"Why don't you buy that one too?" Jonathan looked at the gladiators who had suddenly become freedmen, moving their wrists and ankles quite uncomfortably, and counted the points, but he didn't notice that Simon had redeemed Marcus, who had shined before.

Simon glanced at the old imperial veteran who was squatting in the corner, snoring and sleeping dead after finishing the ointment, if anyone wanted to sneak attack him, it was estimated that he would suffer a big loss, for Simon, a master who was good at small-scale guerrilla infiltration, no small trick could hide from him, such as an extremely inconspicuous small bone dagger in the crack of the stucco wall.

"Do you think your son can beat him?" Simon asked rhetorically. "If one day he runs out of bullets and only has a knife, do you think Peter has a fifty percent chance of winning?"

Jonathan's thick eyebrows furrowed, but he still insisted on his opinion, and said: "If you really want to guard against it, don't buy it, just use the backstreet mercenary to get it." ”

"I agree, Commander, you want to build up personal force, and you can do more with less if you are wary." Ramirez unabashedly bared the tactical pistol at his waist and stared at the six slave gladiators, all of whom had one thing in common: medium stature, slightly weaker tyrannical, and more docile in a line, without even exchanging heads.

"It's called the generation gap." Simon is reluctant to elaborate, he has received the most orthodox infantry training before the war, familiar with the harsh military training of the Allied forces in the early days of the outbreak of the continental war, before the compulsory military system has not replaced the conscription and volunteer military system, the recruits to the army are all basic education, the children of the middle and lower families in the north, and the strong cohesion makes them better adapt to the low-intelligence war. A large number of actual combat tests have shown that artificial intelligence cannot break through the Turing test, tools are always tools, and the form of war still depends on the attitude of soldiers.

The six people selected by Simon were actually the least military among the dozens of gladiatorial slaves. Why? It is extremely difficult to change people's mindsets after they have been formed, and it is difficult to erase the imprint of the former military organization. And why wouldn't Simon be willing to recruit elite people directly from the backstreet mercenaries? Those mercenaries who only accept money will not be completely loyal to any force at all, and at the same time, combat discipline is difficult to guarantee. The best way is to choose from among the former military personnel who have certain combat skills, but have lost the mark of power and returned to their personal state.

The soldiers are realists, Simon is even more, he doesn't care if his subordinates are crusaders or imperial armies, his era is gone with the nuclear explosion, his bitterly hated seven-pointed star empire is far across the ocean, it is still in ruins, and he is not prejudiced against anyone, whoever is the most suitable is worth Simon's energy.

Since the people who paid the bill said so, how could the rest of them have any objections? Simon crossed his waist and said to the six gladiators assigned to him, "From now on, I am your commander. ”

Simon emphasized the mention of "commander" instead of "slave master", and the smarter gladiator immediately heard the difference, and thought that it was nothing more than a change of master, maybe this was a more gentle slave master? The cloudy pupils of the freed slave suddenly flashed with a hint of brilliance.

Simon naturally would not continue to lecture in this kind of place, as soon as he raised his chin, Ramirez and Jonathan took care of the six-person team one after the other, and out of the red curtain, needless to say, Marco immediately guarded his comrades

flanks to ensure an advantageous position at the first time. Although such a move is of little significance, as the name suggests, slaves who dare to break out here have only one end, a shuttle of bullets. It's not Calabria in the 1st century BC, where legion daggers had to be assassinated to end their lives, and a single heavy machine gun could crush an entire mine. With the absolute development of technological weapons, perhaps a small "insignificant" disadvantage is no longer a disadvantage.

Simon patted Pete with his hand, and the little waitress in his arms poked her head out, and her blue eyes looked at the team led by Simon with pure blue eyes, and the crowd of people who admired the bloody human life race parted ways for people to walk by. Lori looked at the group of black-chested, bearded gladiator slaves as if she were trembling slightly.

"Don't be afraid, yellow-haired bird." Marco grinned at his smoky charred teeth, flicked his pistol bolted to the belt loop, and laughed, "You're different from them, you're the boss's cutie." ”

"If you hit her idea, I will abolish you with my own hands, do you hear?!" Simon stood on the stairs leading to the first floor of the colonial liquor store with his hands behind his waist, his face standing reflexively, the light streaming from his side, while he himself blocked the only exit, making it impossible to see his face at all, dark and deep.

Marco didn't think about it, he immediately bent down, and even said with a little trepidation: "Understood, boss." ”

The cups are staggered, the beers are splashing with foam, the bartender is rubbing the polished and shiny log countertop, the patched gray suit and a small yarke hat are busy dealing with the white waistcoat of women, and a dark-haired man in a blue jacket rushes in outside the door, shouting "Cook!" You're actually carrying me behind my back on this slut! ”

As soon as they saw that there was a drama to watch, the drinkers banged on the table with the bottom of their glasses and shouted in unison: "Duel!" Duel! Duel! ”

The patch suit bartender neatly flipped over the counter and was about to slap it with an uppercut, but the blonde mercenary in the white vest held the bartender and spat a mouthful of thick phlegm into the blue jacket's face, scolding: "Nothing to do, Cook!" Back off! Replace me! ”

"Daxi ......" The blue jacket was caught off guard and was kicked in the chest by the white vest mercenary, knocking over several wine tables in a row, and rushing to Simon with unabated momentum, how could Simon let the flames of war burn him for no reason? With a flick of the flick, he pushed the blue jacket back to the white vest.

"Paul! You bastard! The slender white vest picked up the collar of the blue jacket and threw him out of the tavern in one go, where he fell into the pigsty without dying, and the sows became instantly excited. When the drinkers saw this, they burst into laughter.

"I'll go ......" Simon's eyes tingled, and he suddenly remembered Adolfina, and he didn't dare to think about it further, Xu saw the commander's heart, Ramirez leaned over and whispered very appropriately: "White Thorn Cypress, Dacy Mellon, from the Foreign Legion, is half of Longhu." ”

"Mellon? Sounds familiar. Simon glanced at the white vest that was probably beaten up by the original match, unscrupulously flirting, and the blonde mercenary of the Mellon family looked sideways with feeling, and returned with a female cheetah-like smile, and gave a flying kiss with one lip.

Given that Adolfina's personality resembles that of a female forest snake, Simon wisely decides to turn around and leave. "How come so many of Mellon's lately

Person? Bernhard Mellon, Thomas Mellon, and now finally a mother, Dacy Mellon, I guess she wouldn't have come here if she were a citizen. ”

Walking out of the tavern, it was freezing and drizzling, the military boots "snapped" and stepped on the road that gradually fell into the mud, and the voices of people gradually became boiling, Ramirez looked for a foothold and said: "I guess she definitely didn't go to the slave town to drink and watch the fight, Commander, you see, the people of the Mellon family seem to be confronted by the other team!" See! Silvery white! Solomon! ”

Simon walked long and large, and at a glance he saw the armed team of domestic servants at the exit of Slave Town, about a hundred people, pushing and clashing with each other, on one side wearing white vests and light blonde hair like Dacy Mellon just now, and on the other side there were fewer people in the silver-clothed and platinum-haired Solomon family.

"It looks like they're fighting for ownership of a troop of slaves." Jonathan was a head taller than Simon, easily took in the battle scene, and bowed his head and said.

Simon stepped on the pillar, and on the side of the slave town sales square, Mellon's people held the fish bag scepter that symbolized the ruling family and pushed Solomon's retainers, and Solomon was naturally unwilling to give up, and picked up the shackles that had been left on the ground and threw them back. Where have auctioneers seen such battles? Behind him was a group of slaves of about twenty or thirty people, different from the industrial slaves whose complexion was sunburned by ultraviolet rays and showed a black and red color, these slaves who seemed to cause the conflict between Mellon and Solomon were basically white-skinned and lightweight, Simon had excellent eyesight, and even noticed the calluses on their palms, which were not caused by guns, but the unique marks of handicraft laborers.

"It's kind of interesting, Peter, you come with me, Jonathan, Ramirez, Marco, look good, I'm going to figure out what these two sides are up to." When it comes to Solomon, Simon must be interested, and after giving the order, Simon immediately took Peter to the square, and the little maid Lori couldn't take it with her, so she was picked up by Peter and thrown to Jonathan to take with him.

Few people dared to look closely at the bustle between the two parliamentary ruling families, and they all gathered around the square to point around, Simon found a small tea stall and sat down, ordered two cups of rattan tea, and pretended to be an ordinary little resident. The eyes are crooked from time to time.

"Fuck off! Be a drug dealer of morphine! This group of people, Mellon has taken a fancy to them! The Merlon, who was like the leader of the team, rebuked, and went straight to get rid of Solomon's retainers and take away a string of slaves who were chained, but the other side was grabbed by Solomon and could not move.

The direct collateral descendants of the Solomon family all seem to be slimmer, but Simon, who has seen Vickers Solomon up close, knows that this is actually a Latin physique, which is not visible on the outside, but has something on the inside. A few days ago, in the Glatheum Tavern, when the three daughters of Adolfina, Vivien, and Vickers were chatting in the afternoon, Simon was very depressed, so he carefully observed the three girls, and was startled when he saw that Vickers was more turbulent than the other two women.

"What! Is Mellon going to break the mold! This group of people, Solomon paid first! Solomon did not back down, and refused to take the Mellon family alone.

"You ......" Just as the leader of the Mellon team was angry, a ball of mud suddenly flew in, hitting the bull's-eye impartially, and instantly dyed a blond hair into a mess.

。 m.