In the vast expanse of space, accurately intercepting a ship was difficult. You did not know its speed or route. Maybe by the time you arrived, it would already be tens or hundreds of millions of kilometers away. How were you supposed to catch up? "Boss, the fat sheep has set out. But according to the passenger list, there's a C-rank agent from Anzhi Clean Company aboard." Inside a thousand-meter-long warship drifting through the pitch-black starry sky, someone hurried over with decoded information and reported.
"What's Anzhi Clean Company? Just a bunch of rats hiding underground. We've got Energy Armor, mechas, and fighters. Anyone who refuses to cooperate gets killed. This batch of fat sheep has already been reserved, and the price is good. Keep anyone who isn't especially violent. Besides, those damned residents from Anzhi Clean Company are mostly Gene Evolvers. Buyers pay even more for them," the leader said with a cold laugh.
"Yes!"
"Big Brother, should we have our people pretend to be Bird-Slaying Bro and livestream in the game? We took a huge loss last time. Our mechas are worth a fortune. No wonder people curse that lousy game—the compensation is enough to buy a real mecha."
"Huh? That's a good idea. Bird-Slaying Bro only uses a few tricks anyway. But who are we going to get to choose a Third Generation Mecha? Every one of us is an elite."
"There'll definitely be some among this batch of fat sheep. We can keep a few."
"That's true."
"That bunch of bastards from the Justice Gang has been cursing us on the forums. Don't let me find out who they are, or I'll kill those dogs."
"They're just people who got ** in real life."
Yang Bo had a headache. The books were from Fatty Boss.