Cola has been having a terrible headache lately since he received orders from the butler. After he was asked to escort a group of people to a certain country in Asia, Coke had a terrible headache. It was a gun-ban country, and without guns, Coke didn't know what else he could do.

There's nothing wrong with him being a fighter, but he's not an expert in martial arts. In the absence of firearms, the price he has to pay to perfectly protect his target is even greater. But Cola had no way to refuse, because his family had already migrated. And he didn't know where his family had been moved.

The most important thing is that the people he needs to relocate are young masters, lords, and princesses. These people complained about the accommodation and food conditions along the way, and almost drove Coke crazy. Even idiots know that now is the time to flee!

When I fled, I thought that the leather shoes I was wearing were not calfskin, and I thought about going to Milan to order my own silk scarf. Coke felt that the families he had served had raised too much waste to be unlucky. Coke really wants to leave these idiots behind and run away on his own.

You know, they are not running away through the service station channel now. Along the way, he spent countless thoughts, demanding absolute concealment. But these old men not only did not understand his hard work, but also complained to him about accommodation and food.

These young masters and old men are pampered and protected so well that they no longer eat the fireworks of the world. They were accustomed to enjoying their life of horse racing and hunting on the estate, and to the days of famous clothes and delicious food. Whenever Cola served these people, he missed the days when he was the logistics director of the mercenary group.

Although those arrangements are also cumbersome, many times I have to quarrel with my comrades. But at least, those bastards won't dislike the fact that the field dry food is not tasty. I don't think there's anything wrong with being able to live in a tent in the jungle.

They will happily accept the occasional luncheon meat and thank Coke. They'll feel like they're not sleeping in the thorny vines of the jungle, which is nice. If the ammunition supply is not enough, I will scold my mother, and if I don't get the firearms I need, I will quarrel. But at least they're never picky.

These old men, even if they get meat, they hate that this is not Australian veal. Thankfully, this is coming to an end, and Coke will soon be able to leave these damn bastards alone. All you have to do is go through the customs and watch them get out of the way into that country.

Then someone else will take over his work. While the rest of the work will be more dangerous, Coke feels that it will at least put him at ease. It's a million times better than serving these goddamn idiots.

In fact, from the moment Coke received the housekeeper's instructions. He knew that the war he had guessed had entered a white-hot level. The master behind him is engaged in a life-and-death battle with some behemoth he doesn't know.

Coke and Black Mamba were acquainted, and from the moment they lost contact. Coke knew that the war had broken out between the two sides. And it's very serious. King Arthur's people were connected by Coke. It's just that he hid his identity at that time.

When King Arthur and the others were destroyed, Coke knew that this was a big deal. Coke is not one of the Black Mamba who has almost disconnected from the original mercenary circle, and the foundation of his original relationship is still there. And the housekeeper also needs him to keep in touch with those relationships from time to time.

"Team D12, you still have half an hour to prepare. After fifteen minutes, the exact coordinates of the target will be sent to your hand-held GPS. This time the mission is to annihilate the living in all coordinate areas. Remember: all living people! ”

Now, Coke repeats this phrase. He also knew how many people would die if he repeated the phrase. But he didn't mind anymore, he only had one thing on his mind now: whether he would be able to get out safely when he was done.

What the housekeeper told him was that he would receive the message when the work was done. It was about his family. Even now, Coke is able to make a video call to the home once a day to confirm safety. The family did not dare to reveal their location, only told Coke that it was safer now.

Coke can only follow the instructions of the housekeeper and proceed step by step according to the predetermined plan. Until he was finally able to evacuate. Coke was even ready to be cleaned up himself, he knew so much. What no one knows is that Coke now has a ring of explosives strapped to himself.

He was well aware that he could not be a prisoner. He knew that if he could be captured, then death was the best option. He didn't know if he would be able to survive the torture. If you die, you will not suffer. Even if it is cleaned up in the end, then self-destruction is the best option.

Exhaling deeply, Coke's voice continued in a low and cold voice: "Team D18, the coordinates have been activated." Let's go! Remember, kill all the living! ”