Surviving The Fourth Calamity-Chapter 349 - 148 Why Hasn’t the Abyss Opened a Door Here? (Extra for Unparalleled Heavenly Master Alliance Hierarch, Part Five)

Hill bowed his head and earnestly looked at the two little girls of the Undead Tribe; they were probably the authors of his own small biography.

In the future, he absolutely had to be careful not to make any slip-ups in front of them— he really didn’t want to end up seeing a "The Sequel to Hill" one day.

As for infiltrating the Saral government to listen to those nobles’ discussions or to gather information from the nobles,

It was basically impossible.

Unless someone could really guarantee a nine-to-five job in the game, doing the most work while earning the least money.

At Hill’s place, he only required Old Cat to work a little each day, and didn’t even require him to clock in; List would inform him if there was anything.

Official officers of Saral would not do the same.

And even if the official salaries of Saral weren’t low, they couldn’t earn as much as High-level Professionals.

Their annual salary might not be as much as what a single high-level task would pay.

The nobles wouldn’t gossip with an Undead Tribe member around.

That would be no different from blabbering nonsense in front of William.

As for other methods of gathering information, it might be possible since the Saral Nobles don’t quite understand what High-level Professionals are truly capable of.

People without any big secrets wouldn’t waste so much money setting up high-level defensive formations in their homes.

Hill thought for a moment and realized he didn’t have anything the nobles knew that the Undead Tribe didn’t.

It was the opposite, if anything.

Hill had already become fearless; he just needed to carry his hairpin with him from now on.

Let this group of fools look slowly!

Following the fall of three Legendary characters, the gates of Central City had been directly blasted to ruins.

The cameras of the Undead Tribe had all entered Central City.

It was a bustling city, with a large number of tree houses, Dwarves’ round houses, and Human constructions intermingled with two styles in the city center, creating an impressive and distinct flavor.

Even Hill, who had grown accustomed to the architectural styles of the Human world, found the sight before him quite stunning.

The Undead Tribe members liked it even more; many people in the large screening area were looking for houses they preferred.

However, their expressions soon turned ugly.

This city was a hell for Human slaves and Magical Beasts.

Behind the round houses of the Dwarves were numerous slaughterhouses with the fragmented parts of various Magical Beasts scattered all over the ground.

Perhaps because they were in a hurry to leave, many of the beasts had only recently been slaughtered, with only some of the internal organs and flesh taken away, and the rest just thrown on the ground.

Most members of the Snow Cloud Peak Alliance had headed towards the Dwarves’ side.

Many of them had Magical Beast friends and now were full of raging anger.

They had the innate ability to identify that those who died were all Intermediate-level Magical Beasts or higher.

All intelligent creatures, just like the animals who would talk and playfully interact with their friends.

On the battlefield, the brave triumphs and the loser dies—it’s natural.

Even when encountering Mid-High Tier Magical Beasts in the wilderness, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill them.

If it were only the corpses of Magical Beasts, perhaps the members of the Undead Tribe wouldn’t be so furious.

But the expressions on the discarded heads of the Death Beasts were all twisted in agony.

The Dwarves had cut off the organs they wanted while the beasts were still alive, draining their blood.

Cruel enough to be sickening.

For this Alliance with many Magical Beast friends, they couldn’t bear to see the kin of their friends die this way: dismembered and with open eyes in death.

Members of the Snow Cloud Peak Alliance began searching through the Dwarf roundhouses one by one, while releasing their Magical Beast friends. Amidst their bleak cries, they piled up the bodies of the Magical Beasts they found onto a small square and set them ablaze.

In the midst of the roaring flames, the Undead Tribe and their Magical Beast friends shared faces filled with the fire of revenge.

The Undead Tribe were known to be fiercely protective of their own, and for the sake of their Magical Beast friends, their blades would point directly at the Dwarves.

Near the Elves’ tree houses, there wasn’t much to find.

Other than flowers, plants, and trees.

They made it clear that their area was separated from the Dwarves and Humans by a large number of thorns.

It seemed they disdained to associate with others.

Yet, they still lived in this nightmarish city, deaf to the wailing of Magical Beasts and blind to the suffering of Humans.

In the area where the Humans lived, the Undead Tribe stood solemnly, their faces ugly with distress, and many girls could no longer hold back their tears.

Where the slaves dwelled, in the forest behind the Human structures, there was no cover at all.

The men were probably meant for physical labor and were slightly better off, numb yet knowing enough to form a circle to protect the women and children in the middle.

The women were all skin and bones, their complexions sallow.

Yet, behind them were children with disproportionately large heads and bodies as thin as poles.

Every forest was filled with a large number of slaves, and in the forests without even a wall, not a single slave dared to escape.

As the Undead surrounded the perimeter, unsure of what to do, the black smoke from the burning initiated by the Snow Cloud Peak Alliance startled the slaves.

The slaves who had been standing shakily suddenly knelt down and knocked their heads on the ground, begging for mercy.

They were afraid that these newly-arrived Professionals would burn them alive.

But even so, no one tried to run away; they just numbly waited for their fate.

It was a desolate sight to behold.

The Humans of this city probably no longer considered themselves part of the Human Race.

Otherwise, how could they treat their own kind in such a manner?

"We are the Army of the Human Kingdom of Saral," a crisp voice of a little girl rang out, "We won’t harm Humans easily. Slaves will be well taken care of."

The little loli in a white gauze dress put away her Magic Wand and slowly approached the slaves, "As long as you obey, you’ll live well. Saral is short on people, and we even have to buy slaves for farming from other countries! If you can farm, you will survive!"

After hearing this, the slaves slightly lifted their heads to look at the little girl who spoke like an adult.

The Undead quickly pushed all the little lolis and boys to the front of the crowd.

Seeing the warm smiles on those cute, childish faces, the slaves slowly got to their feet and followed the Undead’s directions towards the square in the center of the city.

There, the Undead had already prepared desks and chairs for registration, along with plenty of food.

"That’s the Clan Leader of the PVE family, right?" Xiao Chenhuan said, "Isn’t his name Leng Lie? He’s quite impressive!"

"It’s him," Old Cat took over the conversation, "He’s always been meticulous, always first in the instance speed rankings."

The Undead were full of praise.

They were angry too, but the most harrowing places had already been censored out, so they could bear it.

They also understood Leng Lie’s intention.

To these devastated, numb slaves, telling them they would be liberated would only make them disbelieve.

All they could think about was survival, not living well.

Only after their bodies had recovered a bit and their spirits had revived would it be time to talk about the future.

"That’s strange. Why didn’t they open the Abyssal Gate here in the first place?" Yue Xiaoluo astutely remarked, "This place is more evil than the Human Kingdom, isn’t it?"