"Boss, I want to follow you."
As Chen Luo walked outside, a man ran out and shouted, his voice sincere.
The people beside the man exclaimed in surprise, "Boss, what are you saying?"
So this man was a boss himself.
Guan Gaohan was exhausted. Early on, relying on his decent strength, he had wanted to experience being a boss and calling the shots.
And he had indeed enjoyed being admired by everyone for a while.
After that, it had been nothing but exhaustion.
His underlings were nothing like ancient soldiers who charged wherever they were ordered. They would certainly obey ordinary commands, but if the risk of death was high, their attitude became, "Who the hell are you?"
In ancient times, loyalty to the ruler was ingrained in people. Soldiers were loyal and dared to carry out even missions that meant certain death.
Now, none of that existed. Everyone lived for themselves.
He also had to worry about the entire base. He might look impressive, but in reality, he had to tread carefully, not daring to offend anyone lightly.
Bosses had a high mortality rate, too. Just look at Li Liang and Ning Feng. Their underlings hadn't died, but both bosses had been killed outright. Being a boss was a high-risk profession.
When Li Liang's and Ning Feng's underlings saw their bosses die, not one had dared to say a damn thing or step forward to condemn Chen Luo.
Guan Gaohan no longer wanted to be a boss. Whoever wanted the job could have it.
His impression of Chen Luo was that he was powerful, protective of his people, and shameless enough to take someone's crystals without doing anything in return.
Shamelessness was good. In the apocalypse, gentlemen were the first to die.
Besides, Guan Gaohan had planted a spy