Hang a Parachute on It

Big Cat followed the old Black man to a worn-out tent.

Wenren Sheng immediately shut off his Mystic Olfaction and Mystic Taste...

Sure enough, the only difference between the old man's tent and a garbage pit was whether someone was sleeping on top of it.

The old man sat on a small folding stool inside the tent, muttering to himself. "Zack, why did you resist? If you hadn't resisted, you wouldn't have died. Did you not even understand that? Your death was far too worthless. At least you could've bought personal injury insurance and named me as the beneficiary. Then your death wouldn't have been wasted."

What utter composure.

Only heartless Grandets would say such things.

Big Cat turned and left. Wenren Sheng had already witnessed the wonders of being Brain-Plugged. It was practically a technology from the future.

But generally speaking, such incongruous future technology, according to the script, would inevitably provoke resistance. There would be a tortuous love story mixed in somewhere, and in the end, it would either be overthrown or leave behind a hook.

In any case, it could not possibly be implemented so smoothly.

Wenren Sheng withdrew Big Cat and had it return to Bauer's home.

Those people were currently targeting the slums of Minsk City. He did not know whether they would also target the middle-class residential neighborhoods where Bauer and the others lived.

They would probably either leave them alone for now or sweep through them all in one go.

But he thought the former was more likely. They should be dealing with the slums, where the problems were most severe, first. Once they checked the results, they would roll it out across the board.

Still, that would create quite a distinctive sight—everyone living their lives in helmets.

Wenren Sheng severed his connection