Chen Feng slowly walked to the door and pushed it open. "Let's get this straight first. A lot of people will definitely die on this next job. If you're having second thoughts, you can still leave now. But once I close this door, there's no backing out."
Whether you were a villain or a Hero.
In City World, your word was everything.
Just like fixers: once people knew you had sold out a client's information, nobody would work with you again.
The same went for agencies. Either you refused a job, or, once you accepted it, you finished it or died trying. Refunds were unheard of.
The first three division chiefs exchanged looks.
When it came to fighting, they were professionals.
But when thinking was involved, these pointy-headed fellows were clearly full of elaborate schemes that even they couldn't figure out.
"Ah."
Lone Wolf, the Eighth Division Chief, sighed and asked, "Mr. Buyin, what do you need us to do?"
Chen Feng signaled for Rhodes, their ordinary human accountant, to leave, then said, "Keep someone safe from corporate attacks for three months, and stop a Black-Rank disaster."
Lone Wolf confirmed again, "Is the person we're protecting a criminal?"
Chen Feng shook his head. "No."
"Then we'll take it."
True skill bred true courage.
Even after hearing they would be dealing with the Four Great Corporations and a Black-Rank disaster, the Ridiculous Agency's ten Heroes didn't flinch or move a muscle.
Wait.
Why were there ten?
Chen Feng suddenly sensed spatial energy filling the meeting room. Turning his head, he discovered a muscular man standing beside Hood, the Ninth Division Chief, with crossed eyes and his tongue hanging out.
"You are?"
"T-t-tenth Division Chief, M-m-m-Madman!"
He couldn't even speak properly.
This guy looked like he'd done plenty of training, too.
Chen