Chapter 845 - 124: Mercenary Squad (Supplement)

This sound was very faint, and if a human were listening, it would be easy to mistake it for the crashing sound of a crane outside the window.

The human ear has a high level of discernment within its receivable frequency range. In addition, Elliot had an artificial cochlea installed to prevent hearing system damage from factory noise.

With the AI-grade analytical capability, Lille could clearly discern:

There was something moving in the office building; someone was here.

Elliot nervously glanced around, reached out, and picked up a broken iron rod from the ground, which seemed to have fallen from a jack. It felt solid and heavy in his grasp, but he could still swing it—

He was fat and indeed not agile, but it wasn’t pure flabbiness.

Lille was very satisfied with this action; at least now he knew how to defend himself.

From what he saw on the European Union network, 90% of people in the European Union would first take out their phones to record when faced with such a problem, thinking of letting the police handle it...

The European Union has a total of five levels of crime, and any form of fighting can qualify as a level-one entry crime. This society does not support resolving conflicts with violence, and if someone gets hit and lies down, they indeed have a chance to claim considerable compensation.

But that is in normal circumstances; it was clear that Elliot understood he was not in a normal situation now: if something went wrong, he had to prioritize staying alive to think about anything else.

"What... should I do??"

[Lille: Hold the rod and go upstairs, I need to adjust your cochlea’s monitoring range.]

"But I can’t win in a fight..."

[Lille: I’m not asking you to fight, just to wait outside the door—]

[Lille: Act tough, be fierce.]

"Okay..."

Screech—

Dragging the iron rod, Elliot slowly walked toward the office making noise, the rod scraping against the ground with a piercing sound, announcing his approach to those inside the room.

The iron rod was dragged along the ground at first, then as he went upstairs, it made heaving sounds. Outside the factory, the Dragon Gate Crane was making rhythmic noises, which sounded like the heavy metal music most loved by the Vortex Gang...

Bang... Bang... Bang... Bang...

Following Lille’s directions, Elliot arrived at the door and banged on it hard!

Boom!

Crash!

Louder noises came from inside, like piles of cardboard boxes collapsing.

Elliot gritted his teeth, and apparently playing the aggressor gave him quite some courage. He shouted, full of breath, "The person inside... you are occupying the foreclosure property of the European Bank..."

"Get out!!! This is my house! My property!"

The voice inside screamed, startling Elliot!

If Elliot’s toughness was an act, then the voice inside was genuinely hysterical, even reminding Elliot of the cyberpsychotic Sylvan in the factory!

When he was startled, the indicators in his visual system all turned red, and Lille’s instructions appeared largely in front of him:

[Smash again!]

Boom!

"This isn’t your territory! It’s mine! I’ll come out and kill you right now, you homeless dog bastard!"

Boom!

Elliot kept pounding on the door. Without any combat experience, he had no sense of restraint. Adrenaline drove him to unleash all his might on the iron door, even splitting his palm!

Yet it was precisely this reckless banging that made a more overwhelming momentum, causing the voice inside to immediately change its tone:

"I beg you, I beg you, spare my life... I have nowhere to go! They’ll kick me out!"

Boom!

"Bastard! Old bastard! I’m just trying to survive!"

Boom!

"No! No! They’ll banish me to the wilderness, I won’t survive! I’m just trying to..."

Boom!

"Come on! Come in and kill me! Let’s see who kills who! You capitalist lackey!"

Clatter!

The inside noises were like metal cans toppling, footsteps approaching the door, and Elliot’s heart leaped into his throat—

The other side was about to burst out!

[Elliot: What should I do!!!]

Clatter!

The door swung open, and a disheveled man, with a ferocious expression, charged out holding a glass bottle!!

In his bluffing, Elliot’s mind went blank: his fierceness was just for show, and the other side might also lack combat experience, but he was seeing red!

The bottle got closer and closer to Elliot’s head, but Elliot, under the sway of adrenaline, stood there motionlessly, completely stunned!

Whoosh—

Boom!

A massive obstructive projectile swept through the air and slammed hard into the head of the charging man!

Plop.

The man’s body went limp, and the bottle, with a bit of remaining force, hit Elliot’s shoulder, feeling like a tap, not painful at all.

"Ha... Ha... Ha..."

Breathing heavily, Elliot looked at the object that hit the man: It was a type of law enforcement riot control projectile, intended to stop people without causing lethal harm.

Clearly, this rubber projectile had done its job, knocking the man out on the spot... likely causing a severe concussion too.

"Boss!"

Elliot turned to see three people in tactical jackets waving at him from downstairs, one still half crouched, maintaining a shooting stance:

The object was fired from the riot gun in his arm.

Lille appeared beside Elliot, supporting him to prevent him from collapsing to his knees.

Elliot grabbed the railing: "Who are they..."

"They’re people recommended by Sevens. I’ve already contacted the intermediary in your name. Regardless of their skill level, their responsiveness is pretty good; they arrived immediately after receiving the message."

"Alright... scared me to death..." Elliot calmed his mind and shouted to the people below, "Good job!"

...

"Boss, who is this guy?"

"I cross-referenced the data; he is the original user of this property. The online monitoring and police couldn’t find him because he was hiding in the warehouse..."

The disheveled boss was tied to the wall pipes, surrounded by the three fully armed mercenaries, providing Elliot with a great sense of security.

Two were brawny men, and one was a woman—even as a woman, she was half a head taller than Elliot, looking much sturdier.

"Good thing you arrived just in time."

The woman chuckled: "Of course, jobs require speed, especially since the typhoon drove the refugees away. We were about to take a loan to buy plane tickets to Lithuania, but didn’t expect to get work, and in the city too."

"Oh... truly professional..." Elliot replied with a smile.

But soon, he realized something was wrong: "Wait, you say refugees?"

The woman shrugged: "Yeah, refugees, the demand in the slaughter zone suddenly plummeted."

They were mercenaries who specifically worked in slaughter zones?

Elliot tensed up again: Mercenaries from slaughter zones might have dozens or even hundreds of lives on their bodies...

They were all killing machines!