Warriors will die if they charge.

The rainforest is mysterious and dangerous. Marcus, who used to live in the subtropical region of Earth, has the deepest impression of this environment as the sight of people dancing wildly in grass skirts and the rampant drug trade.

He was a local from Linhe Town. Although he rarely ventured into the dangerous rainforest and lived nearby year-round, his body was at least somewhat adapted to the humid and hot climate. The other four people, on the other hand, had been roasted like chickens by the scorching sun that had penetrated the dense jungle.

"Hang in there, friend, we're almost there." Carrying the heaviest salvage equipment, Marcus cheered on the resolute orc, Ohar.

He heard that orcs generally lived in the impoverished north, apparently because they had fought with humans long ago but failed and were driven to the mountains to live alongside dwarves.

As for the orcs, I've hardly heard anything about them.

Oha snorted coldly, picked up the water bottle and poured a large gulp of water into his mouth. When he raised his arm, the biceps muscles, as thick as a human leg, were clearly defined, with veins bulging.

This is a subtle way of implying that Marcus is not someone to be trifled with; the silver in the mines is far more tempting than the fact that he didn't smash your and the dwarf's heads in last night.

The journey was silent. The weight of the supplies and the heat had taken their toll on the team's spines, and apart from Marcus, no one wanted to waste their energy on conversation.

Card Hills, as its name suggests, is a cluster of banana trees laden with tiny fruits swaying gently beneath the tall canopies of heart-shaped trees, ebony, and palm trees, which resemble piles of cards. Scattered among the green can be glimpses of bright red, which are coffee trees with bunches of plump red berries.

coffee?

Marcus scratched his head, looking somewhat confused.

If the environment of Linhe Town is suitable for growing coffee, the economic conditions wouldn't be so dire. What Losela drank last night must have been coffee, which means that this world already has mature coffee-making technology.

Why not grow coffee? Tropical regions have so many suitable cash crops, such as coffee, cocoa, chili peppers, bananas... and even coca leaves, which could form a complete industrial chain.

A bad idea rose in his mind: unless someone monopolized these cash crops and strictly limited their output, forming a kind of cognitive monopoly, making people believe that only he could sell these cash crops.

Near the Card Hills, there are many hidden mines covered by vines and mud. Duncan has excellent observation skills and successfully led the team around the deep pit that could easily lead to the Devil's Land, and arrived at the location of the Gikara Mine.

Bardin took the blueprints and carefully observed the mine shaft, which was almost parallel to the mountain.

Outside the mine, on the muddy ground, lay several dismantled barricade stakes and the skeletons of goblins, swallowed by the rainforest. Clearly, a battle had taken place here not long ago.

Several pairs of scarlet eyes were pressed against the rock wall at the entrance of the mine, and the goblins were chattering and howling, filled with an undisguised fear.

Guga trembled, his slender fingers gripping a protruding rock.

"They're here again!!! Guga saw Soga's leg being stuffed into the red-haired woman's mouth!"

"Don't be afraid, don't be afraid!"

The goblin who inherited the name Soga looked at his legs to make sure they weren't stuffed into his mouth. Then he saw the dark brown-skinned orc looking in his direction, his bulging eyes bigger than eggs, and the two huge fangs protruding from his lower lip spewing out hungry white breath.

He grabbed his left foot and hopped like a one-legged chicken into the cave: "Soga only has two legs, we can't leave it to humans! Run, monster, run, we win!"

Marcus glanced curiously into the cave and asked Kelly, who had been there before, "What did you do in the cave that made the goblins so scared?"

"We fed them some fresh goblin meat, caught their tribe's female goblin, threw her into the water, and made a river feast."

No wonder.

Kelly smiled, looked at the slightly surprised Marcus, and teased, "I heard you used to work at the docks. Don't worry, if you get scared later, just shout it out, and I'll keep an eye on you."

Marcus gripped the handle of his battle staff at his waist: "I'm a warrior, after all."

"You, a warrior? You're a tough nut to crack." The orc threw down his heavy backpack, walked to Kelly's side, and looked Marcus up and down.

The difference in their physiques was roughly like that between a bear goblin and a goblin; no matter how burly a human man was, he would still pale in comparison to a muscular monster with orc blood.

"I could crush you with one finger. Just honestly bring us what we want, and the money you get will be enough to live a good life for a few years, dock warrior."

Once outside the town, the stray dogs' violent nature becomes as undisguised as the rising heat in the rainforest.

Marcus, who didn't consider himself a patient person, pushed aside the 60-meter-long cable, iron bar, winch, and pulley system he was carrying, and the heavy backpack fell to the ground with a dull, powerful thud.

He stared expressionlessly at Oha, who was half a head taller than him:

"I once smashed the head of a goblin with my war club. Hmm, he was tough; it took three hits to break his head. I haven't tried how hard an orc's head is. How many more hits can you take?"

Bardin muttered something but didn't say anything. He simply moved the battle axe hanging diagonally at his waist to a more convenient position.

Verbal disputes and conflicts of interest are not uncommon among adventurers. It would be strange if two temporarily put together teams had no conflicts at all.

Truly astute people will use this contradiction to more smoothly advance the task.

Duncan, who was tending to the campfire, quickly went to the two soldiers facing off. He pressed on Oha's chest and half-heartedly apologized to Marcus: "Sorry, Oha is a big oaf. I always advise him to talk less. All he does is spew nonsense and offend people."

Oha snorted coldly, looking like a stray dog ​​stopped by its owner, but Marcus could see clearly that when the guy turned around, there was not a trace of anger in his bean-sized eyes.

Kelly grabbed Marcus's arm and turned him around. Like a leader mediating between the two sides, she whispered:

"We'll need Oha's brute strength to pull the winch later, so I'll have him stay away from you and act as a human shield. But you should also keep a low profile and not use your comrades' heads as threats because of a joke."

Marcus and Bardeen exchanged a glance, both seeing amusement in each other's eyes.

In a deliberate test, the stray dog ​​was assessing the dockworkers' resilience. If they showed even a hint of cowardice, things would become complicated after the smelting furnace was retrieved.

This woman is more controlling than I imagined.

"Well, you should be worried that Bardin will crack Ohar's head open; the dwarf hates orcs the most."

Kelly looked at Bardin with a questioning gaze and received an ambiguous reply.

"I've killed many orcs and beasts, and I wouldn't mind killing one more, but silver is much prettier than their stinking heads."

Having achieved a favorable situation, they lit a campfire, ate some anacondas and large frogs they had caught along the way, and after a hearty meal, Marcus and Bardin started playing bridge.

Duncan, carrying a bottle of ale, intervened at the opportune moment, praising the two players' skills and saying he hadn't played bridge in a long time and asked if they could play together.

Marcus glanced at Duncan's right hand, which was missing its ring finger, and took the ale he offered:

"Don't try any tricks; playing cards is about attitude."