How to Deal with 97

Hansen was dead, and his death had been so unremarkable.

The former New America colonel, the King of Dogtown, had been no different from an ordinary person at the moment of death.

A trace of confusion still lingered on his face, as though he had never anticipated this outcome.

Why did KK have no intention of saying a few more words to him? Why had KK killed him? Perhaps countless questions had piled up in the last fading remnants of Hansen's consciousness. But before any of them surfaced, the final thought left in Hansen's mind was—

So fast.

Hansen had never imagined KK could move so quickly.

He had never imagined KK's speed could reach such a terrifying level, or that his strike would be so decisive.

His rank in New America had been earned through genuine military achievements. In other words, he had clawed his way up to colonel through mountains of corpses and seas of blood. Hansen's combat skills were anything but lacking; even several ordinary corporate security squads working together might not have been able to do anything to him.

Yet despite those abilities, the instant KK struck, he had failed to mount even the slightest effective resistance.

Or rather, the realization that he was already dead had been among the last traces of consciousness before his mind faded away.

"Thud."

As the body, no longer controlled by consciousness, collapsed before her, Carl's gaze remained calm.

She actually respected Kurt Hansen. Otherwise, she would not have called him sir.

The former colonel had been a highly capable man. He had talent, courage, and the ability to lead his troops in defecting from New America. He had even established his own order in lawless Dogtown, a kingdom in the cracks that truly belonged to him. Accomplishing all that