Life in North America, you call this an autopsy officer?!
Chapter 209 - 161: Difficult to Handle? Then Don’t Bother at All! (Two in One)

Chapter 209: Chapter 161: Difficult to Handle? Then Don’t Bother at All! (Two in One)

Brian admitted that he was deliberately looking for trouble now.

Like a villain in some movie, he waited for an extra to step forward obediently, making a show of force to deter the rest and spare himself further trouble.

Of course, there was the possibility of playing tough only to get beaten up instead.

Real life wasn’t a movie.

And Brian wasn’t the protagonist.

With his arrogant and brainless words, four men exchanged glances and, without a word, burst out from the crowd. Swinging their waist sticks and daggers in tacit agreement, they charged at Brian.

Watching the four men charge out,

a short Asian woman with a ninja sword on her back looked to a black-haired Caucasian man beside her, "Julio, keep an eye out. If these four aren’t enough, just shoot and blow this idiot’s limbs off. I’ll give you my purchasing rights, and I’ll cover half of the resources needed for the exchange."

After Susan left, she ranked third in performance for this session.

With training nearing its end,

she was willing to pay a price to maintain her position.

"No problem, Miss Yoshiko. It’s a win-win."

A young white man with black hair whistled, his right hand, seemingly unintentionally, already reaching for a small pistol.

...

It all happened so fast.

As the four men charged at him, Brian silently stepped back and disappeared behind the trees at the corner.

"Watch out for traps."

"We’re more familiar with this area than he is."

These four had developed a good understanding over this period. Seeing the situation, they no longer rushed forward but instead dispersed to circle around to the path from different directions.

The next moment.

Whoosh whoosh whoosh~

Seven or eight iron nails shot out from the fallen leaves above, turning into streaking shadows as they passed through the four men who were just about to disperse, appearing on the body of the black-haired young man who had just drawn his pistol.

The youth, still puckering his lips from the whistle, found four nails driven with immense force into the joints of his limbs, and two more miraculously collided in mid-air, changing direction and perfectly embedding in his pouted lips above, stitching his mouth shut.

The last nail, clearly weaker, finally reached and hit the woman who had spoken directly above her left breast.

It all happened too fast.

Only after the black-haired Caucasian man collapsed, trying to scream in pain but able to produce only a trumpet-like noise from his sewn-up mouth, did the others belatedly realize what had happened and in terror scattered behind cover.

The woman who had spoken was the most pitiable.

She stared down blankly at her left breast.

That nail was too malicious; it had ruthlessly pierced her bullet-proof vest, with the tip of the nail hitting right on her left grape, the pain mixed with a tingling sensation, the humiliation overwhelming the physical injury.

"Damn it!"

She snapped back to reality, veins bulging on her forehead, her eyes turning into vertical slits like a cat’s, as she cursed in Japanese and dashed low to the ground. Surprisingly, she managed to outpace the previous four men, ignoring the terrain as she sprinted up to the tree, drew her sword, and with hands together, brought it down: "Laido One Slash!"

The flash of the sword passed.

Leaves scattered everywhere.

Where the edge of the blade went, branches broke and leaves shattered, fiercely sharp, carrying the deadly intent of cutting everything in two with a single stroke.

"It’s a nostalgic accent indeed..."

In a daze,

Matsushita Yoshiko thought she heard a man’s low lament.

The next moment,

a large hand barely grazed the trajectory of her slashing sword, catching her sword-wielding hands with impeccable accuracy.

Brian, like an ape, grabbed onto the tree trunk with one hand, holding the woman’s hands with the other, leapt down from the tree, landed on the ground, and before everyone’s eyes, gave a shake of his single hand, tossing the struggling Japanese woman high up, then slamming her hard onto the ground.

With a muffled thud,

everyone felt the ground shake slightly.

They hurried to check on Matsushita Yoshiko only to find the agile, impressive swordswoman, also skilled in various hidden weapons, now embedded in the ground as if fused with it.

Her body twitched slightly, her wide-open mouth attempting to breathe but the pain was too intense to draw any air; only the blood slowly seeping from her mouth, nose, ears, and other orifices, told everyone that with just one blow, this expert woman from Japan had been severely injured and could die at any moment.

Hiss~

Everyone gasped in shock.

This superhuman strength, did they even need it for a training camp at their level?

Wasn’t this just like a father beating his child, a case of bullying the weak?

...

Back at Night Demon Headquarters, the bookmakers were rendered speechless by Brian’s brazen actions.

Only Kanchef, the Mediterranean man who had received Brian personally, had anticipated this situation and calmly picked up a microphone: "Medics, go ahead."

These elites, whether they were enhanced or transformed, were not normal humans.

Injuries that would kill an ordinary person could be endured much longer by them, enough time for rescue.

But they were only responsible for lifesaving.

As for the subsequent treatment, it was no longer the concern of the Night Demon Organization.

Before joining the training camp, everyone had signed a death waiver; as long as deaths weren’t caused by external attacks, they were considered internal conflicts of the respective organizations the elites belonged to, not involving the Night Demon Organization.

On the other side,

the four strong men who had initially charged out were now frightened by Brian’s ferocity and strength, pulling out their firearms.