Organ rental company in another world

Dark red blood seeped out from the rubble between the two men, and the fear of death gripped everyone's heart like a giant hand.

Along the way, thanks to the team's superior combat strength, they hadn't suffered any casualties or even used a single potion. But now, with two Mithril-level enemies suddenly dead, the team's image of strength and safety has been shattered, and many people are starting to panic.

Mur's face was as white as a drowned corpse that had been soaking for three days. He had been closest to the adventurer who had been stabbed by the skeleton, and he had seen the scene most clearly.

An iron spear pierced the man's right rib and protruded from his left eye socket, squeezing out his entire eyeball.

"Lord Shared, shouldn't we..." Mur's voice trembled slightly.

"What do you mean 'should'? If you want to go back, then do as you please. It'll save you a mouth to feed." Shared glared at him with disgust.

Mur immediately backed down and stopped talking.

Going back alone now is not only unsafe, but also a wasted trip without any reward. He wouldn't do something so foolish.

Sharred knew the team was in disarray, so he raised his voice and said to them, "Don't worry, those two died because they expressed hostility towards the skeleton. As long as we behave ourselves, nothing will happen to us!"

After saying that, Shared turned to Felix and said, "Felix, bring their backpacks over and distribute them to everyone."

Felix nodded, picked up the two backpacks that had fallen beside the two pools of dismembered bodies, and took out the blood-stained packages inside to distribute to the others.

After this incident, Shared took out the notebook again, squatted back in his previous spot, and continued studying it, completely immersed in his own world.

Everyone else followed Shared's instructions and moved their weapons elsewhere, fearing that they might unconsciously touch them and be chopped into mincemeat.

Time passed slowly, and the sky gradually darkened.

The night in the underground city is different from the outside world. The gray mist on the dome has not completely turned black. Although the light is much dimmer, the surrounding scenery can still be seen clearly.

The castle's silhouette appeared even more sinister in the twilight, its black walls almost blending into the night, and its neatly arranged windows looked like countless empty eyes, coldly looking down on them.

They chose a larger pavilion as their resting place, while Tina chose a nearby pavilion to sleep in by herself.

The team members used their backpacks as pillows, lying on the ground chatting idly.

Sharred leaned against a stone pillar, holding up a ring inlaid with a fluorite lamp to examine the castle's structural diagrams he had memorized during the day.

Before he knew it, the surrounding conversations had stopped. Shared rubbed his eyes, closed his notebook, and fell asleep.

The clanging of bones from the patrolling skeleton soldiers, sometimes near, sometimes far, sounded incredibly hypnotic at this moment. Norn felt his eyelids droop and he drifted off to sleep.

He didn't know how long he had slept, but a bloating sensation in his lower abdomen pulled him out of his dream.

Norn opened his eyes groggily, and a salty finger was stuck in his mouth—it was his brother sleeping next door.

These people slept in terrible positions; some had their heads resting on others' chests, while others had half their bodies sticking out of the pavilion, their mouths wide open, with saliva bubbling rhythmically with their breathing.

Some people even lay on top of Sharred, their saliva staining the duke's son's collar.

Norn took his finger out of his mouth, spat it out a few times, then tiptoed over his tangled hands and feet and ran outside to relieve himself.

He chose a flower bed as his location, but noticed a figure standing beside it.

After squinting for two seconds, Norn recognized the person as Mur.

Is this guy here to pee too?

He stood there stiffly, one hand on his hip and the other holding a gun, his pants pulled down so that half of his buttocks were exposed.

His body suddenly shuddered violently, then he wiped himself clean with his right hand and put his pants back on.

Komur did not go back.

He just stood there, his head slightly tilted to one side, his gaze fixed on a certain direction.

Norn frowned and looked in the direction he was looking.

About twenty paces away from the flower bed, next to another flower bed, stood a slender figure.

Tina's long, dark purple hair almost blended into the background in the night, but her snow-white skin seemed to glow, standing out in the darkness.

She clearly noticed that someone was watching her, so she walked behind a flower bed and squatted down.

What they want to do is self-evident.

"You're such a pervert, you even watch girls pee."

As he spoke, Norn unzipped his pants and began to urinate.

Mur was startled by Norn's sudden appearance. Just as he turned his head to curse, he inadvertently caught a glimpse of Norn's genitals. His pupils contracted sharply, and the words he was about to say were swallowed back down.

"What? Are you envious?" Norn laughed.

"I... what do I envy? You're far inferior to me..." Mur said somewhat guiltily.

"Oh? Then take them out and compare?"

Knowing he was outmatched, Mur quickly changed the subject:

"Hey, what do you think of Tina? That woman is absolutely amazing! I've never seen anyone as beautiful as her."

A lewd smile spread across Mur's face, his eyes unfocused as he said, seemingly lost in thought, "If only she were weaker, then I could... hehe..."

Norn didn't want to talk to this repressed goblin any longer, so he flicked his head and peed on Mur's pants.

"What are you doing! How dirty is that!" Mur's lewd expression instantly turned into anger as he rubbed his pants against the flower bed.

"Without your heart, all you think about is this kind of thing all day long." Norn snorted coldly.

Instead of continuing their banter, Murr moved closer to Norn and whispered, "After she's done and leaves, do you want to come and have a taste while it's still hot?"

Norn frowned. "Fuck you, you're disgusting!"

"What are you pretending for? You must really want to taste the sweet juice of a purebred elf, right?"

"Get lost!"

Norn was utterly disgusted. He quickly finished urinating, hurried back to the pavilion, and fell into a deep sleep again.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

At dawn, a furious roar woke everyone up:

"Who did this! Who the hell did this?!"

Shared's furious voice echoed in the pavilion. His face was flushed red, and the veins on his neck bulged. He looked like an enraged bull.

The others groggily got up, looking at the shouting guy with some displeasure.

"Get up, all of you! Who did this?!" Sharred shouted frantically, pointing outside the pavilion.

People stood up and looked out in the direction Shared was pointing.

On the gray-black ground lay a pile of dark ashes, and through a few pieces of unburnt leather, one could identify them as backpacks used to carry supplies.

Someone burned the backpack under the cover of night!