Leicheng, the suburbs, restaurants.
Aslan Khalifa picked up the warm sandwich and opened his mouth to take a bite. There are clear tooth marks on the whole wheat bread, peanut butter and gravy and butter, and the deliciousness spreads on the tongue.
He chewed twice, frowned tightly, and then raised his eyes.
Wherever he looked, the people in the entire restaurant trembled and lowered their heads for fear of being noticed by him.
But Aslan didn't give them another look. His gaze shifted to the face of the trembling waiter behind the counter: "I said I want Thunder brand peanut butter, but this one is obviously not."
"Sorry sir..." the waiter said boldly, almost crying, "but my thunder brand peanut butter is sold out today..."
"Really? That's too bad." Aslan shook his head, "It seems that your life is also used up."
He directly raised the gun and pulled the trigger.
A shuttle of bullets swept out, and the poor waiter was instantly beaten into a sieve. Immediately after the muzzle turned, the restaurant was splashed with blood, the tabletops were beaten to pieces of wood and debris, and the windows were blown into countless pieces with continuous clanging sounds.
The magazine was emptied in an instant, and there was a mechanical clicking sound in the barrel. Aslan shook the hot firearm, threw it aside casually, took a sip of the drink at hand.
There is no longer half a living person in the entire restaurant.
He sat in the messy restaurant, calmly continued to solve his sandwich among the corpses everywhere, as if he was just doing an insignificant little thing.
"You could have saved ammo."
A voice sounded nearby. The phantom he called "Destruction" appeared out of thin air, stood in a pool of blood, and swept across the corpses indifferently.
"I can handle it completely, you just need to think about it." Phantom said.
"I know." Aslan continued eating his sandwich, "I'm just more used to doing it myself. The kind of bullets you shoot through flesh, the feedback of watching them tear apart and squirt blood... You'll spoil that pleasure."
"It's just that you haven't gotten used to it yet." Phantom said, "We are already alone."
"Maybe." Aslan snorted, ate the sandwich, and sucked the juice left on his fingers.
Destroyer reminded: "You are making a lot of noise, and someone may come soon."
"Hmph, I can't wait."
Even though he said so, he still got up and walked out of the restaurant, and he didn't seem to intend to confront the pursuers head-on for the time being.
He craves destruction and fighting, but not here. He seeks exposure and likes the way his masterpieces are admired. Fighting the pursuers in such an inconspicuous place is not only bad for him, but also unable to meet his needs.
On the other hand, he also felt that he still needed some time to adapt.
A huge change had taken place in him, a change that even he himself couldn't adapt to right away. He needs time to understand this change, he needs to get in touch with the phantom in his body, and how to use his ability to adapt to it.
But anyway, Aslan felt that his life had never felt so good. It was as if it was his innate power, that he was becoming what he was meant to be, only now waking up from a dream.
Several thoughts, some prototypes of plans, had already flashed through his mind. Now that he has gained a new life, he must draw a clear line from his outdated self. He must do better than before, brewing a grander feast, leaving an unforgettable mark on the city and the world, and completing the most outstanding work of his life.
He just hasn't figured out exactly what to do.
As soon as he went out, Aslan saw a black car parked on the side of the road at a glance. The car window was rolled down, and a well-dressed man was sitting inside, waving to him.
"Mr. Khalifa." The man smiled, "I just saw you eating, so I didn't bother you. But if you can take time out of your busy schedule to chat with me, I believe it will be beneficial to both of us."
"Oh?" Aslan stopped and became interested, "Want to chat? With me?"
"Maybe it's a trap." Destruction reminded.
"Oh, that's better. Say it like I care."
With a grunt, Aslan strode forward and got into the car. The doors closed and the car sped quickly down the street.
But in the middle of his speech, Aslan interrupted him.
"I know you, the CEO of Doubleday Technology." Aslan said blankly, "I read the news."
"You know me, so that's easy to say." Naoya Iwanaga narrowed his eyes, "I'm looking for you to make a deal."
Aslan let out a muffled nasal sound.
"You should have no shortage of better business partners than me."
"In this matter? No, you are the best choice, because only you are professional." Iwanaga Naoya said, "I know you, I have seen your file...ah, I am Said, have admired your masterpiece. Your work is impressive like never before.
I know you're after killing and destruction and you need attention and people know that's what you do. And I just need you to do what you do best, and it should be a pretty good deal for you, because that should have been your plan.
The difference is that I will pay you a large amount of money, an amount that may be many times greater than the sum of all your previous grabs. And I will also arrange a perfect escape route for you, prepare the vehicle, and change the false identity, so that you have a chance to escape. "
Iwanaga Naoya paused, and chuckled: "This should still be pretty good for you, right? I have seen your previous works, and every action you make is clean and neat, and you always try to be as eye-catching as possible. But getaway planning isn't your thing, and I can help you with that part."
As he spoke, he tried to read something from the madman's eyes. But it's a pity that he only saw the black abyss, and there was nothing in it.
"Conditions?" Aslan said dryly, "You can't pay for nothing."
"Of course, but it's a piece of cake for you." Naoya Iwanaga said with a smile, "My condition is that you need to use the weapons and some special equipment we provide when you do it.
I guarantee these will be better and better gear than you can get your hands on. "
As he spoke, the assistant in the front seat had already handed over a small box. Iwanaga Naoya opened the box and saw a special pistol lying quietly inside.
A model never seen before on the market, a custom firearm. Aslan picked it up and examined it, and soon found something different about it.
There is a logo on the back of the gun with the label "Stark".
Aslan raised his eyebrows: "Stark...one of your competitors?"
"Ha, it seems that you don't often read the news." Naoya Iwanaga smiled, "This guy's name is everywhere, and it's not easy to ignore this name while living on this planet."
"It's been a bit busy these two days." Aslan leaned back in the seat and said lazily, "You know, the death penalty first, and then this one, it almost never stopped.
No time to focus on big things. Tell me about who this guy is? "
"A guy who is beyond the scope of competitors is the natural enemy that we all have to kill." Naoya Iwanaga said indifferently, "That madman in armor broke the rules of the game, tried to overturn the table, and ate the whole thing by himself." piece of cake.
He's crushing our space, taking what's ours. If he thought we were completely helpless, he was very wrong.
Yes he never made guns, but that doesn't matter. Anytime someone goes out with a dozen weapons—one with his name on it—to kill, doubts arise.
There are many people who don't care about the truth or not. UU Reading www.uukanshu.com Many people are already dissatisfied with him, and this is just an opportunity.
You are only responsible for the fuse, and we have our own professional team to deal with the matter of fanning the flames. "
"I see."
Aslan Khalifa forced a smile.
"You want to buy an explosive negative PR campaign."
He is trying to mobilize public opinion to put pressure on his competitors, an old-fashioned method, but this time the method is even more outrageous.
"So, your answer?" Iwanaga Naoya asked.
"Can."
Aslan turned the special pistol around in his hand.
"As long as the money is in place."