death of hope

Chapter 38 "Flying Windfall" (38) Captain Dyson

"The few people chatted while drinking, talking about everything, from cars to cigarettes, from guns to rugby, and to women."

"I've been unpopular since I was a child," Robert pointed to his face, "The pimples are too severe, and there are white pustules, like a volcanic eruption before the eruption, full of pus .”

"Oops! Fuck! It's disgusting!" Ferguson put on a look of disgust, and the gang members of Black Command glared at him.

"That's the right reaction. To be honest, even I hated myself at the time." Robert continued to say indifferently:

"The girls in the neighborhood have nicknamed me a lot, like 'Crater Robert' and 'Pumpy Robert', not to mention beautiful girls, even Marlene, who is dark and fat. Na doesn't even want to talk to me."

"Damn puberty! I know that feeling, it's so fucking painful, like shit on my face!" Donnie touched his face, feeling a little bit empathetic.

"After puberty, my skin returned to normal, but because of the poor conditions at home, I wear shoes with open toes. Even in poor neighborhoods, I am a well-known poor household. Of course, I still can't find a girlfriend. It has been like this single.

I was discriminated against in my childhood, and I had such an energy in my heart that I wanted to get ahead by whatever means.

After becoming a street kid, he started to work desperately, established the Black Command, became the boss, his wallet became bulging, his appearance didn't matter, beautiful women became easy to get, no need for me to talk nonsense, and he threw himself on his body . "

Retired boxer Dyson seemed to recall some painful past, his facial muscles twitched violently:
"When I was at the peak of my career, I also hugged left and right, but now, there is no one left.

Guys, I advise you to stay away from vulgar girls who worship money. If you are down and out, these femme fatales will not share the joys and sorrows, and will sprinkle salt on your wounds. "

"I also want to find that kind of good girl who doesn't dislike the poor and loves the rich, and who shares weal and woe, but unfortunately I don't have fate." Robert patted Roy on the shoulder suddenly:

"This kid is the luckiest."

When he was proud of life and in a happy mood, he drank to his heart's content. After drinking a few glasses of spirits, Robert swayed from drinking, was helped up by his younger brothers, and waved to everyone when he was about to go out:

"Keep going, buddies, I'll take a step first, and we'll meet again when we have time, old neighbors."

The boss left in a car, and the gangsters from the Black Command followed suit. A group of thirteen and fourteen-year-old children climbed onto the boxing ring, put on their gloves, and started playing.

Roy felt that his nervous system had been paralyzed by alcohol. Although he was not drunk, he seemed a little sluggish. Dyson was not drunk at all, which was evident from his drinking capacity.

"I envy you, macho, you have a good liver." Ferguson lifted his clothes, revealing the incisions left by the organ transplant operation: "Unlike me, I have to get an artificial liver."

"Athletes' livers must be much stronger than ordinary people's."

Dyson shook his head: "That's not the case. Even self-disciplined professional boxers have cases of liver cancer. It's better to drink less."

Downey looked around, most of the people in the basement had already left, only the children fighting in the ring, a few old neighbors and a few people from the old lame bar remained:
"It seems that even if this matter is over, there will be no more protection fees, the streets have returned to calm, and the hosts have withdrawn, let's go too."

"Drink this bottle of honey grapefruit tea before you leave. This thing is a hangover, so don't waste your time, big man."

"As long as the client agrees, I don't care. I will take it as a paid vacation. I don't want to go back to the base anyway. I will be annoyed when I see my boss." Dyson put his strong arms on the table, his eyelids drooped, and his expression was a little bit exhausted.

"Macho, don't you like this high-paying job?"

"I hate this job and leave when I make enough money."

Donnie couldn't understand: "What a cool job! It's so fun to wear high-tech equipment and play around everywhere!

I want to do this even in my dreams, to be a special soldier who fights against violence and security, with real guns and live ammunition, pull the trigger, da da da!Sweeping with a shuttle and bleeding, it is much more enjoyable than VR shooting games. "

Dyson turned his head: "You have played too many games."

"Don't pay attention to him! Haha!" Ferguson laughed loudly: "This guy is a dead fat house."

Dyson tapped the holster on his arm belt;
"The profession of company security has nothing to do with violence and security. We only serve the rich.
It doesn't matter how villainous or jerk the client is, we'll help him survive and let him get away with it as long as it doesn't conflict with the interests of the company. "

Having said that, Dyson's face was full of pain and ferocity. Although his expression quickly returned to normal, Roy still keenly captured this moment:

"You must have experienced something, and you are suffocating in your heart."

"Sorry, I don't want to talk about that."

"Don't be nervous, friend, look here, there are no powerful people, they are all ordinary people, and you won't get into trouble if you say it."

Dyson picked up the cup, poured half a cup of honey citron tea in one gulp, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand:

"Have you ever heard of cyber psychosis?"

"Of course I know. It's said in the news every day that after undergoing a lot of prosthetic transformations and implanting chips in the brain, I can't tell whether I'm a human or a machine. I'm completely violent and dangerous." Downey said.

Dyson clutched the empty cup and fell into memory:
"That was the tenth mission I led the team on, it was an easy mission.

Everyone took off their helmets and chatted, and escorted the customer back to the flight. Suddenly, two holes were broken in the windshield, and the pilot and co-pilot were shot dead.

A stranger with a samurai sword appeared in the cabin. His blade seemed to be invincible, and he mercilessly killed five of my teammates. The customer jumped into the sinkhole and survived.

That night, I walked into the morgue, unzipped the plastic body bag, looked at the pale faces of my teammates, and choked speechlessly.

We trained together, we went through life and death together, and we were like brothers.

When I saw the smiles hidden in the crying faces of their families after receiving their pensions, I broke down.

Is the value of people can only be measured by money?I can't accept it at all.

Holding back this breath, I secretly determined my belief in revenge.

Taking advantage of the work-related injury vacation time, I found out the nickname of the enemy——

"Cold Steel" (Cold Steel).

I collected information about this person through old friends in the boxing circle, and only then did I know that he is a cyberpsychopath.

This person is exceptionally gifted and extremely tenacious. He has undergone 142 moral transformation operations. Except for the brain, lungs and spine, almost all of his body has been replaced with mechanical parts, while ordinary people will die after seven or eight operations.

Because the nanomechanical artificial blood and smart chips interfered with the activities of the brain, he could no longer remember his human identity,
He simply abandoned his memory and his name, and registered as a bounty hunter specializing in dirty work. With his astonishing achievements, he became the legendary hunter 'Cold Steel'. "

(End of this chapter)