Before long, a rush of footsteps sounded outside the casino.
A group of neatly dressed, cold-faced men stormed in.
Werther was already waiting inside, Intent Blood in hand.
The modified soldiers of Germa 66 charged without a word. As they rushed forward, they stared silently at Werther, and arcs of electricity flickered across their armor.
Werther couldn't help laughing. They wanted to fight him with electricity? That was like teaching a master swordsman how to swing a blade.
He activated Lightning Mode and closed on the soldiers in a flash. One slash cut down the man at the front. Werther leaned back to avoid a fist aimed at his face, then killed its owner with another stroke.
The survivors stopped charging blindly. They backed away and formed a strange formation, preparing to surround him again.
Individually, they weren't strong, but their discipline and combat ability impressed Werther.
No wonder they were called an army of evil. Deploy enough soldiers like these on a battlefield, and the enemy's morale would be crushed.
But against overwhelming strength, discipline and tactics meant nothing.
Within a minute, nearly all the modified soldiers were dead or dying. Only one remained, covered in blood and gasping for breath.
Werther had deliberately left him alive. He intended to wipe out every Vinsmoke operation on the Island.
He had no intention of interrogating him, of course. Trying to extract answers from a killing machine with barely any emotions would be foolish.
Shnk.
Werther drove Intent Blood into the soldier's neck and waited.
A red glow slowly appeared in the soldier's eyes, and his expression turned vacant.
"Master."
The soldier smiled vacantly, drool running from his mouth.
Intent Blood had successfully taken control of him.
"Take me to their other bases."
"Yes."
The modified soldier staggered out of the