Who hid My Corpse!

Yes, no one knows the process better than Lair.

But precisely because of this, there are some questions he doesn't dare to think about deeply.

For instance, exactly how long ago did they act?

Is there really still time?

Lair took a deep breath and then released Harlow.

"Find my son, and we're even!" he stared intently at Harlow, "If you can't find him, I'll kill you!"

Harlow, just released, immediately breathed a sigh of relief and nodded repeatedly: "Of course, of course, even if the Black Merchants really acted on No-man's Land, they wouldn't dare to do it openly, otherwise, I wouldn't still be in the dark. And if it was only part of them, then there's still hope of finding him... We can definitely find him!"

Under Lair's murderous gaze, Harlow dared not say anything vague. After taking a deep breath, he took the lead and walked out.

"Come with me, we'll look for him now."

Ten minutes later, Lair followed Harlow to a warehouse he had visited just a few days before.

Separated by a few days, but his mindset was completely different now.

The first time he came, Lair was excited, contemplating when he could have a warehouse like this and do such big business.

But this time, all that remained was... an emotion he couldn't describe.

As he walked past those warehouses, he wanted to see every face inside, to find his son, but he didn't dare to meet any of those eyes.

Ultimately, he could only transform these feelings into anger and vent it on Harlow, who was leading the way ahead.

"Move faster!"

"Right away, right away."

Harlow continuously placated Lair, then quickly brought him to the guardhouse in front of the warehouse and knocked on the door.

"Who's there."

A familiar voice reached Lair's ears from inside.

Harlow announced himself, and the guardhouse door opened, revealing a bespectacled Black Merchant stepping out.

Indeed, it was someone Lair knew—Torre, who had had some grudges with him. When Torre saw Lair, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

Instinctively, he wanted to say something sarcastic, but remembering his previous defeat at Lair's hands, he held back and asked, "What's the matter?"

"Nothing big, nothing big."

Harlow stepped forward, seemingly to whisper with Torre, but Lair wasn't stupid and immediately stepped forward as well, just staring at him, leaving Harlow with no choice but to honestly present the issue.

"The trade of the No-man's Land." Upon hearing this, Torre guessed something, and he gave Lair a deep look, "It indeed happened."

Hearing this, Lair immediately stepped forward: "When did it happen?!"

"Heh, why should I tell..."

"Poof"!

Before Torre could finish his words, he was punched in the face by Lair, falling to the ground with his nose askew.

Torre was stunned: "You son of a..."

Lair mounted him, throwing more punches until Torre's face was covered in blood.

"This is your last chance!" Lair shouted, "Tell me what happened!"

Now Torre understood how Harlow got his injuries and quickly said, "I only know that this trade was jointly conducted by Contract Land and the Black Merchants."

"Where are they?!" Lair roared, "My son, wife, and parents, where are they?!"

"How the hell would I know..." Torre endured another punch and had to curb his temper once more, "Only children, no adults!"

... No adults?

Lair paused for a moment, then swung his fist again, shouting as he did, "You're lying!"

"Why would I lie to you?! There really are no adults! Only children... Can't you see for yourself in this warehouse?! Are there any children here?!" Torre, cornered and beaten, shouted back, "You yourself are a Black Merchant, don't you know only children fetch a price?!"

Lair's body began to tremble again.

No adults, only children.

Then where did the adults go?

...

"Just you wait! I'll be back soon, and I'll prove you're all wrong, all of you!"

...

In his memory, his wife's tear-streaked face turned into that of a corroded corpse, its features unrecognizable.

This made Lair feel as if an invisible hand was clutching his heart, making it hard for him to breathe.

Yet he forced himself not to collapse, grabbing Torre's collar and lifting him up: "And the children, where were they taken?"

"How should I know?"

Another punch landed.

"I truly don't know! You think this is a small transaction?! Do you know how many people are involved in this?! Do you remember every single piece of goods you sell?!"

Another punch.

"For God's sake, I really don't know! Even if you beat me to death, I... wait, wait, wait, there are records, there are records! Right behind me!" Torre said, "Every transaction is recorded, you can know the approximate time and destination. But these are top secret, not even a Gold Merchant can..."

Torre didn't finish his sentence. As soon as Lair saw the row of bookshelves in front of him, he delivered one last punch, knocking Torre unconscious on the spot.

Then he immediately stood up and rushed to the shelves, frantically searching.

His hands were already covered in blood, both his own and Torre's and Harlow's, but he no longer felt any pain, just kept searching, repeating to himself over and over.

There's still a chance, there's still a chance.

Lair, who came from No-man's Land, never believed in gods and was always proud of it, but now he hoped he could have something to believe in, otherwise, he wouldn't even know who to pray to now.

There must still be a chance.

His wife was gone, his parents were gone, his home was gone.

But his son was still there, so there was still hope.

But there were just too many records, and Lair flipped through several volumes without finding what he wanted, making him increasingly desperate and irritable, feeling like he was searching for a needle in a haystack.

And just then, Bai Wei's voice rang out in his mind: "Third row, second book from the top left."

Lair was initially stunned, then turned ecstatic.

Yes, yes, he wasn't someone without faith.

He believed in Lord Visas! And now wasn't Lord Visas here to help him?!

Lair immediately took down the record book Bai Wei had mentioned, his hands trembling violently, having to flip through it several times before it finally opened.

Don't worry, son, I'm coming to save you.

You'll be fine.

Your dad now has the capability, I've already made a fortune and become a servant of Lord Visas!

In the future, you'll be able to live in the outside world just like your dad, to have money and power! Not like those other children treated as commodities!

You will have a different life, you definitely will!

Lair roared in his heart, not knowing if he was speaking to the son he had never met or to himself.

Finally, he reached the page.

"No-man's Land XX Village, 13 boys, 11 girls."

"Destination: Rhein (Completed)"

"Trade date: February 26th"

Lair's body froze.

His eyes were fixed on the words "Completed," as if they were about to bleed.

How could it be like this? How could it be like this?!

The trade was completed a month ago...

A trade from a month ago meant there was no time to retrieve them, no one knew where they'd end up, as it was beyond the Black Merchants' control.

Lair's body began to sway, barely able to stay standing.

Why, why him?

He had worked so hard, just wanting to change his situation, to change his family's life, he just wanted to bring his family out of that sunless world.

What exactly... did he do wrong?

"Why..." Lair trembled as he murmured, "Not even giving me a chance?"

"Really, there was no opportunity given?" Bai Wei suddenly spoke.

Lair froze.

"That time, that place." Bai Wei said calmly, "Didn't it remind you of anything?"

Time... place...

Lair instinctively lowered his head, looked at the records again, and then his eyes gradually widened.

A month ago... Rhein...

That night.

That convoy.

The door he had personally opened and then closed.

And the stubborn yet desperate eyes of those children in the car.

With a "thud."

Lair fell to his knees, as if all of his vitality had been drained in an instant.

At the same time, the helpers Harlow called rushed in, hitting him on the back of the head with a club.

He collapsed in the pool of blood, staring blankly at the lightless night, as if back to that evening.