Wizard: I brought the wrong system...

Chapter 349 Refugees

What direct connection could there be between running out of power and the copper tag being able to fly?

Yaro could not understand.

He couldn't even understand what principle allowed an ordinary solid bronze plaque to fly.

Is it magnetic force?

Judging from the sparks that erupted the moment the bronze medalist made contact with Heri, this is indeed a possibility.

But if it really is magnetism, why weren't all those metals in the lab attracted?

"While it's not very scientific, perhaps it aligns with witchcraft?"

Yaro had many questions in his mind, but no one could answer them for him.

"Heli, can it work if I just say 'come here' to this bronze pendant?" Yaro asked, preparing to experience the treasure's effects for himself.

The little girl took a deep breath, composed herself, and explained earnestly, "No, I've tried many times. I can get it to come over whenever I want, but it's hard for me to come up with the idea in my mind if I don't say it aloud."

The little girl's words were somewhat obscure, but Yaro roughly understood their meaning.

"Can you just think about it? Can you use language to organize your thoughts?"

"It's a bit like the incantation you chant when casting a spell."

Under the little girl's guidance, Yarrow tried many times, but he could not make the brass tag move at all.

Not only Yaro, but Bevan also tried, and there was no response.

"Only reacts to little Heliqi? A brass tag signifying her ownership?"

"Heri is just an ordinary person! With her meager spiritual power, how could she possibly activate a transcendent treasure?"

However, Yaro's spiritual power could not penetrate the bronze plaque, and he could not sense whether there were any strange magical patterns inside it.

"If it's in accordance with witchcraft, what kind of magical runes are at work, and when were they created? And who would dare to tamper with an ordinary bronze pendant, transforming it into such a wondrous treasure?"

Even if an extraordinary item that can be used by ordinary people is not very powerful, it is still a very valuable treasure.

After Yaro repeatedly and carefully questioned Heli, he finally learned the process by which the bronze tag changed.

"While the generator was being built, a bolt of lightning struck outside? And then the brass tag became different?"

This process gave Yaro a strange sense of déjà vu.

"Isn't this the same change that occurs when I measure the speed of light? Is this also what's called an 'anomaly'?"

When it was learned that this was also a product of an anomaly, many illogical questions finally had an answer.

"If we follow this line of thought, could the generator be my extraordinary reward?"

"What kind of amazing effects will the extraordinary reward I received from measuring the speed of light have?"

"Discovering the unknown, exploring the unknown...this world is so interesting!"

Unfortunately, there are always trade-offs. When many people possess extraordinary powers, it becomes difficult to find a peaceful and tranquil place in the world.

Yaro had no time to study these issues, and he didn't even have time to examine the 'generator' that might be his extraordinary reward in detail.

He told Heri to study the weight changes, range of influence, and strength of the "bronze tag" on her own, and then went to the storeroom.

……

The resilient weeds pierced through the soft soil and struggled to reach this world filled with gentle sunlight.

The next moment, however, it was ruthlessly pulled out by a weathered woman.

Several cracked chilblains ran horizontally across the woman's palms, the wounds pitch black, with faint outlines of pale metacarpal bones visible, which only made the clumps of grass stand out even more.

"Little Harry, eat up! The newly sprouted black cypress grass is soft and sweet."

Little Harry rubbed his bloated belly with his thin arms and grinned at the woman: "Aunt Sam, look at my belly, it's all fat. I'm not hungry, give it to my brother."

The woman carried a child who looked like a monkey on her back. The child's features were sunken and withered, like a skeleton. Its thin limbs hung limply at the woman's sides, swaying back and forth with her movements.

"Your brother... he will never go hungry again." The woman's face twitched as if she were smiling, but as she smiled, two lines of tears involuntarily streamed down her dry eyes.

The numb crowd stirred for a moment, some looking at the woman named Sam with suspicion.

"……oh."

Harry responded calmly, took the bundle of grass, chewed it casually, and swallowed it.

The cold grass clumps stirred his calm stomach, causing it to spasm involuntarily, and waves of acid surged up his throat.

The child stretched out his neck, like a duck being force-fed, his narrow neck visibly showing the repeated swallowing motions.

If a child has read books, he might be able to describe it as a burning pain in his stomach and esophagus.

If a child has ever drunk alcohol, he might say that it feels like drinking the strongest liquor in the world.

He knew nothing, but he was used to the feeling. He lowered his head and drank a few mouthfuls from the murky puddle by the roadside, forcibly suppressing the nausea.

"Aunt Sam, bury your brother. It's tiring for you to carry him."

Little Harry may not know much about others, but he has seen life and death many times, so he knows that the dead cannot be a burden to the living.

For some reason, he deliberately kept his voice very low.

Aunt Sam: "I don't have the strength to dig a hole anymore, I'll save this strength for walking."

Little Harry looked up at the woman: "Aunt Sam, then you can leave my brother aside for now. We'll come back and dig a hole for him when we're stronger."

"No, put him down, or those monsters will eat him!" Aunt Sam's attitude was very firm.

"Aunt Sam..."

Harry's voice was amplified, of course, this was in contrast to how loud it had been just a moment ago; it was actually just his normal speaking voice.

"Hmm?" Aunt Sam looked at the child who had stopped, puzzled.

"You can't bring a dead man with you," Harry's dark eyes were as calm as ice. "Dead men attract monsters."

His emotions were like two extremes.

When he was alive, that was his younger brother. Even if he was starving, he would give the food to his brother, even if he himself would starve to death later.

But if it dies, it's just a piece of trash, a poisonous creature that attracts monsters.

The lifeless refugees around them seemed to be suddenly awakened.

"Aunt Sam, how come you're not as sensible as little Harry?" A militiaman, armed with a worn-out weapon, criticized while keeping a watchful eye on the passersby.

"Look at our village, how many people did we have originally? How many are left now? If another monster comes, we won't be able to hold them off," a middle-aged man of similar age said, outlining the pros and cons.

"Sam, Sam, you're trying to kill us!" an elderly man cried out angrily, his fingers trembling.

(End of this chapter)