Doomsday strong training system

"Brainless monster!"

After the half-breed cursed, he threw off his arms and continued to run wildly in the dark and narrow tunnel.

The sewers here are different from those in Europe. After three years of development, the basic defenses of the tunnels are very complete, and even have laser sensors. As long as the lasers are triggered, the defenders at the entrance of the dungeon will know.

Soon, the half-blood ran to the entrance, which was a thick concrete door with a square observation hole in the thick steel plate.

The half-blood ran to the door and knocked quickly, reporting loudly what he wanted.

"Open the door, New York messenger."

"click"

The square observation hole opened, and a human face with dark complexion and red eyes emerged.

The half-blood immediately showed the badge of the messenger to show his identity.

With the sound of clanging latches, the heavy metal door was swung open.

The black man was tall and burly, with cold eyes, sniffed his nose vigilantly, and greedily licked his lower lip.

"It's the taste of inferior people."

After speaking, he grabbed the half-blood by the collar, slammed him against the wall, pulled off his anti-radiation mask, and continued to sniff his body greedily.

"I'm a messenger, I'm in charge of sending messages, you can't eat me!"

"It's a pity, it's a pity."

The black burly man let go of his hand unwillingly, and said with a smirk:

"I haven't eaten for several days. You'd better pray that I won't run into you after delivering the letter."

The courier rushed into the entrance of the dungeon in a panic, rushed forward with three steps, and accidentally bumped into a person, which was as hard as a wall.

"Watch the way, you bastard!"

The messenger frantically avoided the black man and moved on.

The underground city is very chaotic, crowded with people, crowded in noisy and chaotic streets, and full of smog everywhere.

Someone was smoking and shaking his head in a daze.

Someone was strumming a guitar and singing loud heavy metal music.

Someone was forging iron, and the sharp steel knives radiated red flames.

Someone is fighting, and a disagreement is a fight.

Many messy sounds mixed together, making the dungeon even more smoky.

The messenger proceeded cautiously, carefully avoiding everyone, because he knew that this dungeon was full of ogres, and if they knew that he was a mutant, the identity of the messenger would not be able to save him.

Carefully avoiding all troubles, he cautiously came to the center of the dungeon, and nervously knocked on the door of the castellan's room.

"Messenger, I'm here to deliver the letter!"

The steel gate was separated from the left and right, and there were all kinds of horrific cries from inside, as if what opened was not the gate of the city lord, but the real hell world.

Entering the city lord's mansion with fear, you can see higher-level hell demons everywhere. They are the rulers of this world, standing at the top of the food chain, and they are also the highest-level human beings in the last century.

Some demons hugged left and right, some demons looked at the messenger ferociously, and some demons were feasting, and what he ate was human thighs.

The messenger didn't look sideways, and walked carefully to the gate of the city lord. When he was about to report, he was scared and fell to the ground by the guard's roar, causing all the demons to roar with ferocious laughter.

"Poor and weak mutant, it's ridiculous, hahaha..."

Chapter 602 Les Miserables

"Let him in!"

A majestic voice came from the inner door of the City Lord's Mansion, and the hoarse voice sent chills down the spine.

"The city lord summons, let's go in!"

The demon guard grabbed the courier on the ground and threw him into the room.

Gululu rolled several times, and when the courier stopped and raised his head cautiously, he saw a scene that made him envious.

There are dim neon lights in the room, and there are many people sitting on the leather sofa, basically all of them are dark-skinned women, some are smoking, some are posing in front of the steel pipe, and some are accompanying the devil, talking and laughing very ambiguously .

The demon is more than two meters tall, with dark skin, red eyes, two long horns on his forehead, and tattoos all over his face and body.

On the neck and fingers of the devil, there are exaggerated necklaces and all kinds of dazzling diamond rings.

He was lying on the sofa, and two dark-skinned women were serving him, and their presence did not affect their happiness.

"Bastard, have you seen enough?"

The devil said something in a cold voice, and the messenger hurriedly lay down on the ground with his head lowered, his body trembling.

"Who are you delivering the letter for?"

The messenger hurriedly took out the envelope from his inner pocket, kept his head bowed, and presented the letter with trembling hands.

"I am the New York City courier, and I have been ordered to deliver a message to you."

The lazy woman who was smoking stood up, walked to the courier, picked up the letter, and tore it open to read aloud.

"The upper city order, ordered the dungeon forces to send 500 people to Europe to assist in the reconstruction!"

"what!"

The demon flew into a rage, knocked the woman riding on him to the ground, rushed over angrily, grabbed the letter and quickly glanced at it.

"Why did he order us to dispatch 500 people? Did they forget the agreement that black lives are expensive? Dare to order us to go to Europe? Does this mean that they don't want to develop peacefully!"

All the black women in the room gathered together and surrounded the devil, talking about yin and yang, what a peace agreement, what equality, what life is expensive and so on.

The devil raised his hand to stop the audience from chattering, and solemnly looked at the messenger who was kneeling on the ground.

"What do you mean by that?"

The messenger trembled all over, and said tremblingly:

"I don't know, maybe, every dungeon needs to produce 500 people, whether they are slaves or mutants."

The devil frowned, picked up the messenger from the ground, put his hands on his shoulders, and walked forward side by side like good friends.