There were two great wizards who had the opinions of the authors. When the institute was built, Gret no longer protested when he saw the prisoners of war being tied up. He just stood at the door, and [Personal Observation] and [Detection Magic] took turns to open, pointing to the point:

"This is sick, send it to that row of houses."

"This one is almost dead, send it to the third row of houses."

“This is normal.”

"This... is the level too high? A knight or above will interfere with the experimental results! Take it there!"

"Hey! Don't hit it! - Injury will affect the experimental results! Don't hit it!"

"This...well?"

This seems to be a clergyman?

Do you need to lock up separately? Or ban his spell casting ability? Can pray, heal, and interfere with the experimental results...

Gret was busy and guided. On the other side of the door, Lynn held a notebook, brushed and recorded non-stop. Under his feet, Mr. Troca curled up in a ball and had already gained a lot of weight...

Diego was tied up with his hands by a thick straw rope, step by step, step by step, and walked to the gate of the institute with difficulty. With the shouts of the indigenous soldiers, he stood there in a string of ten people, waiting for the verdict of fate:

Is he going to die?

Will he die today?

One-eyed Ober died, and during that battle, he was killed by an indigenous warrior wielding an axe made of stone;

Golden Tooth Pablo died and was hit by a fireball falling from the sky, and was confused on the spot;

The idiot Donto was also dead. The guy who always screamed strangely, waved his steel knife, and jumped onto someone else's boat and slashed and killed. He fled into the jungle in a panic and stepped on a snake. When he was pulled up, he couldn't do it...

On one of their boats, from the captain to the sailors, fifty or sixty, only a dozen people, including him, survived and were escorted to the underground cell by the natives.

Within a few days, their captain, sailor and first mate were dragged out. Their boat was full of plans and the three strongest...

The captain and the others never came back.

The carpenter on the boat, the only person on the boat who could speak a few indigenous words, tentatively asked the guards. The answer he got was, "Oh, they were sent to worship the gods!"

"Sacrifice to God?"

"It's just being eaten by God!" The guard grinned, under the swaying torch light, his black and yellow teeth were extremely creepy:

"It's just for the gods - drag it to the top of the pyramid, cut open the chest with a knife." He gestured in his chest and sneered very maliciously:

"Dig out the heart, chop off the head, smash the head, lift the skull and reveal the brain. Blood is used with corn cakes to make food for the gods... Don't worry, it's yours in a few days!"

Some people in a cell fainted on the spot, some yelled like crazy, and some hit the wall... They would rather die in the cell than in the mouth of the evil god!

If you are eaten by the evil god, you will not be able to ascend to heaven or return to the Lord of Glory!

However, Diego did not seek death.

It’s not that I feel that someone will come to save him, nor that I’m expecting any chance to turn around. But because he still has a younger brother!

His poor brother Donner, two years younger than him, was weaker than him. He stumbled behind him since he was a child, followed him to herd sheep, pick up firewood, and rushed up together when fighting with other boys. He was beaten to the point of bleeding and did not retreat...

Later, they boarded the boat together, went to the New World together, and became pirates together. They followed the captain to the Eagle Country together, and then fled together in a panic.

My younger brother broke one of his arm and was bleeding. He couldn't steal the food from others, but he didn't die - he couldn't die either!

Like him, there were still seventeen or eighteen people in their cell. They were imprisoned for a day, day after day, and finally, they were dragged out, ten of them in a string, stumbled and rushed out of the city.

After two days of hard trek, it turned into a more difficult mountain climb. The weather was not hot, but the sun was hot. After only two days of sunshine, layers of skin burst out on Diego's face, and blisters even appeared in some places.

Fortunately, the people who escorted them were quite ruthless, or at least they had the goal of keeping them alive. Walk for a while, stop and let them lie by the stream to drink some water; walk for a while, stop and throw a tortilla from each person.

If you walk slowly, you will scold, kick and whip, but you will not beat people to death...

Diego then helped his younger brother, brought him water to drink, handed him the corn cake, and pulled him up when he was about to trip. These days of imprisonment and high-intensity trekking made Donner's arm swollen even more, and he began to have a fever and talk nonsense.

Many times, Diego had to drag him hard and drag him away, and avoid hitting his brother's broken arm. It would be better to go to the place, and hoped to go to the place to get better. Since he wouldn't kill them before, he wouldn't kill them now...

Stumbling, stumbled, went uphill and downhill, and finally reached the destination. Someone pointed and picked out some people from them, while another soldier stood by the side of the team and raised the stone knife-

brush!

brush!

brush!

One by one, the straw rope that connected ten people was cut off. Some were led to the left, and some were led to the right. Donner was picked out by the man at the door and pointed to the side-

"Donner! Donner!"

Diego rushed up, but was kicked over by the warrior next to him and stepped onto the ground. Suddenly, the person who picked Donald out "um" and hooked his finger:

A white light fell. Donner's moan stopped immediately, his red face slightly relieved. Diego breathed a sigh of relief, and then he was terrified again:

pagan!

Pagan spellcaster!

The pagan devil!

Before he could think of what to do, Donner had been pulled up and pushed to the pagan spellcaster. The spellcaster narrowed his eyes slightly, looked up and down, and waved his fingers again-

Then, Donner was pushed to Diego, and was pushed and shoved into a deep passage with five or six people in the team.

"You! You! You! Go in!"

"You! Go in!"

One by one, or three or five, were stuffed into different rooms. This time, the two brothers were roughly separated and stuffed into two adjacent rooms. The moment before the iron door was closed, Diego rushed to the door and shook his strength:

"Donner! Donner! How is it here? - How are you going to treat my brother?"

"I'm fine here!"

After a moment, the sound of my brother shouting hard came through the thick walls:

"They locked me up in a single room... There was an indigenous person next door, but he and I were separated by iron railings and could not hit me..."

Diego breathed a sigh of relief. Only then did he turn his eyes and look around:

There was also an indigenous person in this room who was locked in a pile of straw in the corner of the wall, his face was burning red, and he looked very uninspired. There was a water jug ​​and a shallow pottery bowl in front of the straw.

A wooden barrel in the corner, maybe, maybe, is used to collect excrement?

There is no iron railing or any obstacle between the two, and the distance can be passed by just lifting your legs.

"You! Feed him water! Feed him! Take care of him!" With a clang, a small window half a foot high opened at the bottom of the iron door, pushing two clay pots without any pattern. A can of water, a can of corn and pumpkin mixed with a paste, which seemed to be barely enough for two people to eat.

Another clang, the window closed back, locked it, and outside the door, someone shouted loudly:

"He died! You died! He lived! You lived!"

???

Put us together just to let me take care of that native?

In this case, why do we have to travel for so long and go from the city to here? Isn’t it better to find a place next to the city?

Diego was completely confused. But his life and his brother's life were here, so he could only honestly roll up his sleeves and work. He fed the native water, and used straw to dip his forehead to prevent him from burning to death...

Different situations occur in a row of houses, with different prisoners of war. Some prisoners of war were locked up in a room, separated from the sick natives by iron railings, and the breeze kept blowing from the natives to the prisoners of war;

Some prisoners of war were locked up with sick natives;

Some prisoners of war were locked in a room alone, with airtight rooms, but there were clothes and excrement worn by the natives;

Some prisoners of war were injected with the blood of sick natives - those who had just started to have a fever; those who had relieved the fever; those who got burned again, became severe and even began to vomit blood in large mouthfuls; or those who gradually began to recover;

Some prisoners of war were separated from the sick natives with iron railings. The breeze blew from the prisoner's side to the natives. Mosquitoes, fleas, bed bugs or lice were quietly placed in the room...

Each project ranges from five groups to ten groups. Level 1-2 professions, level 3-4 professions, knights or above, and rare spellcasters. People from the Glorious Vatican and indigenous prisoners of war captured at the foot of the mountain are all available.

Grett designed the experimental plan as comprehensive as possible. Anyway, he was not short of prisoners of war, right?

"No wonder you can research chickenpox and rabies vaccines." This was the first time Master Hines observed Gret's research method up close. After reading it, he was amazed:

"The experiment was designed so comprehensively that I couldn't even think of a better way - by the way, what do you plan to deal with these prisoners of war when they are used up?"

"They must be cured!" Gret answered without thinking:

"It's too much to use them to do experiments. After they get infected, they must be cured! Well... After the cure... it's impossible to hand it back anyway. If all the cured people, it's so strange to take them to sacrifice to the gods!"

"That's fine, there are many other experiments to do in the future." Master Hines nodded in irresistible. After thinking about it, he smiled:

"By the way, have you figured out what name to give this institute?"

"ah?"

Grett really never thought about the Institute? Isn’t this the entire Eagle Kingdom, or even the entire New World? What name should I have to give?

When it comes to "the Institute of the New World" or "the Institute of Tropical Infectious Diseases", it should refer to this one! It is necessary to name it to distinguish it, and that is all the matter of latecomers!

"I didn't think about it? Then how about I'll give you one?" Master Hines continued to jokingly. Gret looked at him vigilantly:

What name do you think of?

Black Crow Swamp Research Institute?

Plague Institute?
To be continued...