Human dimension reduction

The thick wooden door was pushed open, and the wind and snow outside the house blew away the heat. Richard, who was sitting in front of the fireplace, suddenly shivered. Petrosa, who was going to open the door, had already been kicked in front of him. .

The whistling wind was blocked from the outside by the closed door, and the atmosphere in the small wooden house was frozen and heavy.

The man standing at the door has a tall figure of nearly two meters, his back is as thick as a beer barrel, and there are many scars caused by sharp objects on his dark arm muscles. A face occupied by beards is exposed under the felt hat. On the dirty long coat, it looked like a fat and bloated brown bear broke into the place, instantly making the whole hut look more crowded than ever before.

He took off the broken felt hat on his head, wiped the wet snow from his shoulders, looked around the wooden house slowly, went to the window and lifted the curtain to observe the wind and snow outside, then walked to the fireplace He flicked the firewood inside, then sat down on the low wooden bed, and kicked the slush on the bottom of the boots indiscriminately.

When he assumed the master's posture and inspected the wooden house, the corner of his eyes was fixed on the two slender children, and the cloudy blue eyes were squeezed by the muscles of their faces. A light full of greedy joy.

"Two noble bastards... where did you escape from? The guards there must be pissed off now, but I don't care hahahahahaha! Smart little bastards... but don't even think about it if it's in my hands Run away, you bastards who have had enough of delicacies, my lord? Huh? I know you, tsk tsk, make bread with gold, bathe in fine vodka every day...

"Your pussies are all thin and tender, and they are smoother than lambs. When I sell you, I can buy two of them—I'm not interested in beating you, anyway. I'll be the one to lose if I'm beaten to death, so you guys, you'd better be obedient. Now, come here, and take off my boots."

His action of entering the door was extremely rough and brutal, he kicked him into the door almost as soon as he realized Petrosa's identity, Richard instinctively reached out and hugged Petrosa's upper body into his arms , the boy with blue-gray eyes lost consciousness for a moment, and soon bent his body in the soft embrace of the child, biting his lips tightly.

"Peja? Peja?!"

Richard put his lips against Petrosa's ear, called out the other's name in a low and hasty manner, wiped the sweat from his forehead with his hands, and listened to the bear-like man finish a series of rude words, and then Step forward with both feet.

"Honorable lord—'please' come and take off my boots," the man repeated himself in funny language, and then he laughed. He seemed to find this game very interesting. With some unspeakable pleasure, he looked at the poor brothers through his eyes under swollen lids.

"Brother, and brother, no doubt, yes," he said to himself. "Oh, dear, what a pity to escape and meet the lucky Ivan! I thought this tour was a hard job." I didn't expect to pick up two big treasures! That damned Westerly, he's going to be jealous of me now."

While speaking, he squinted his eyes, stepped on the floor hard again, and motioned for the boots on his feet.

[Lonely wooden house, lack of food, precarious living environment - and bad guys who broke in suddenly, big crisis!Your choice determines the bonus of Petrosha's favorability towards you. If you make a wrong choice, it may lead to an extremely bad ending.

a. Comply with the request of the other party first, and then wait for the opportunity to escape.

b. He who understands current affairs is a hero. Of course, he should surrender quickly and try to see if he can become a glorious leader.

c. Fuck him. 】

Not to be outdone, the dialog box popped up to update the plot. Richard glanced at the three options, but ignored them as usual.

Let's not talk about the effects of these options, just the phrase "favorability bonus" in it is enough to make Richard feel speechless.

He needs a game to teach him how to gain the favorability of others?

What's more, in this game where the progress can be reset anytime and anywhere, what's the use of increasing the NPC's favorability?Is there anything he can't do by himself and has to use npc to do it? ——Oh, I forgot to mention that the way to reset the game is to kill Petrosha.

Although this method is a bit rough, judging from yesterday's experimental results, it is still very economical.

Petrosa seemed to want to speak, but was stopped by a series of coughs. His face was pale and bluish, his blue-gray eyes drooped, and his long eyelashes fluttered feebly like the wings of a dying butterfly. With his head pressed against his lap, a pair of green eyes looked at the uninvited guest who called himself Ivan.

"He's not my brother," his first sentence cleared the relationship between Petrosha and him, causing the coughing Siberian boy to be silent for a moment, and then the coughing became a little louder. , Richard stood still, "I rescued him casually on the road, if you want to catch him, catch him."

It was quite ruthless to sell teammates' remarks, and even Petrosha was a little caught off guard by the speed of this turnaround.

This is not over yet, the child with baby fat on his cheeks started to output to his side crazily: "Sell him, and there are many nobles where he ran out, I can help you trick them out, anyway, no one else Knowing that you did it, you can earn one."

Ivan was dumbfounded.

He had already figured out how to slowly repair these two noble boys, and was just waiting to see them kneel at his feet crying and begging for mercy. Why did one of the boys suddenly start talking to him about business?

Damn it, he was actually moved!

As I said before, the rebel army is different from the revolutionary army. They are all low-level bastards who follow behind the big troops to take advantage of them. To catch nobles on other people's land, but if those gentlemen come to him by themselves...

One hundred rubles!What's more, more oil and water can be squeezed from those masters, and if there are female relatives with delicate skin and tender flesh, it will be a big deal...

Ivan couldn't help but began to fantasize about his happy life of becoming rich and embracing him.

"You said you saved him? You hate him too?" Ivan still retained a bit of reason.

Richard lied without changing his face: "Yes, I rescued him and wanted him to take care of me, but you see, he is sick and has a fever, and he may die soon. I can't live with him at all. I will go with you if you will give me bread and a stove."

Petrosha's coughing stopped, and Ivan looked at him. The cub seemed to be aware of his fate, cowering and curled up there motionless. His golden brown hair covered his eyes, and he was thin all over his body. Skinny and skinny, he looks like a short-lived ghost.

If it weren't for his clean body and valuable clothes, Ivan would not have recognized his noble status, but since the revolution began, the fallen nobles everywhere are not much better, and the unlucky ones who didn't die were put in bridles rushed to work in the fields, while women were imprisoned in the manor,

The young masters have become slaves, it has become so miserable.

Ivan made up his mind, and it's not impossible to keep this little brat temporarily: "If you can do what you said, then I won't sell you, and you will be my slave in the future."

Because of the interruption of this incident, he didn't ask them to take off his boots again. He made a few random moves, threw the boots on the ground, and fell his fat body on the bed, not caring about the greasy bed that exuded a strange smell. Blanket, in front of the warm fireplace, snoring loudly within a moment.

In his heart, one of these two noble cubs has a thigh that is not as thick as his arm, the other is dying of illness, and is not as dangerous as the elk on the snow. Come on, no one who is dead will leave this shelter and run out.

After he fell asleep, Richard lowered his head and glanced at Petrosa, who was nestled comfortably in his arms, showing no intention of getting up.

"Who taught you this set of words?" Petrosa was sure that Richard would not be able to think of such an argument. Although the behavior shown by this child was profit-oriented, it was not so absolutely rational and cold. For the sake.

Before asking the question, Petrosha already had a conclusion in his mind.

"My brother taught me. He taught me several different ways of saying it. Just use it when it meets the right situation." Richard's answer was not what he expected.

A person who can play rules and people's hearts to the extreme, Petrosha thought, if he went to the Winter Palace to take office, he might be able to turn the Tsar into his own puppet.

"Then what are you going to do now, go with him?" Petrosa asked softly, slight expectations appeared in his blue-gray eyes, his pupil color was very beautiful, the light blue-gray edge had a metallic texture , but not completely clear, this color is easy to look dirty, and the bluish edge makes it more gloomy. The story is frightening and fascinating at the same time.

A passionate poet should spare no pen and ink to offer long and gorgeous poems to his eyes.

"My brother told me that it's best not to choose among the options others give you, because no matter what the options are, no matter how you choose, the result will definitely be beneficial to the other party." Richard answered irrelevantly.

"What does Pejia think I should do? We are weak people who have absolutely no ability to resist."

"Your brother educated you very well, but didn't he teach you how to judge whether a person is weak? Richard?" Petrosa laughed softly, and he whispered, "The Lord shepherds him All people under the Lord are the weak who He treats equally, and human beings distinguish between the strong and the weak after birth, and use the stronger to shepherd the weaker, so that people can survive.”

"Essentially speaking, it is actually the dazed lambs in the wilderness who offered their freedom to the shepherd. From now on, as long as they follow the flag, they can get enough bread. After that, the shepherd invented the whip and elected the leader Sheep, etc., by generating rights and classes, a society in its basic form emerges."

"Such a system is designed to allow all dazed lambs to obtain the same happiness, but now there is a small problem. Some people have distributed those precious and cheap freedoms to all the lambs, trying to make them seek their own paths. And so chaos ensues."

Petrosa's speech was fast, and his gentle flick of the tongue was lingering. When he recited the words of the heavenly father, he looked serene, completely like a martyr who was willing to die for it.

"What we are encountering now is such a lamb that has been freed. It has a power that it has never had before. The leaders and shepherds that were on its head before are gone, so it thinks it is invincible. Yes, the entire pasture is owned by it, its mind and body are unusually free, it can show its teeth and shake its fist at everyone—"

"Richard, tell me, do you think this stupid lamb is a strong man who can control us? Is what it thinks correct? Is this chaos justified?"

When he said this, he quietly stood up from Richard's arms, walked to the side of the sleeping Ivan as if strolling in a garden, and bent down to look at the man as if looking at something novel.

But Ivan was still snoring unconsciously, scratching his bulging stomach from time to time with his fat, sausage-like fingers.

Sitting by the fireplace, Richard realized something, and asked softly, "Then what does Peggy think should be done?"

The same question as before, they knew each other well, and they were not talking about the same thing at all.

"Too much freedom will frighten weak lambs, because freedom is such a terrible thing, it forces stupid lambs to think and make decisions, and what's worse is that they never know the direction they decide to move forward. There isn't enough bread, and it's too easy to kneel before the shepherds."

Petrosa patiently expressed his arguments to Richard, and finally came to a conclusion: "So the Lord spared people from the fear of freedom, He sent messengers to shepherd the world, hold the torch of freedom, and lead this A flock of poor lambs marches on. To unite all beings in happiness, rule them with indisputable power, and let the pastures of the world be eternally peaceful."

At the same time, there was a cold light of a metal sharp object in Petrosa's clenched palm. It was the iron spoon he had been holding in his hand. Since he went to open the door, this inconspicuous little thing has been quietly waiting. in his sleeve.

"The Lord makes the capable man suffer because of freedom, and thus makes the foolish lamb live in peace forever. He is the wise one, and whatever he says will be fulfilled."

As his words fell, the sharp handle of the iron spoon went up and down, piercing Ivan's neck hard.

Ivan, who was suddenly attacked, opened his eyes suddenly, and he stretched out his hand to grab Petrosa's hand, but this noble bastard who he didn't pay attention to was obviously more vicious than him, and more than half of the handle of the iron spoon was sunk into the flesh and blood , the pierced carotid artery pumped out scalding blood, and a strong fishy smell instantly spread throughout the cabin. Ivan opened his mouth, and there was a gurgling sound in his throat, and frothy blood gushed out of his mouth out, staining Petrosa's hand red.

The slender boy coughed and recited the eulogy in a tone full of pity, but the hand holding the murder weapon was very steady, and even avoided the blood that was rushing too fast: "... the Lord wishes Give rest to the sinless Lamb, and in His tolerant arms you will find eternal peace..."

Ivan's fingers drew horrific bruise marks on Petrosha's wrists. The bearded man struggled for only 2 minutes before he kicked his legs and swallowed his last breath. The blanket was full. Warm blood, the man's eyes were still wide open, almost coming out of his sockets.

Petrosa waited until he was completely out of breath before reaching out to pull out the increasingly bent iron spoon. His snow-white and handsome side face was spattered with a lot of scarlet blood, and his sleeves and chest were also wet and slippery. It was a viscous liquid, but his expression was unusually serene and gentle, as if a saint walked in suffering and saved a suffering soul.

"Look, Richard, a lamb is a lamb, and the Lord will never allow it to be our shepherd."

This young man with the color of a religious martyr opened his hands, showing a holy and compassionate smile.