Restart Spain

"Move faster, move faster, and move everything. This section of the road must be completed tonight."

The Spanish army officer riding an Andalusian warhorse urged, the pistol in his hand waved forward impatiently.

Here is the construction site of a railway from Ourense to A Coruña.

Army officers in M36 uniforms look majestic on tall and mighty Andalusian war horses.

But for the working Moroccan laborers, officers are undoubtedly symbols of the devil.

The countless Moroccan laborers before this may have just had a little rest, or they had a little bit of back talk when facing the Spanish Army.

As an officer, you may make a big shot, and even kill a killer.

So he was privately called Bloody Alex by the Moroccan laborers here.

"These hateful Spaniards, don't know when we'll be able to escape."

"Be quieter, be quieter, don't say any more, if Alex hears it, it will inevitably be another beating."

A Moroccan husband in his 20s peeked angrily at Alex in front of him, his tone full of anger and despair.

The Spaniards tricked them into coming to Spain with high salaries, but the reality is always different from the imagination.

They are forced to participate in high-intensity work that ordinary people simply cannot bear.

The sleeping is a temporary tent, and every day Spanish soldiers on high-headed horses take turns to guard.

They don't have a decent quilt, and many people use their own thin clothes to keep warm for the winter.

In this cold winter, I don't know how many Moroccan compatriots died under the Spanish railway tracks.

And the Spaniards, in order to minimize the cost, the food they eat is just some leftovers,

Some even can only survive on some soup soup.

If living in poverty in Morocco is nothing but poverty, in Spain it is complete Moroccan hell.

Batches of Moroccan laborers died on the territory of Spain, and they could not even get a tombstone, and hurriedly threw them under the construction site, ending their lives.

Due to the strong deterrence of the Spanish army, there were not many Moroccan workers who dared to escape.

But there are also some Moroccans who can't stand this cruel oppression and choose to flee.

But compared with the highly mobile and vigilant Spanish army, the probability of the Moroccans being able to escape is simply too low.

Many people had just escaped from the camp when they were discovered by the Spaniards and shot dead on the spot.

In this regard, Spain has formulated a more brutal countermeasure. If any Moroccans in any group are missing or run away, the rest of the Moroccans will be punished.

In great fear, Moroccans began to monitor each other.

They don't know when this kind of day is a head, but they still hope that someone can come to rescue them.

Of course, many Moroccans who were originally working in Spain discovered what happened to the Moroccan workers here.

For this reason, many people once ran to the construction site and questioned the Spanish officers.

But the answer is undoubtedly not that this is just a job, all Moroccans work here with high wages.

Although most of the people chose to give up or not pursue it before facing the government machine, there are still a small number of Moroccans who chose to find out.

Among them, Leinster was one of them. He was an ordinary mechanic from Ceuta, and he had no support because he had no wife or family.

It was precisely because he had no worries, that he dared to infiltrate the crowd of Moroccan laborers and wanted to find out.

The real situation of the Moroccan workers really shocked the ordinary patriotic Moroccan.

"Dear Mattes, everything I said next is true, maybe I won't go out alive again."

"The Moroccans don't get a full meal here, they don't have clothes to wear, and the Spaniards don't even give them a quilt."

"All of us are forced to work hard every day, and the Spaniards will wantonly kill and abuse our fellow citizens."

"Once there are any mistakes in the work, the Moroccans may be beaten and abused, or even directly killed."

"The bodies of our Moroccan compatriots are buried under every inch of the railway that Spain has built."

"The high wages promised by the Spaniards are completely false, and no one has ever received them."

"Mates, I hope you will spread this news to the Moroccan government as soon as possible, every Moroccan here is waiting to be rescued."

"The more time goes by, the more Moroccans will die at the guns and knives of the Spaniards."

"Please pass this message to the Moroccan government, and the royal family will do justice for us..."

Leinster wrote this crookedly, possibly saving Moroccan letter.

As a carefree Moroccan patriot, at this point he has put his life and death aside.

He and his friend Mattes had discussed it in advance.

Leinster sneaked into the Moroccan camp, worked as a Moroccan laborer, and recorded all the facts to the outside world.

Leinster took a peek at him and saw that the Spanish cavalry did not pay attention to himself, and the paper with such important information was tightly clenched in his hands.

Taking advantage of this gap, he squatted down behind the completed railway and quietly buried the tissue in it.

After burying it, he tore off the brightly colored piece of cloth on his cuff and gently placed it on top.

He had told Masters before that, if he didn't come out late, let him follow the railway track to find the mark he left him.

After finishing all this, Leinster cautiously started to work, and the Spanish officer next to him did not notice anything unusual here.

Then his task has been completed, and he believes that his good friend Mattes can find the message he sent.

There was no way for him to quickly pass the news, and he could only use this means in his heart, hoping that Matters would be quicker and find the mark he left behind.

"Clap! Clap! Clap!"

"Idiot, can't even work!"

After he finished delivering the news, the Spanish soldiers in the distance began to beat up the Moroccan husband again.

The cavalry's cavalry sword was unsheathed and used as a stick to hit the poor Moroccan laborer again and again.

He didn't give a **** about the wailing Moroccans below.

On this side, Leinster's eyes were on fire, looking at these disgusting Spanish soldiers, his fists clenched tightly...

"Brother Shen!"

"Um!"

Shen Changqing was walking on the road, and when he met someone he knew, he would say hello or nod to each other.

But no matter who.

Everyone's face has no superfluous expressions, as if they are very indifferent to everything.

to this.

Shen Changqing is used to it.

Because this is the Suppression Division, an organization that maintains the stability of Daqin, UU read www. uukanshu. The main responsibility of com is to kill monsters and monsters, and of course there are some other side jobs.

It can be said.

In the Demon Suppression Division, everyone had a lot of blood on their hands.

When a person is used to seeing life and death, he will become indifferent to many things.

When he first came to this world, Shen Changqing was a little uncomfortable, but over time he got used to it.

The town magic department is very big.

Those who can stay in the Town Demon Division are all powerful masters, or those who have the potential to become masters.

Shen Changqing belongs to the latter.

Among them, the Demon Suppression Division is divided into two occupations, one is the guardian envoy and the other is the demon slayer.

Anyone who enters the Demon Suppression Division starts from the lowest level of demon slayer.

Then he was promoted step by step, and finally he was expected to become a guardian envoy.

Shen Changqing's predecessor was a trainee slayer in the Demon Suppression Division, and he was also the lowest-ranked slayer.

Has the memory of the predecessor.

He is also very familiar with the environment of the Town Demon Division.

It didn't take too long, Shen Changqing stopped in front of an attic.

Different from other places full of chills in the Demon Suppression Division, the attic here seems to stand out from the crowd, showing a different tranquility in the **** Suppression Demon Division.

At this time, the door to the attic was open, and occasionally people came in and out.

Shen Changqing just hesitated for a moment, then stepped inside.

Enter the attic.

Circumstances have changed in vain.

A burst of ink fragrance mixed with a faint smell of blood rushed towards his face, causing his brows to instinctively wrinkle, but it quickly relaxed.

There is almost no way to clean the **** smell of everyone in Zhen Mosi.