Pierce frowned, put his hands in his pockets, lowered his head, smoked a cigarette, and his cheeks bulged, looking very worried.

Without realizing it, he walked back to the playground, and instantly everyone looked at him, with longing, pleading, confusion, fear and regret.

Booker's soft whine sounded like a bird that had just shed its shell...

"Pierce..."

Someone murmured something in a low voice and then closed his mouth.

Hiss…

I could only hear the sound of him sipping deeply on his cigarette. He walked up to Booker, knelt down, and slowly took out a cigarette. With the other's frightened eyes, he put it in his mouth and lit it for him himself.

He touched the little finger of his right hand and said calmly, "After taking this one, I will send you to see God."

snap…

The cigarette rolled out of Booker's mouth.

Pierce frowned slightly, as if saying to himself, "If you can't hold a cigarette in your mouth, what use are you?"

"Say! What else are you good for!"

He stood up and kicked Booker in the face, and he heard the sound of his nose breaking.

Ouch!

The latter screamed, but then it stopped abruptly. Pierce strangled his neck from behind, his face turned red, and he punched the opponent's temple rhythmically with one punch after another. He gritted his teeth and said, "Fake Squid!"

Why are you forcing me?"

Booker began to open his eyes.

"Hey, man, stop... stop it." A white man exclaimed. He wanted to stand up, but the priest, Canine and others who had been having an affair with Pierce for a long time stood up and pointed at each other, "Sit down!

sit down!"

Anyway, they already disliked Booker.

Comrade?

I treat you as my brother, why don't you show me your face?

Fuck you!

He deserves to die.

"Boss, that man is dying, should we..." Witte moved his steps and approached Mist. The latter turned his head and blew a puff of smoke at him, his voice was slightly muddy, "Why should we?"

Tube?"

"But this... kills people..." Wit frowned.

Mist wiped his forehead, put it under his nose and smelled it, and said, "Mercenaries are never just a few kids pretending to be adults. Since you want to make money, you must abide by the rules of this industry.

That idiot has no professional ethics. He wants more money? The boss sitting in the office dares to cross his legs and drink champagne and send him to see God."

So real.

Asking for a wage increase yourself is called greedy. The capitalists give you a wage increase because your utilization value and your ability to create benefits are much higher than your salary. From the beginning, you are just a toy of capital, but from the beginning, you are just a toy of capital.

Once you start to accept it, you have to respect his rules.

Mercenaries also have a contractual spirit!

Otherwise, why was it that when Saddam was chased by Yingjiang holding a fork from behind, all his guards dispersed and only a dozen mercenaries protected him? Although this guy was destined to burp in the end, that was

The gap in strength cannot be bridged.

Witte saw that Mist didn't want to intervene, so he could only sigh. Then he saw Booker's feet suddenly straighten, his eyes rolled, and his struggle gradually decreased.

This is...so cool

Pierce stood up with a gasp, sweat dripping from his forehead, going into his eyes, his eyelids fluttering, and he scanned these veterans condescendingly, "If you want to get out, just tell me, I don't want to be in a corner

If there is another person buried here, does anyone want to leave?"

The veterans were silent for a moment, and then someone raised his hand timidly, "I..."

Everyone looked at him. He was a man with a weathered face. When someone stared at him, his eyes became panicked and he lowered his head in a flash.

"Any more?" Pierce continued to ask with a serious face.

People raised their hands one after another, about seven or eight people, but most people here still understood what they were talking about.

money!

What can Tang Dao bring to them?

Money, dignity!

And this leaving is nothing more than losing courage in the wandering life.

Gradually it becomes nothing more than a walking zombie.

"Send them out." Pierce looked at the priest and patted him on the shoulder.

The priest lowered his head and breathed quickly, "Leave it to me."

"Everyone else, go back to the dormitory." Pierce yelled, and the veterans slowly stood up and walked towards the dormitory, but some of them kept looking back, looking very confused.

"Thank you very much." He walked up to Mist and said with a smile.

"Just a casual matter, do you want me to help you with the corpse?"

Pierce nodded, "Bury it."

He looked back at Booker, then dragged his slightly tired body away. To a certain extent, he was selfish, because Booker repeatedly disobeyed discipline, and in order to defend his position, Pierce had no choice but to kill him.

He felt that if God opened his heart now, half of it would be black.

…

The priest called the canines and mosquitoes, and drove two SUVs to send those who didn't want to stay any longer out.

There was no communication in the car, and the air was filled with a suffocating smell.

The car tires spread across the rugged desert area, and finally... someone discovered something was wrong.

"This... doesn't seem right?" a black man shouted softly, but neither the priest who was driving nor the co-pilot's canine spoke, which made him even more nervous. He stood up directly and was about to take action, but at this moment Canine came back,

Holding a Makarov pistol in his hand, "Sit down."

The priest stepped on the brake, stopped, pulled on the handbrake, and looked around, "It's right here."

"Get out of the car." Canine pointed, and then said to the other people in the other car.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Mosquito looked at this scene in disbelief, but the next second he was scolded by the priest, "I don't care about your business."

Everyone felt uncertain and got out of the car slowly.

Standing side by side in rows.

The tattoo on the priest's cheek was like a snake. He took out an MP5K submachine gun from under the car seat, with a cold face, pulled the trigger and fired!

When the priest took out his weapon, the people below knew what was going to happen. Some turned around and ran away, while some stayed where they were and cursed...

"Farke! Farke! What are you doing, bastards."

Mosquito's eyes widened and he jumped out of the car, trying to stop him, but he couldn't stand firm and fell down. He raised his head, opened his eyes wide, and looked at the scene in front of him in disbelief, his lips trembling.

Kaka…

The mp5k submachine gun jammed.

German products are so crappy. In Africa, if you drop a little bit of sand in them, you have to stop cooking. Just like American products, they are not nice at all.

The priest threw the submachine gun on the ground, took out the pistol from his waist, and fired again at the "comrade" who fell to the ground and was wailing.

"God bless you."

boom!

The bullet penetrated the opponent's skull and killed him instantly.

The mosquito crawled over on hands and feet, looked at the corpse, grabbed the priest's collar, opened his mouth and said, "Asshole, why did you shoot? Why did you kill them? Why!?"

The canine teeth were about to come up, but the priest suppressed them with his hands. He stared at the mosquitoes, "I think we should let them go back to being vagrants, sleep in the garage, eat the food thrown by the rich, and follow the wild people."

If dogs grab cheese, it is better to send them to death. Only God will have mercy on every poor person. This world is not friendly to the poor. Do you want them to go back to being dogs?"

"This is no excuse for you to kill them. Everyone has the right to choose life."

"Choose to be poor?" The priest smiled disdainfully and pushed the mosquito's hand away. "Do you think you are noble? Or are you compassionate? A ridiculous, naive and stupid idiot."

The priest doesn't want to go back to that damn red light district. He has ambitions. He wants to exorcise the beautiful blondes from the Screen Actors Guild!

He didn't bother to explain to the mosquitoes.

In this world, the cheapest thing is a man without money.

"Take him, let's go back." The priest looked at the mosquito kneeling on the ground, said to the canine, and climbed into the driver's seat first. Gerbacho almost dragged the latter into the car, and put the

He threw it back and sat back in the passenger seat panting, "It's heavier than a pig."
To be continued...