In American comics, all your teammates are the main characters and bosses

Chapter 158: No Disposal Required

They opened the command vehicle like opening a can, and carried out Trauma International's security director and publicity director like carrying chickens.

His large hands directly grasped the necks of the two men, and he looked behind him. Facing the frightened and wary eyes of the crowd, Armstrong did not show even the slightest fear. Instead, he showed an undisguised and full smile.
"Everything can be discussed..."

The publicity director's horrified voice came from the side, but before he could say anything more, Armstrong exerted a little force with his palm, and with a click, Armstrong's arm instantly turned black, and with the hum of the nano heart, all the prostheses on the publicity director's body simultaneously made a crackling sound of ionization. Soon, along with the broken parts, leaping arcs of electricity rushed into Armstrong's body.

The publicity director, who was in Armstrong's hands, was unable to make any effective sound because his neck was broken. As the remaining energy in his life-supporting prosthesis was completely drained by Armstrong, and with a roar like a broken bellows, the light in the publicity director's eyes disappeared in an instant, just like a computer that was shut down, and all sound was lost with the sound of the remaining engine shutting down.

As the electric current dissipated from his neck, he hung his head and died on the spot, as if he had lost his voice.

The propaganda director, whose prosthetic energy had been drained out, was thrown aside. With the remaining force, his body rolled twice on the ground and finally lay horizontally on the ground, with his head twisted at a strange angle because his neck was crushed.

In this regard, Armstrong's mouth only showed a hint of disdain - too little, this world is indeed commendable in civilian technology. But unfortunately, the high-level military technology is simply not comparable to that of his own world.

The average combat capability of these guys present is not even as good as the lowest-level soldiers among the desperadoes - they have been trained since childhood, do not need too much self-awareness, only need a brain and an artificial spine, do not need food, and only need a shot of high-energy electrolyte to enable them to fight for three days and three nights without sleep, and they are absolutely loyal.

In comparison, although this world also has artificial spines, almost all of them are essentially tubes inserted into the spine rather than truly serving the purpose of warfare.

But it doesn't matter. After all, the essence of this world is that multiple giant companies compete with each other and check and balance each other. In order to expand their respective markets, their technological research and development must more or less consider civilian profits.

"Who are you?"

Armstrong sat casually beside the command vehicle, his burly figure looking unusually tall in the bright light of the morning sun. Although he didn't say much, his confidence and domineering attitude made everyone present nervously shut their mouths.

After hearing Armstrong's question, the security director couldn't help but swallow nervously. He felt that he was even more nervous than when he participated in the job interview of Trauma Team International.

After all, if the interview was rejected, I could just change to another company and continue to submit my resume. If it really didn't work out, I could be a middleman or a mercenary team with my own abilities and connections. But now, if I said one wrong word, maybe what was waiting for me was...

Not daring to think any further, the security director took a deep breath and said, "I am the security director of the Night City branch of Trauma Squad International."

"Security Director? Does that mean you are the leader of these soldiers?" Hearing this, the security director broke out in a cold sweat and quickly said, "No! No! I just... yes, I just followed this guy's orders!"

The security director ran to the publicity director in a panic, and while riding on his body and kicking him, he cried with tears in his eyes, "It's all because of this beast! It's all because of this coward! He said that if we don't launch an attack, the company's stock price will suffer! He forced me to do this! If I don't do this, all members of the security department will be out of luck!!"

After seeing this, even those who disagreed with Armstrong's theory and even felt that Armstrong was too violent began to despise the security director's behavior. Not to mention those far away, at the scene, more than one combat expert from the security department whispered in disdain.

The security director ignored all these voices and continued to curse as if he hadn't heard anything. He continued to punch and kick the corpse. As he beat the corpse, tears flowed uncontrollably.

If possible, who wouldn't want to be a hero? The security director wants to be a hero too - the Night City branch of Trauma Team International is the largest branch besides the headquarters. Here, as the head of the security department who controls the armed forces, it is not an exaggeration to say that he is second to none except the branch director. Because no matter how important other departments are, in this chaotic world, strength is the root of everything.

And now? It's all about survival.

The security director also knew that if he acted tough, there might be a chance of a turnaround. But he didn't dare to take the gamble - or, even if he was going to take the gamble, the fear in his heart made it impossible for him to act tough.

Instead of crying and resisting and expressing your toughness, it is better to just prove that you are a waste!

Seeing the cowardly look of the security director, Armstrong didn't care much, but simply clapped his hands and said, "Okay, get out of here."

"I...can we go?"

The security director looked at Armstrong in disbelief. Not to mention the security director, even the other security experts from Trauma Team International raised their heads.

According to the norm in Night City, they were all ready to surrender. After all, as the main combat force of a large company, their weapons and prosthetics were among the best in Night City, not to mention the entire world - well, the server strength in Night City was indeed more than one level higher than other regions.

Apart from those things in the sky, probably only Asian countries and the European Community can be compared with them.

In this situation, everyone can be said to be a walking vault. The prosthetics, accessories, and guns on their bodies can easily be sold for tens of thousands of dollars.

And now, can we just leave?
(End of this chapter)