The interior looked like an abandoned factory, with the pungent smell of oil and grease hitting the nose.
Ronin rolled his eyes, taking in the entire surrounding scene at a glance.
"McLaren, hurry up and come eat!"
A burly, dark-skinned thug waved at him. Ronin glanced behind him—there was no one else—so the guy must be calling him.
Ronin jogged over. He was playing the role of McLaren now; he absolutely could not slip up, or dozens of gun barrels would be pointed at him.
Several wooden barrels held various foods, with stacks of disposable meal boxes piled high beside them.
Quite a few thugs were eating at the moment. The dark, fat one who had called him seemed to be McLaren's buddy?
"McLaren, what are you dawdling for? After you eat, come help me move some stuff."
Seeing him hesitate, the dark fat guy urged him again.
To be honest, Ronin had zero appetite. Although there was fried chicken, sandwiches, and roasted bread, everything was crammed into a filthy wooden barrel. No matter how hungry he was, seeing the grease-stained dirty barrel killed any desire to eat.
In the end, he took a piece of roasted bread. It was black and hard—he really didn't know how these guys could stomach it.
"McLaren, aren't you usually a big eater? Today you're only having this?"
Ronin was genuinely annoyed. This grown man was being so nosy, asking questions left and right—would he ever stop? Right now he didn't dare speak at all; his voice was different, and speaking would definitely get him recognized as an impostor by McLaren's pal.
But staying completely silent might also raise suspicion, so he forced a hoarse voice and said, "My throat… isn't feeling well."
The difference in tone was masked by the raspy voice.
"Hurry up and eat. After you're done, come move stuff. I'll wait for you upstairs."
Ronin breathed a sigh of relief—good, he hadn't been exposed.
Out of habit, he brought the roasted bread to his mouth, took one bite, and immediately regretted it. While no one was looking, he tossed it on the ground. The taste was way too overpowering…
He stepped onto the makeshift iron-plate stairs and went up to the second floor. The dark fat guy waved at him again. "Follow me!"
On the way, they passed two thugs escorting a hooded person.
Ronin took a quick look—dark blue jeans and white sneakers!
The hooded person was Thomas!
"Behave yourself!"
One thug kicked Thomas hard. "The boss offered you the easy way and you refused, so now you get the hard way. You've got guts. Later you'll get to enjoy the cruelest tortures in the world. I don't believe we won't pry your mouth open."
"Don't look around. Don't you know the rules here?" the dark fat guy said.
Ronin quickly turned his head and obediently walked forward.
"The boss is really something, actually managing to capture Soldier: 76 and bring him back. You know Soldier: 76, right? The one from that movie made by Overwatch Films." The dark fat guy spoke in a low voice.
Ronin shook his head.
"You're such a lowlife—you don't even know Soldier: 76? Let me tell you, Soldier: 76 is a superhero with physical abilities far beyond ordinary people. His pulse rifle is insanely powerful; there's nothing it can't pierce. I didn't believe at first that someone from a movie could appear in the real world, but last time our guys attacked Brilliant Star, Soldier: 76 showed up, wiped out all our people, and it even made the news."
"You don't even watch the news?" The dark fat guy looked astonished.
Ronin shook his head again.
"No wonder you're stuck here moving stuff like a laborer with me. Let me tell you, in this line of work, brute strength alone won't get you anywhere. Besides, you're not some sharpshooter either. If we want to stand out, we've got to use our brains. We need to study politics and military stuff, and we definitely have to keep up with the news. Otherwise, we'll be the lowest-level mercenaries for life, bossed around by the head honcho with no dignity. Who knows, one day the Grim Reaper might just take us away."
Ronin nodded, thinking to himself: Does this guy's mouth ever get tired? Giving me all these tips on how to get promoted as a mercenary—what's the point?
Right now he only wanted to rescue Thomas. Every extra second of delay meant Thomas would suffer for one more second.
They arrived at a warehouse stacked full of wooden crates. No doubt, they were all filled with ammunition.
Besides the two of them, other people were also moving ammo.
The dark fat guy picked up a crate and headed out. "I'll go down first. You hurry up too. These munitions are being moved elsewhere. Word is this place has already been targeted."
Targeted?
Had the military already discovered that this was a terrorist hideout?
No matter what, he had to rescue Thomas first.
The crates were sealed. After the others left, Ronin pried one open. It was packed with grenades. The other crates probably contained explosives and such.
Without another word, he took out a timed bomb, set it for five minutes, placed it inside the crate, closed it, and then walked out openly.
If the timed bomb exploded in the ammunition depot, it would turn this place into ruins.
As soon as he stepped out, he saw Thomas being taken into a room. To avoid drawing the attention of the patrolling thugs, Ronin walked toward it at a leisurely pace, without letting his eyes wander.
When he reached the door, Ronin knocked.
One of the thugs opened a crack in the door and asked warily, "What's the matter?"
Through the gap, he saw Thomas tied to a wooden post, his mouth gagged with cloth, making muffled groans. Torture tools were laid out beside him, but fortunately they hadn't started yet.
"The boss wants to see him."
Ronin spoke in his normal voice. Worst case, he'd fight to the death—Soldier: 76 had seen all kinds of situations.
"Didn't the boss just tell us to bring him over?" The other thug sounded a bit suspicious of his identity.
"The boss said he's already found a way to make this kid talk." Ronin continued spinning his lie.
The two men frowned slightly and opened the door to let him in for a detailed talk. As soon as the door opened, they smiled and said, "Boss!"
Ronin pointed at himself, puzzled. "I'm your boss?"
Before he finished speaking, he felt a surge of hot breath behind him. He turned his head and saw a tall, burly man. Ronin considered himself fairly tall, but compared to this guy he was still half a head shorter—he had to look upward to see the man's full face.
He also respectfully called out, "Boss!"
The mercenary leader was holding the armor case in his hand. It seemed this guy couldn't open the armor case and had been forcing Thomas to talk. Since Thomas refused, he planned to use torture.
"I'll interrogate him personally," the mercenary leader said.
"Boss, he said you already found a way to make this kid talk."
Thump-thump!
At that moment, Ronin could hear his own heartbeat. The instant the mercenary leader frowned, he decisively completed the transformation from McLaren to Soldier: 76.
He slammed his elbow backward fiercely. The stock of the heavy pulse rifle swung upward and smashed straight into the mercenary leader's face. At the same time, he pulled the trigger and gunned down the two thugs in front of him. Then he quickly untied Thomas and snatched the armor case from the leader's hands, handing it to him.
Thomas was stunned for two seconds, seemingly still not understanding what was happening. Once he snapped out of it, he immediately opened the armor case, put on the uniform, and fought alongside Soldier: 76.
The mercenary leader, half-dazed from the blow, saw two Soldier: 76s in his vision and thought he was hallucinating. Then Ronin delivered another rifle-butt strike and knocked him out cold.
"There are only two minutes left before this place blows. Follow me and fight our way out," Ronin said.
Thomas nodded, put on the gas mask and tactical visor, and picked up the pulse rifle produced by Stark.
"We are all soldiers now!"