Since I came to this clinic, it has passed for a while and three moments have passed. All the wounded have been sent to the bed in a large house on the second floor according to Carlota's request.

After transporting all these "goods" into the house, the unknown Gulinius strong man returned to the small door where he was originally staying, without saying a word to continue his work. Nicolas, who was seriously injured, was taken to the treatment room by Carlota for simple treatment and rest.

Neither injured nor had any work, Curt wanted to help Carlota, but was taken to the hall on the first floor by the burly old man, asking him to "wait for a while."

So he sat in the hall with nothing to do for a moment.

The clinic was quite quiet, and the sound of Carlota walking back and forth on the second floor could be heard. A large colorful bird stopped on the shelf at one end of the hall and screamed from time to time, occasionally turning around, and playing a game of staring with Curt, who was not sure what kind of thing it was.

It was almost evening, and even though the sunset was relatively late in summer, the orange sunset was shining all over the streets. Looking through the window facing the back street, the sunlight shone westward on the streets that looked like a maze in the old city. The buildings with scattered heights seemed to be burning, breaking out the red twilight.

The birds were carrying a few small cans of mud-like jars, and the fragrance of grass blew out from them. Perhaps it was time to sleep, and the colorful birds began to doze. It shook its head from time to time, as if it wanted to cheer itself up, and then continued to stare at Curt, whose eyes had been removed.

A sound of footsteps approached, and a white figure appeared on the second floor: "Sorry, I didn't expect you to wait for so long. Those human boys ate things they shouldn't touch, and it took a lot of effort to remove the remaining poison. The next treatment may take a lot of time."

He walked down the stairs step by step, and the stairs, which were weak compared to his burly body, creaking and wailing, as if he would be trampled on the next step.

"Those little ghosts must have been framed. Someone asked them to take some kind of body strengthening agent." Curt looked up and saw a lot of sweat on Old Gulinius's face. "But I'm really troubled you. I didn't expect these little gangsters to have doctors like you to assist in the treatment."

Walking down the swaying stairs, Carlota walked slowly towards Curt - for nearly twice the pace of the average person, this may be a slow speed.

Carlota said as if he hadn't heard what Curt said, and said the physical condition of the wounded: "Nicolas is still sleeping, and he has basically used up his last strength until he persists here. If he only considers the trauma, he actually suffered a heavier injury than those guys who were knocked out."

"So that's it. I said why I'm quiet when I heard him screaming two pig-killing screams? It turns out that you used her a sleep-enhancing medicine." Curt laughed, as if he had guessed this situation. "It seems that I'm still asking for help. His companions are crazy and don't know the importance of the attack."

In a few words, Carlota had already walked to Curt's side. The heavy patterned robe he was wearing was wet with sweat, and the old blood marks of unknown origin were shining with an old dull color. When the bird stayed on the shelf saw him coming, he immediately flapped his wings and flew to his shoulders, rubbing his head against his face.

Maybe I had thought that it was Curt's hand before, and Carlota's expression did not change at all.

Carlota looked at Curt, saying, "There is nothing to do about it - because they have lost their minds. From their blood I smelled the smell of Boykin, a drug often used by the Berserkers in the North to suppress rationality. During the war, many invaders who invaded our territory tried to use this drug to control our warriors, and I have never forgotten this smell."

Perhaps he was thinking about the memories of living in his hometown. Although Carlota's eyes looked at Curt, his eyes floated to nowhere. His eyes shone, as if he had seen through the long years, as calm as if he had existed in an ancient lake that had not yet arrived.

calm.

This word is often not related to the free and unrestrained Gulinius. The people of this race, both young and old, are as hot as a fierce flame. Passion and courage are their characteristics. It is impossible to calm down and think carefully.

But Carlota is like an alien. The nature he shows is more like a human who has experienced many things than ordinary Gulinius.

"So that's it. I can probably think of who used this medicine." Ke Te nodded. The result was not much different from what he originally thought. "It's not the usual body enhancer, but the Berserker potion... I'm willing to use it to deal with these incompetent gangsters. It's really a big deal."

The drugs applied to the gangsters include two effects - strengthening muscles, allowing them to have extraordinary destructive power; enhancing endurance, allowing them to get up again and again. At the cost, their consciousness was erased to a level that even their companions could not distinguish.

Berserker potion, this potion is a bad medicine condensed by madness and strength, and is a harsh product of people as disposable consumables. Those who use this potion will become like crazy beasts and will not distinguish themselves from each other, and will commit crazy damage to everything around them.

The gangster who attacked Nicolas and Curt could still retain the last bit of will, probably because the person who drugged them had diluted the potion in advance.

"I have heard from the boys who have been transported before that they are fighting with some troubled guys recently, but they didn't expect that they would choose such despicable means. But this level of struggle requires these things... Human beings are a much crueler group than Gulinius in any era."

When he said these words, Carlota's face did not show any expression, but Curt could still feel sad from his tone. This may be because the old Gulinius, like him, could feel the influence of human civilization on their race.

The history of exchanges between humans and Gulinius can be traced back to more than a thousand years ago. At that time, humans already had the basic form of civilized society, and this race that lived on the edge of civilization was indeed a group of barbarians who were structured by tribes or families, eating raw and drinking blood.

From that time on, the living areas of these "barbaric races" were seized by humans in large quantities until they forced them into the great wilderness where humans could not survive. Although Gulinius, who advocated honor, wanted to preserve their living habits since ancient times, they could only helplessly watch their nation continue in the worse and worse situations. As for those Gulinius who entered a "civilized society", they had to choose to change themselves.

Curt smiled and closed his eyes: "Maybe that's the case, because unlike you, humans have to always think about the means and tools needed to solve problems. Perhaps these solutions to problems are despicable in your eyes, but in the end it is just a way to achieve their goal."

"Ah hahahahaha."

Old Gulinius smiled exaggeratedly, his laughter was rough and straightforward: "You are right. These methods are just 'ways' to achieve their goals. Even Gulinius, who used to only use duels as a means, have now begun to choose a diversified way to solve the problem."

The calm and quiet lake of ancient times rippled slightly.

"I have seen Gulinius who has become more despicable than humans, and also seen humans who are more noble than Carion, the most glorious. I have to say that this era is simply unimaginable when I was young. Perhaps an old bone like me may not be able to adapt to this world."

Theoretically, Gulinius' lifespan is much longer than that of humans. For humans whose average lifespan is less than fifty years, Gulinius, who can easily live to more than one hundred years, is often the object of envy. His excessively strong body ensures their health and strength. Unfortunately, few people in this race that advocates combat and glory can survive until their deaths - before that, they often died in battle.

"The most expensive peace is cheaper than the cheapest war. In fact, it is a good time for most people." Curt raised his index finger, "But for you, who were born as warriors, you can't quite understand how important such a stable daily life is to ordinary people."

Gulinius is a natural outstanding fighter. Compared with ordinary humans who must rely on good training to become a qualified warrior, Gulinius's talent is enough to make them powerful warriors. Perhaps because of such talent, they are not used to ordinary chores, so many Gulinius cannot adapt to a stable life after the war is over, and their instinct is eager to gain honors through combat.

"Maybe this is the case. When I retreated from the battlefield, many young men were nagged by my boss in such words for a long time. At that time, I had become a healer, so I didn't want to win honors on the battlefield. I just needed to cure the wounds sent to me. But I didn't expect that guys like you have adapted to the so-called modern civilization of mankind, the raven that brought disasters."

"Hahaha, raven... is such a nostalgic name, but what's wrong recently? Some people always like to turn it out afterwards, which has long been swept into the history garbage dump." Curt suddenly laughed, his laughter was quite low, perhaps not a laugh at all, "The blood of the crow was completely over when we died. I am just a 'iron' level mercenary Curt Ryanster from the Mercenary Management Office."
Chapter completed!