The key point is that Hayden realized this tactic could actually be imitated. If copied well, it could quickly integrate them into the local mercenary circle.
A clueless newcomer suddenly stumbles into the scene of an unexpected incident involving urban mercenaries or the gray market, gains the approval of a senior figure, and joins the senior's team or industry circle as a newcomer... Ah, this is a common plot in many movies, animations, and games!
“You see, when I entered the mercenary circle, I did it all through legitimate means. I slowly found intermediaries to introduce me to jobs and gradually built up my credibility and network. I never had the chance to experience this kind of dramatic story that only happens on the big screen.”
Hayden said, feigning seriousness,
"It's a rare opportunity to pretend to be a newbie and experience a classic storyline, it would be a shame not to give it a try."
It took Hongye a great deal of effort to restrain herself from banging her head against the wall in front of her.
Hayden was basically joking when he said that. He wouldn't do something like that just for fun. But it wouldn't be appropriate for Hayden to constantly use "it's my gut feeling" as a reason for his decisions with his teammates. After all, it sounds too mystical and is impossible to explain.
So Hayden simply said, "Let's go. Let's find a place where mercenaries are 'doing business,' then pretend to be newbies passing by, help out our fellow mercenaries who are in trouble, and take the opportunity to make friends with them."
Hongye really didn't want to complain about this, but out of loyalty, she still said, "Master, aren't you just putting on a show for yourself?"
This finally made Hayden (in Fenrir) raise an eyebrow.
"That's right, it was definitely a bit of a self-directed and self-acted performance."
Then he said,
"But Hongye, you need to understand who we really are. We're not pretending to be mercenaries just to experience life, nor are we really here to play the role of mercenaries. Ultimately, we're here to investigate situations and solve problems. In that case, what's wrong with putting on a little show?"
As soon as he finished speaking, Hayden suddenly felt something stirring deep within his subconscious. On his own body, he could sense that Angela seemed to be laughing again, though he couldn't quite put his finger on why.
Anyway, let’s get back to the topic.
"found it."
Using Alastor's hacking skills, Hayden peeked at the city's surveillance cameras for a while and quickly found something quite interesting.
"Hey, just as I expected... the mercenary industry here in South America is quite different from what we do in North America."
Every incident is business; every move brings profit. Turning disputes into cash cows—that's the job of a mercenary.
Even if Hayden is just acting now, this is no exception.
308: As simple as delivering milk.
"It's just a simple job, just a round trip, as simple as delivering milk."
Be careful when a middleman says something like that.
After all, if it's really just a simple and safe job, why spend a lot of money to hire mercenaries from the gray industry to do it for you?
But anyway, this is what the middleman said at the time:
"Drive this pickup truck to the garage of a hardware store near the dock. Don't touch anything inside. Go there and come back. It's a simple job that can be done in half a night."
According to the middleman, this job should have been as simple as delivering milk. However, in reality, the work done by urban mercenaries is anything but "as simple as delivering milk."
As a result, less than twenty minutes after the Gustav mercenary team set off in their truck, they were stuck in the street, on the verge of being overwhelmed by a hail of bullets. The first bullet, made of flesh and bone, struck one of the drivers in the forehead, ruining all their original plans.
The three remaining members of their squad who were still able to move had no choice but to hide behind the truck, using it as cover, and engage in a firefight with the group of men in black who appeared out of nowhere in the street.
Fortunately, the people of South America are very familiar with this kind of daily life. There wasn't even a scream; ordinary passersby immediately scattered and fled, leaving this small stretch of road on the edge of the city to Gustav's mercenary squad and their attackers, who then engaged in a chaotic brawl right there in the street.
So Gustav and his men had no choice but to drive the group of men in black away.
"fuuuuuuuck!"
Crocodile—that was, of course, a nickname—was the only one in Gustav's squad skilled in close combat. A two-meter-tall giant with black hair, a brown beard, and a muscular physique. He charged out of cover, channeling his power, and the flesh beneath his skin immediately began to writhe like countless tiny insects. His muscles stretched taut, and with a snap, two more mangled, powerful arms sprouted from his shoulders, each ending in sharp, dagger-like claws.
Moreover, a thick layer of scales grew on the crocodile's skin, forming an organic armor. Its legs transformed into those of a leopard. Although its appearance was distorted, its speed was undeniable. In the blink of an eye, this mutated monster roared and charged into the enemy ranks, using its powerful arms and bone claws to pierce through the black-clad men who attacked them.
Taking advantage of the attackers' chaos, Gustav, cursing under his breath, leaned out. His bio-gun was still in good enough condition to fire a full-auto shot. Bullets formed from flesh and bone instantly pierced the darkness, striking the enemies lurking in the shadows. One of them screamed and fell to the ground, his fully armed slime combat suit riddled with holes, a bone bullet having torn a large chunk of flesh from his leg.
Seizing the opportunity, Gustav wasted no time. He leaped out, the adrenaline pump in his lower abdomen rapidly contracting, injecting a high concentration of hormones into his bloodstream. His heightened reflexes propelled him across the "battlefield," to the side of the driver whose forehead had been pierced. Then, with a snap, Gustav pulled a long, thick blood vessel from the driver's arm and plunged it into the driver's neck, injecting it through the carotid artery.
His blood was injected into the driver's veins, allowing the driver to survive even though his heart and lungs stopped working. Yes, the driver's head was pierced by a bullet, but that was a minor issue. This level of physical damage can be easily repaired.
Meanwhile, the last member of Gustav's squad, a young girl who called herself "Dolly," screamed as she pulled something rather disgusting from her coat pocket—a whole human heart.
She ripped a pin-like muscle from inside the heart, and the heart, which had stopped beating, immediately began to beat again. Dolly then promptly threw the object towards the enemy's location. The next second, the heart swelled and burst, sending countless pieces of flesh, nails, and teeth flying. The curse, filled with the resentment of the dead, instantly felled several men in black.
Having come to this point, and probably realizing that continuing the fight was not worthwhile, the remaining men in black carried their fallen comrades and hastily retreated.
This actually relieved Gustav and his team.
In the territory of the Goddess of Death, Miktikashiva, mercenaries and street fights are tolerated, but dying casually will be severely punished.
Correct.
The fight that just happened, which lasted for several minutes, resulted in blood staining the street and the ground being covered with flesh, organs, and brains that had been splattered everywhere, but no one died.
"What the hell is going on? Nobody told us... Ah, never mind. I knew no broker could be trusted."
The crocodile retracted its newly grown mutated organ and walked back to the truck while cursing.
“Not a fellow professional, nor a company security guard.” Gustav shook his head. “Their skills are too poor; they’re probably just a smuggling gang. The cargo they’re transporting this time might have been stolen from them by the employer.”
However, even if the contents of the truck were stolen by the employer, it has nothing to do with the mercenaries who took the order to deliver the goods. After all, urban mercenaries do anything.
Should we open the truck to see what's inside? That would be incredibly disrespectful; they would never do it, not even consider it. It's about professional ethics and integrity. In this gray industry, you can't survive without integrity.
"The driver's head's been smashed in two; he's definitely not going to be repaired unless he's taken to a culture tank. What do we do? Boss, do you know how to drive this kind of truck?"
Crocodile glanced at his fallen driver teammate and scratched the back of his head.
“No,” Gustav shook his head. “I can only learn from the coachman. I’ll return the knowledge to him later.”
No sooner said than done! Gustav flicked a bone spur from his left hand, plunging it into the driver's skull, which had been split in two, and plucked out a small piece of brain tissue. Then Gustav pierced his own skull, inserting the same small piece of brain tissue into his own brain…
What a hot-swap! Gustav rolled his eyes, shuddered, then blinked again and reached out to patch up the hole in his skull.
"...Okay, that's a success. We still have plenty of time. Let's continue with the deliveries."
This made the crocodile laugh.
Gustav smiled as well.
...until they heard Dolly weakly say, "Captain, Crocodile, you...look at the freight car."
The two male mercenaries turned around and realized—oh dear, the truck bed, which they had just used as cover, had been riddled with bullet holes by enemy fire during the gunfight.
"...That's not a problem," Gustav said calmly. "We didn't peek inside, and the cargo might not actually have been damaged. As long as we continue delivering it to the designated location—"
Before the words were finished, a huge, coarse hand with dark granite-gray claws reached out from the opening and tore the truck bed apart from the inside.
Oh dear, it turns out the employers had them transport a huge monster that was originally in a dormant state!
— Hayden (in Fenrir) and Red Leaf ran to a nearby rooftop and spied on the scene from above. What they saw was three mercenaries being brutally beaten by a deformed, mutated minotaur monster.
"Look, it's a classic scene."
Hayden gestured and whispered to Red Leaf.
"Excuse my bluntness, sir, but I don't see any difference between this scene and the urban mercenaries in North America or other places."
Hongye frowned. Although she had never been a city mercenary, she had been a corporate ninja for hundreds of years, a lackey of large corporations. She had probably dealt with and killed more city mercenaries than Hayden had ever seen.
"I think there is a very obvious difference."
However, Hayden observed the mercenaries' weapons from a distance, examined the spells and abilities they used, and noted their thought processes and tactics in battle.
“Hongye, let me tell you the truth. You can actually see a lot of differences just from people’s behavior and mannerisms.”
309: Flesh and Bone
"Awaaaaaaah!"
Dolly screamed as she desperately dodged and fled from the claws of the deformed, mutated minotaur monster.
Her role in this mercenary group is that of a professional spellcaster. Although everyone knows a little magic these days, and mercenaries are almost all skilled in magic, there is still a distinction between those with magical expertise and those without.
Generally speaking, very few professional magic users are willing to become mercenaries. After all, if you have legitimate magical skills and techniques, it's better to work for a company than to become a mercenary. Although working for a large company is busier, more exploitative, and pays less, at least you're not as likely to die!
Therefore, professional magicians who become mercenaries are either anti-corporate figures like Hayden, or they often have the ambition to quickly make a lot of money or improve their status and power.
...But in South America, the situation seems to be a little different.
Dolly didn't seem to belong to either of those two types of people; in fact, she seemed quite afraid of death, constantly yelling and screaming during the battle. But what's the point of someone so afraid of death becoming a mercenary?
Fortunately, her captain, Gustav, will protect her.
"Bone Spear!"
In the blink of an eye, a piece of bone from Gustav's right arm pierced through the minotaur's nose like a spear, causing the monster to take a step back.
No enemy could escape unscathed from his bone spear attack; at least, Gustav had never seen one. That single spear thrust was enough to kill any mortal warrior. Yet, the minotaur let out an angry roar, and its shattered nose instantly rose again, regenerating.
Having escaped, Dolly seized the opportunity to chant spells, unleashing a barrage of magic. Stunning arrows, heat arrows, fireballs, and lightning bolts rained down—however, most of the magic merely shattered into a harmless shower of sparks on the minotaur's granite-grey skin. It appeared to be barely smoking.
"fuuuuuuuck!"
The crocodile once again activated its physical transformation, growing four arms, scales as armor, powerful claws mutated to tear enemies apart, a jaw as strong as steel, and sharp teeth. It roared and charged at the minotaur. The single-molecule claws, grown through bio-engineering and driven by its powerful muscles, ripped through the skin and flesh of the minotaur's right arm with a tearing sound—
...Then his claws were blocked by the minotaur's bones, which were as hard as adamantite.
The next instant, the Minotaur retaliated with its left fist, smashing it into the face of the charging crocodile, sending it flying through the air, across the road, until it crashed into the guardrail on the other side and collapsed to the ground, motionless.
"Oh shit."
This time, even Gustav was a little confused.
"Where did this monster come from? What kind of military-grade biological weapon is this?!"
This minotaur's basic physical attributes are already at the level of the War God race. Although everyone can see that it has no intelligence, combat skills, or equipment—its basic physical attributes alone are enough to make it as formidable as an ordinary god! This regenerative ability, which restores all physical damage in seconds, is something even most War Gods lack!
At this very moment, the muscles in the Minotaur's right arm, torn apart by the crocodile's claws, were regenerating and healing, bubbling with disgusting malice. It roared furiously and began clumsily moving towards the direction the crocodile had fallen, a thin stream of saliva dangling from its mouth.
So Gustav reached for his lower back, but hesitated and stopped. He also had a grenade launcher barrel that could be attached to his bio-gun, but even if he used a bio-grenade to blast it, judging from the Minotaur's appearance, it would probably just regenerate quickly.
Which biochemical factory created this monster? No, wondering about that now is useless. Anyway, what should we do?
Gustav's only thought was to self-destruct. Weighing 75 kilograms, sacrificing all his cells in a targeted explosion should be enough to obliterate the Minotaur. But even that probably wouldn't solve the problem… their limited strength simply wasn't enough.
If we delay for another five minutes, we might bring in the company's security detail, and then everyone would be treated as a problem. That wouldn't be worthwhile, and it wouldn't be good for anyone.
This is not a good thing for anyone.
That's why at this moment, an invisible beam of moonlight streaked across the night sky, descended from the heavens, seized the Minotaur, and pinned him firmly to the spot!
Gustav and Dolly immediately turned around in astonishment, only to find two unfamiliar figures on the roof of a building across the street.
The leader, wearing a wolf-head mask, wove moonlight magic into shape with his hands. It was he who froze the raging minotaur.
But such a blockade couldn't last, because the wolf-masked man's magic wasn't particularly extraordinary. Even with his god-like physical abilities, how long could he hold the spell at full power? One second? Three seconds? It couldn't possibly exceed five seconds.
That's why the fox's shadow stepped out from the moonlight.
"Ninety-two Styles - Chaotic Yaksha Shatter".
The kill was swift as lightning, its burst as dazzling as a flash of light.
No one saw when the fox-eared girl drew her sword or when she made the cut.
Even Gustav, who had undergone extensive biological modifications, could only see the flash of the blade and hear the crisp clinking of the blade's edge when it was finally sheathed.
The next instant, the Minotaur's body was like a video paused after the play button was pressed again; its limbs were cleanly severed, its skin, flesh, and bones all separated, as easily as cutting jelly.
This bio-monster, possessing the physical attributes of a warrior god, may lack equipment and skills, but its bones are at least as hard as adamantite, and its skin has magic resistance. To be able to sever the minotaur's limbs in an instant with a swift blade, it must be at least a top-tier expert; only with a sharp, precious sword would it have a slight chance.
However, at the same time, the person wielding the knife that Gustav and Dolly saw was a girl who looked remarkably young. Although she was wearing a white fox mask and actually had fox ears and a fox tail, her physical appearance made her look like she was still in her teens.
A teenage girl couldn't possibly possess such swordsmanship. Unless she wasn't human, or simply didn't match her age. It would be truly bizarre if Gustav didn't become suspicious.
"Thanks, friend. But who exactly are you people?"
So Gustav spoke calmly while inwardly groaning. What they couldn't bear most right now was another unexpected obstacle appearing out of nowhere.
"Of course, they are colleagues who are just passing by."
At that moment, the other mage, wearing a white wolf mask, flew over from the other end of the street and spoke.
“Friend, we’ll take 20% of the commission and then help you finish the rest of the work.”
What else could Gustav say?
"You're going to kill us, my friend."
That being said, failing to complete a commission is a very serious crime for any free agent operating in northern South America. So Gustav sighed, "Fine. Twenty percent. No time to haggle."