To be honest, in the environment of human society, Kron is not so comfortable. After all, even an Oak doesn't like to live a life of hiding his head, although they never doubted that the tightly wrapped guy around them was an Oak.
But one thing that makes Cron think humans are pretty good is that he won't get beaten for no reason - most of the time.
More importantly, Rozim is a very reliable boss in his opinion, and he doesn't need to worry about anything when following him to the mountain of swords and seas of fire.
Therefore, in his opinion, this action would also be as usual. Rozim would defeat the weirdos with his wisdom and easily defeat them all in one fell swoop.
This is true. After breaking through many obstacles, they found a gathering of wizards in a hall full of blood.
Kron hates the psychic boy very much, and naturally hates the psychic shrimp.
After a brief and fierce firefight, most of the members of the Secret Clan were on the ground. Several panicked survivors tried to escape along the corridor, but could no longer resist and were shot down one by one from behind.
"It went very smoothly. After fighting for so long, everyone is hungry."
Rozim used his chopping knife back into the sheath, and he twitched his nose strangely and gently. He often did this.
For a chef, even if he is deeply trapped in the most intense battle, he has to let go of what he is doing when he urgently needs to replenish some energy.
"Start fire! Get some food!"
"Ah, boss, this-"
Hank Evans looked around in a discomfort.
Blood, skeletons, demon totems, and corpses all over the ground are not like a good picnic place no matter how you look.
"Why don't you change the place?"
"The ghost place is the same everywhere. It's clean enough, but there is no activity stuff-"
Before Rozim could finish his words, the body of a wizard was ten meters away suddenly bounced on the ground, and a pink tentacle exploded from his chest.
The chef turned his head and shot it, turning the body and tentacles into ashes.
"Okay, it's gone now."
Hank Evans rubbed his head helplessly, took out the portable self-heating stove, and then the pots and pans.
Sinrata, who was still wearing sunglasses, sat on a stone, with her hands in her chest and a black knife in her arms, and she didn't know what she was thinking.
After destroying these wizards, he was no longer in a hurry.
Rozim took out a pile of half-processed ingredients and began to cook his plate stew, smacking his lips from time to time and muttering.
"It would be great if you had some wine, a mistake, a mistake..."
Cron was stunned for a moment. He remembered that he had noticed a kitchen when he rushed through the servant's dormitory and was sure that he could find it back there, perhaps—
When Rozim buried his head and started to season, he immediately sneaked to find it.
The messy layout of this underground space is a bit confusing, but he easily found the object of his exploration, just follow the scars caused by the battle. The potholes made by the laser on the wall, many burnt tapestries or occasionally scattered and complex inlayed tabletops all mark the way back to the entrance.
Most tables used to have glassware, but they were barely kept intact, especially around where broken grenades exploded, carpets were covered with scorch and walls and furniture were filled with holes.
Not long after, the luxurious furnishings gave way to the plain environment of the servant dormitory without any decoration. Although Cron did not expect to meet the waiters—most of them screamed and ran away as soon as the four appeared, and the guys who were not immediately overturned stayed with their filthy masters and soon became burping.
As a sophisticated technician, Clemma is certainly alert and ready to lift his bombing gun at any time.
The believers who survived the disaster were almost certainly all ran away, but maybe some people would hide, hoping to escape once the noise stopped.
Thinking of this, he finally saw the target, and the neatly arranged pots and pans were shiny behind a half-open door.
Just as he was about to go in, he hesitated for a moment and raised his ears.
There was someone talking inside, and the ups and downs of the voice were undoubtedly the rhythm of the singing.
"You are one gram, one gram, one gram, one gram..."
Kron didn't know what that meant, but there was no need to know that it sounded like something in subspace, not a good sign, and might even cause them trouble.
He realized that he would be better off stopping it now, and that he needed to use that kitchen, which was so bad that it was occupied by enemies.
Cron prepared his big gun and rushed behind the door, his eyes scanning left and right to look for the target.
He guessed right, someone was holding a sub-space ceremony: a tall, dark-skinned man was wearing a seemingly expensive robe and a lot of jewelry. While waving his arms, his lips were not idle and spitting out nonsense.
“……………ah↑↓ah↓ah↓ah↓ah↓ah↓ah↓ah↓ah↓ah↓ah↓ah↓ah!”
The loud and noisy man seemed to have a beast-like fire in his eyes. After looking up and seeing the unexpected invader, his mouth twisted into some strange appearance in disgust, as if he had just discovered that the soles of his shoes were stained with dirty things.
Cron pressed his fingers against the trigger of the big gun, but before he could pull the air between them burst open, it sounded-
Just like the biggest fart in the Galaxy.
And it smells almost the same.
In the blink of an eye, something covered with eyes, mouth and teeth stepped through the cracks of reality, whipped half a whip-like tentacle and whipped at him, and made a strange cry.
"Swoosh!"
"Kill this scum."
The disdain in the wizard's words can drip like the original matter on the newly revealed subspace creature.
"Dry!"
Kron also growled and grabbed the trigger of the gun.
The demon staggered back and wailed in pain, and a terrifying heat current broke it into two pieces in half.
This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading! Kren has been working hard for so many years, but it is far inferior to the real troubles he has encountered. When he followed the Bone Broken Army through the sub-space, he also saw a big guy with red wings, dozens of meters tall, and two heads and feathers all over his body.
According to his experience, the so-called subspace demon is not as difficult as Rozim said.
"Oysters, oysters~~"
After firing a few more shots, with a bang, the evil things in the subspace suddenly disappeared and were driven back to the strange realm that the psychics had torn apart.
Cron turned around and glanced at the rest of the kitchen quickly.
The psychic was still standing in front of the stove, with a look of astonishment on his face, muttering another string of mysterious syllables.
"Damn it, let me see what is in your brain! Become my puppet!"
The green witch fire rose from his raised fist. Kren felt something gently hit his head, so he stepped forward.
And the witch fire flashed, like a candle in the wind, extinguishing.
"Damn it! You are actually a green skin!!! How come there is a green skin here ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
"Go to die!"
Kron shot at the other party, and wiped the man's stunned expression.
Then he stepped over the convulsing corpse, carried the weapon behind him, opened a cabinet with his hands freed, searched for a while, found a black glass bottle and shook it.
There was a rustling sound in the bottle.
Then he pulled out the plug and smelled it, it was indeed wine.
Kron felt that he was lucky, so he took the bottle and returned to his original place.
"Where have you been?"
Rozim was pouring food into the plate, which tasted very fragrant, although it was messed up by the smell of blood around him.