Through the area covered by bullets, I returned to the tunnel with dozens of miners and company personnel. When I appeared in front of them, most of the people were frightened by what I am now.

Just now, I was hit by dozens of bullets.

In just a short while, my injury has completely recovered, but because of the shot, my current appearance is extremely scary.

He was ragged and covered with blood scabs, and it looked like he had just encountered a tragic car accident.

"Where are those people?"

In the audience, the only person who was not scared by me was No. 7.

As the second in command of our team, he has a clear understanding of mine.

"Go away."

I didn't even look at No. 7, so I walked straight over and passed by him. In this team, his position is below me, so there is no need to report to him what I did or what I encountered.

Because of this, although No. 7 was a little dissatisfied with my answer and attitude, she could only endure it silently.

When the skinny mixed-race boy saw me walking towards him, he immediately ran to the crowded place in the corner in fear. However, the poor miners who had figured out his fate with him did not welcome him at all. Before he could run over, someone raised his leg and kicked him out of the crowd.

I know these people do this because they are afraid that this mixed-race boy will implicate them.

But in fact, they just thought too much.

Although it is easy to kill them, I am not interested in them at all. What I care most about now is this mixed-race man.

The mixed-race child was in pain, covered his stomach with a painful expression and curled up on the ground. His forehead with protruding cheekbones flowed from the pain, and his whole body was trembling.

I called the linguist over and asked him to act as a translator.

"May I have your name."

Hearing this, the mixed-race man tried his best to pull the corners of his mouth, sucked in the air conditioner, and squeezed out a few words from his teeth.

"Perskar."

"Is your mother white?" "No, my grandma is."

The vocabulary translated by linguists does not have any emotion.

Persca's grandmother is white, that is, he is already a third generation.

"Where is your grandma?"

I said in a deep voice.

"Dead."

This answer was something I expected, but to be honest, the news was really bad for us, especially for me.

Before performing this mission, the company had issued a death order, to meet people alive and to meet corpses, but I definitely hoped that the white woman I saw was a living person. After all, I could not grab a corpse or even ashes and ask about the curse on me, right?

No matter how disappointed we are, we cannot return empty-handed.

Putting aside the company's tasks, I personally have a lucky mentality: if I can find something related to the curse of that white woman from the burial point, it would not be a waste of time... "Tell him that we need to know the place of his grandmother's burial."

I told the language experts.

The language expert nodded and then interrogated Perska. However, after hearing the language expert's question, Perska showed a look of surprise and surprise. He widened his eyes, cut off all the company personnel present, and dodged his eyes. Then, under the gaze of all of us, I arched my body and hugged my head tightly.

"He said he didn't know."

have no idea?

I frowned slightly. He was a grandchild, and the white woman we were looking for was only a lifetime away from him. How could he not know where he was buried?

Finally, under the linguist's questioning, Persca explained his family changes like us.

As soon as he was born, he lived with his parents and sisters in Walvis. The family lived a poor and simple life, but misfortune always came unexpectedly. When he was fifteen, his parents had a car accident and both passed away. Not long after the funeral, he was arrested at the mine and worked as a slave.

He had never seen his grandmother before, but he vaguely remembered that his father had told him that his grandmother was a great mother... If someone in this world might know the site of his grandmother's tomb, then he would probably only be five years older than him. However, his sister is a deaf and mute person and cannot speak. He has been away from home for two years, and he doesn't know if his sister is still alive now.

"I lost another empty..."                                                                                                                            �

Tsk.

I originally thought that this mixed-race boy was the answer we needed to find, but now it seems that he is just a clue provider. Our real goal seems to be still far from us.

As soon as Persca finished telling us about his experience, the narrow tunnel began to tremble, and followed by a loud bang! Before I could react, the mine slaves who had been huddled in the corner because of fear of us were crazy, running towards us desperately, screaming hysterically while running.

I couldn't understand what these people were saying, but the linguist changed his expression and took my hand and hurriedly said: "This is a landslide!"

Landslide! What a joke?

We are now at a distance of hundreds of meters underground! Once a landslide occurs here, all of us will become dead souls deep in the ground! No one can live from here, even if it is a powerful transformer like me and No. 7! “Run!”

Before I could think too much, I immediately yelled, grabbed Perska, who was curled up on the ground, and rushed out of the tunnel. However, the entrance of the tunnel was so big that the mine slaves who were rushing to block the entrance of the cave before us. Dozens of people squeezed into a ball, and it was unrealistic to rush out.

“Get out of here!”

Just as I was considering whether to start a massacre, a human-shaped red light suddenly popped up beside me.

When he looked closely, this light was No. 7, who had already fully displayed his ability. At this moment, he was a red-burned iron pillar. He rushed towards the entrance of the cave. Anyone he touched would lose half his life even if he did not die.

You should know that the high temperature generated by the superpower of No. 7 can even melt iron, let alone a person made of flesh and blood.

The smell of barbecue was faintly floating in the air.

No. 7 made us a bloody road among dozens of mine slaves.
Chapter completed!