Rewind the clock, a little more than three quarters of an hour before Masaya Nakagawa and the others found smoke exploding in a corner of the villa.

Naturally, there are many factors to consider in the location of important people, concealment, defense capabilities, retreat routes, transparency of observation, etc., but for those guests who are just necessary for the show and are kept in the dark and don't know what is going on, there seems to be less demand, so they are all concentrated in a huge room.

This room, in the eyes of many, including Madame 'Donasius, was extremely strange, for it had a soft floor that made it comfortable to sit on even when tied, but the walls around it were pure white, and the floor was also white, with only a few huge sandbags and some other training equipment.

There was a maddening feeling in this room, and the fat Madame 'Donasius muttered.

Indeed, Mike, a former member of the federal special forces who walks around the room with a gun. Campbell heard the muttering of the woman he defined as "the fat pig scourge of the politician's wife", but he didn't bother to shut her up, and he did agree with the woman's exclamation, this room was almost like the training room of torture training he had experienced--- monotonous colors, simple furnishings, this was enough to make people mentally break down, and the same was true in the solitary isolation room of the prison.

But soon, the sound of a Latin fist hitting a sandbag from a sandbag in the corner made Mike pull his mind away from his past training, and he frowned at his companion Kenneth. Venser hit the sandbag with a raindrop-like frequency--- his comrade had come a long way with him, and the friendship between the two was deep, but Mike still felt a film between the two. Is it the fact that Kenneth is an "outsider", no, is it the things that the "outsider" used to sit down, and it is not?

"There are no good goods among the ladies, but I didn't expect that there is a beautiful girl among the maids."

That's it, looking at Kenneth with his fists folded, walking towards the pile of women who were already trembling with a smile that would definitely make women feel unpleasant, Mike. Campbell finally remembered what made him feel that there was always a gap between him and his comrade-in-arms--- is it a common problem of "outsiders", although it is reflected in different aspects, but their desires are terrible, and Kenneth's desires are reflected in fights and women, right?

"Kenneth, restrain yourself!" Mike. Campbell shouted to stop him, and at the same time his eyes scanned the surroundings like radar, he didn't care about those women, his wife and daughter were all because of Zeon's tragic death, he didn't have any sympathy for women, but boxing was okay, if he spent his physical strength on women, the task would be troublesome.

And when Kenneth was boxing just now, he was already doing the work of two people by himself--- staring at such a group of women and a room alone was originally a very tiring thing.

"It's a big deal, you'll be cool later, I heard that there are high-level ladies of the Zeonnick Company here, right?" Kenneth. Venser took off his gloves and pointed to the pile of women.

For a moment, Mike. Campbell hesitated, he felt a sweet but scorching flame rise from his chest and hit his brain, he knew it was the flame of revenge burning himself--- the Zeonnick Corporation, some of the one-eyed monsters that invaded the Earth were created...

But the next moment, a somewhat confused federal veteran stepped on the hand of a little girl who had come to the banquet with her parents, and the little girl, who was already in tears, burst into tears. Awakened by the girl's cry, Mike. Campbell looked down at the little girl who was crying and the woman who was comforting her, and suddenly the faces of his wife and daughter who had dissipated suddenly appeared in front of him, and his mind suddenly cooled.

yes, why did you break away from the Federation Army, isn't that the best place to get revenge on Zeon?

"Kenneth, you're enough!" Mike who came to his senses. Campbell let out a loud shout and tugged the bolt.

But by this time Kenneth was already crouching in front of a maid he had chosen.

Maybe it's because of the party in Hawaii, maybe it's because of the temperature regulation in the room, or maybe it's because of the desire of some federal officials, some of the maids in the villa are wearing red bikinis and pretending to be Santa Claus, so a lot of skin is bare.

"Kenneth, that's enough!" Mike. Campbell cursed at the outfit as he leaned over to his comrades with his gun in hand.

Kenneth. Venser was now crouching greedily in front of a maid dressed as a "bikini Santa Claus", a maid with healthy wheat-colored skin curled up, her legs cramped together, her face full of horror.

"Cut, I saw that you had a tattoo on your chest, and I thought it could be an open sister," Kenneth stepped forward and grabbed the maid's hair and pressed her face down on her chest, "You probably don't even know what you have tattooed, do you?" ”

Because Kenneth was temporarily designated as a threatening target, Mike, who was walking towards Kenneth, was wearing a visual aid device like contact lenses in the old era, which automatically locked Kenneth's hands and face and magnified them, so Mike also saw the tattoo in Kenneth's mouth.

The bra that only covers two points and the tattoo that does not cover it looks like two wings that cover the armor.

Covered with the wings of the armor...

Covered with wings of armor?!

Indeed, before he left the Federation, he was responsible for participating in the component work of the special forces, which was like a tattoo of the flag of that unit!

"Kenneth, leave !!"

But just as Mike was starting to faintly sound the meaning of the tattoo, Kenneth was already licking the boobs, and then he smelled a sweet smell.

Kenneth tried to stand up as his consciousness drifted towards the ceiling as he felt his consciousness drift towards the ceiling, but a feeling of confusion suddenly enveloped his mind, and he felt the horizon begin to tilt. He felt like he was falling, but the sensation continued, never ending, and he didn't even feel the pain of his face hitting the ground.

Damn it!!! Mike. Campbell reflexively pulled the trigger, and the rifle he held in his hand made a soft clicking sound, the sound of a slide sliding through liquid fluorine, and the bullet was fired from the stealthy rifle and fired at the target. But the "maid" who had just brought Kenneth down had already grabbed a lady next to him when Mike shot her, and Mike's bullet smashed her face, but it didn't hit the target that should have been hit.

"Are you trying to tell me that hostages are useless?" Mike. Campbell moved cautiously, cursing his special rifle so quietly, he tried to send a message for help just now, but found that because of the relationship between the GN particles and the Minovsky particles that spread around the villa, the distress signal could not be sent at all, and the other party should be waiting for such a moment.

"Anyway, it can be counted on your heads in the end." The tall, bikini-clad woman replied to Mike as she moved in cheetah-like staggering.

"What's the deal with your tattoo?" Feeling the adrenaline rush of the thrill of facing a strong enemy, Mike raised his gun and aimed while trying to interfere with the opponent, unlike his own comrades who had more combat power and less analytical ability, he was confident in his memory, and the woman was escorted in, with absolutely no tattoos on her chest. You can't shoot without further figuring out your opponent's hole cards.

"You say this?" The tall woman, who looked as if she was of Latin descent, smiled, and suddenly flashed like a distorted screen when the TV signal was bad, and then changed into a black leather armor in a shaky shake like a subsidence of the water streaks.

"The latest model of special camouflage?" Mike felt a bitterness in his mouth as he focused his gaze on the miniature pistol hanging from the woman's waist.

"It's not the latest model anymore."

A drop of sweat trickled down the edge of Mike's microphone, giving him the feeling that the synapses between his brain and the finger holding the trigger had been perfectly coordinated. He knew that he no longer needed to let his brain direct the action of drawing the gun, the gun seemed to have grown in his hand, and all that remained was to confirm the enemy's actions.

He remembers his instructor teaching him how to read a person's eyes: "Everybody's thoughts are expressed in his eyes. "Often, Mike feels like he can tell from a person's eyes if the other person is lying. However, the woman's eyes in front of her have always maintained a state of squinting, which makes it difficult to see that the true whites of the eyes are hidden behind the pupils.

It was a professional soldier, and Michael, thinking so, suddenly noticed the woman's eyes flash.

Right now!

Michael saw the woman draw her gun, so he raised it as well.

Michael shot and jumped to the right at the same time, everything seemed like a slow-motion replay to him, but it was done in a flash of lightning--- he had already completed the aiming and shooting tricks with his feet off the ground.

The bullets from the miniature pistol whizzed over Michael's left shoulder, and he knew that if he didn't move, the bullseye would be his face. He pulled the trigger, fired three bullets, then landed on his arm, rolled and finally came to a crouching position. The three bullets he fired pierced the air less than an inch away from the woman and struck the sandbag behind her, barely a fraction of her long hair.

Take a breath, Mike. Campbell knew that he didn't have this kind of good opportunity again, and the opponent had to dodge the shot because of the delay in drawing the gun just now, and he couldn't take advantage of this opportunity.

"Give you a chance, lay down your arms." The female special forces, holding two pistols, issued a surrender to Mike in a calm tone.

"As a federal special forces, you should know that this is impossible."

"That can't help it, it will hurt a little."

"What?!" Mike. Campbell instinctively dodged to the side, but the pain gripped him.

In the vertigo of rapid massive blood loss, Mike. Campbell saw his severed arm, and the enemy who had cut off his arm by the sound of sand falling on the floor in a sandbag: she was covered in a black combat suit made of invisible material, dressed like a ninja; She wears a half-helmet on her head that doesn't even have a sight hole, only the two in the center that glow red, and what is supposed to be a sensor; In her right hand, she holds a long knife of ancient style; It should be the most advanced combat suit, a set of "nano-strengthened bones", sensors that detect microcurrent in the human body to manipulate the combat suit, a built-in generator to strengthen the output, and the same optical camouflage and signal masking functions as the armor worn by the woman who is treating her wounds.

It's her again, Mike looked at the knife-wielding "ninja" who was taking off his helmet, the exaggerated chest curve of the obvious female and the silver hair that had just been revealed: "Team Valkyrie? ”

"I am, she's not," the brunette female special forces soldier who had just finished the fight shook her head and took Mike. Campbell's severed hand was placed in his left hand, "You have no combat strength anymore, and according to the rules, it is not too much for you to surrender, surrender?" ”

"I surrender." Mike. Campbell nodded palely, and at this point his gaze finally moved away from the rescuer in front of him, who he thought was full of Latina and Asian features, to the face of the silver-haired slasher who had unbuttoned his helmet and seemed to be breathing.

The next moment, Mike. Campbell's eyes were covered in red--- which was the highest-level alert sent by a visual aid combined with a soldier computer, a portrait of a character and a "Target-Escaping" alarm for Mike. Campbell was stunned for a moment, then his mouth opened wide and he fainted.

"Look at how scared people are." In the eyes of everyone around her, the black-haired female special forces stood up with a shake of her head.

"There's so much blood loss, it's good to pass out," a metallic electronic voice flowed from the silver-haired slasher, whose mouth was still covered in armor, "Let's go, go save someone." ”