ability, you have to pay a price. In this case, as long as you add an unpayable price on top of it, you can be trapped here."

The profiteer shook out a new coin and said, "This customer seems to be confident."

"I don't deserve it. I just have a precious item that I want to trade with you."

"Do you know the legend of the King's Chair?"

"This chair was once treasured by successive kings and became a symbol of royal power. But later, the royal family became cruel and lost the support of the people. The rebellious army killed all the royal family members on this chair, and the blood and resentment were integrated into the chair. From then on, the throne of royal power became the execution ground of the royal family. The stronger the prisoner, the stronger its effect. No matter what kind of person, they must stay for 48 hours before leaving. This is the time it took to execute all the royal family members back then."

"But this is not the most interesting part of the King's Chair. It can be opened and closed under certain conditions, provided that sufficient sacrifices are paid. For example, if a ton of gold is required to open the lock, then the holder must have a ton of gold; if a hundred people must be killed to open the lock, then the holder must be able to kill these hundred people."

"Before coming here, I gave it to the Queen of Insects." Aibo smiled and spoke in a gentle and soothing tone. "So the condition for its opening is to kill all humans in the Insect City."

"As long as you can pay the corresponding price, you can leave here."

The profiteer's expression finally changed. The corners of his painted mouth turned downward, and his voice became dangerous: "Do you think you can trap me here like this?"

"I am still with you. By the way, you can kill me. The King's Chair will be more effective."

Ai Bo answered indifferently, not caring about his own life at all, and even sounded a little eager to try.

The profiteer was somewhat unhappy, but he did not choose to force the break. First, it was not worth exchanging such a huge fortune for freedom, and second, the church's book had mentioned Ai Bo's situation.

Using one's own blood to strengthen the power of the pollutant is called blood sacrifice. It is usually used when the owner has difficulty controlling the pollutant.

The current owner of [The King's Torture Chair] is [The Mother of All Insects]. If Aibo wants to use it, he will have to pay a heavy price. The pollutants cannot be used for too long.

Don't think that kid is talking so thrillingly, maybe he is hoping to consume the power of the profiteer. Moreover, he overlooked a crucial thing, the profiteer controls Bai's soul.

This is stricter than a slave contract. Bai's thoughts and actions are all exposed to the eyes of the profiteer. Similarly, if he wants Bai to do something unilaterally, in many cases it doesn't need to be so troublesome.

He leaned back leisurely on the torture chair, and his carefree attitude made Ai Bo's smile fade a little. He stared at the mask of the profiteer, constantly thinking about what other cards the other party had. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't figure out the profiteer's plan. The black-robed merchant chuckled and let him look at him, and his fingertips flicked silently.

Black Forest Tavern, Black District.

This old-looking but full-of-history tavern has become the intelligence center of the entire black zone, with a large amount of intelligence flowing in every day. Today is different from usual days. A sign saying "Closed" is hung on the door of the tavern. Waiters wearing masks come and go, delivering wine with fine white foam to different tables.

The people sitting at the table were all wearing gray and black clothes that largely concealed their body features. They all had different masks on their faces.

Thanks to the Black Forest Tavern, masks are now popular in the Black Zone. Many intelligence dealers have begun to learn to give up hats and wear masks to disguise their identities.

They sat together in twos and threes, whispering to each other: "Have you found the information that Master Crying Face needs?"

"No, everything is normal outside. I asked someone to get the medicine on the street, and after checking, it was normal."

"I sent someone to steal the teleportation array and had the best craftsman check it. There was nothing wrong with the teleportation array."

"I asked someone to get close to the new S-class researcher in the Mechanical City..."

The first two people took a deep breath and said, "You succeeded?"

The last person took a sip of wine awkwardly: "No, it was thrown out by those machines. I don't know what kind of machines they are, but they are strictly guarded against outsiders. It is said that this researcher brought the latest technology and the confidentiality measures were particularly good."

Other intelligence dealers sighed: "If we can get this technology, it will be worth a lot of money."

The intelligence dealers in the tavern showed their yearning. However, they were still rational. This was the critical moment of the Black Mist counterattack plan. As a core figure, anyone who dared to attack the researcher would risk being attacked by a group of people. Even if they had a hundred courage, they would not dare to do so.

Bai was among the intelligence traders, listening to their idle chatter. It was interesting at first, but it got more and more boring. Just when he was thinking about whether to change places, he

Unscrupulous businessmen usually wouldn't inform him in this way. The boy was quick to sense the problem, and his face under the mask suddenly tensed up.

After listening carefully to the profiteer's words, he immediately stood up, walked around, and returned upstairs under the protection of the waiters.

Soon, an order was passed down from the second floor of the Black Forest Tavern and spread like ripples to the entire black area.

Letters were sent out from the black area and delivered to various dignitaries. Regardless of their surprise when they received the news, the free medicine stalls in the black area had been cleared out very quickly. Those who drank the medicine were gathered together, which was something that could only be done in the black underground.

Power, violence, and justice are indispensable.

Looking at the amount submitted, Bai heaved a sigh of relief. People in the black area are greedy for small profits, and when they suddenly encounter someone distributing drugs, they will naturally collect them home without hesitation.

Fortunately, these guys took the medicine not for their own consumption, but to sell it. He ordered people to find the account book, and looking at the densely packed destinations, he couldn't help but sigh in his heart, not knowing whether he was lucky or helpless.

The owner said that these medicines have problems and cannot be taken. The tavern's action was timely, and coupled with its long-term intimidation, it was enough to shock the inside of the black area.

But what about outside the black zone? I don’t know how many people have already drunk these expensive gifts.

......

Bug City.

When I woke up, the dark fog that had enveloped the barn had quietly dissipated. The sky was still a hazy gray-black, and there were no street lights in the barn, as if to say that there was no day or night here.

When the red-haired young man got up from the ground, the others had already gotten up. The Cangsang man went out early in the morning to work on what he had promised last night, while Flynn and the priest were sorting out the supplies. Aga got a bunch of spare parts from somewhere and worked hard in a corner.

Seeing the red-haired young man wake up, Ricks greeted him: "Good morning, I was just about to go get some food for everyone."

Naturally, they had to prepare their own breakfast. In fact, they brought a certain amount of food, but in this case, high-calorie food must be saved for the most critical moment.

Rex, disguised as a low-level insect, was naturally the best choice for going out. The red-haired young man gave him a few words of advice and watched him go out.

Ricks went out for a walk and easily brought back enough food. But when he came back, he did not choose the familiar road.

He looked left and right and slipped into a path in the barn.

This path was extremely remote and rarely visited. But Ricks walked very fast, cleverly avoiding everyone's sight, and finally came to a collapsed hut.

The thatched grass on the ground had already rotted, and the ground was full of holes, without even a single weed growing. Rex leaned over to prop up the fallen door, and it took him a lot of effort to prevent the rotten wood from cracking. The Bloodline's eyes carefully stroked the door, and soon found the purpose of his trip.

He touched the two names carved on the door with pity. One had been eroded by time, but the other was still vaguely recognizable: "Cohen."

Looking at the name, Rex's eyes were filled with nostalgia. He carefully put the board back and suddenly heard a click from behind.

The man immediately became alert and stared at the direction of the sound with full vigilance. However, the person who came out was not the enemy he imagined.

Amelia appeared on the road, with a sick look on her face, but she looked much better. Neither of them expected to meet each other here, and the atmosphere was a little awkward. Rex subconsciously looked to the side, as if looking for a place to hide.

"This is where the chief and deputy chief live. No one has been here for a long time. How did you find this place?"

Amelia looked at the collapsed hut, then looked at Rex, her tone full of inquiry. Rex subconsciously took a step back, but Amelia did not let him go.

"Where did you get in from? I didn't see you on the way here."

This is a difficult question to answer because the path he just took is only known to few people.

Ricks remained silent until he turned away from the woman's gaze. Amelia asked again and again without success, so she stared at Ricks for a while and said, "Do you know me?"

How to explain this? Ricks hesitated, not knowing how to face the other party. He looked at the sky, the ground, the air, but not at Amelia, until the woman asked in a trembling voice: "Who are you?"

She sounded like she was about to cry, and Ricks was terrified when women cried.

That would remind him of some unforgettable past events, and the scars left in his heart burned and hurt. The man was silent for a long time and finally raised his head. He was actually younger than the woman, but his tone was calm.

"Amelia, you're still a crybaby."

Hearing that familiar name, Amelia's eyes suddenly widened: "You are——"

"Tsk."

The woman suddenly covered her mouth and looked at him in shock. A faint sound flowed out from between her fingers, full of wonder.

"How did you get out of there?"

"......"

Ricks was silent for a moment, then said, "Cohen brought me out."

Those things happened so long ago that Ricks felt nostalgic when he said the name.

Cohen.

This was the name of his former best friend and the original deputy leader of the resistance.