It's not the first time that Curt has been called a monster by others, and the reason is different every time.

Whether it's single-handedly taking down large, high-risk monsters, or sneaking into the woods to chase down bandits that rob passers-by, you can be labeled a "monster" if you do a little bit.

Curt knew that there were many differences between himself and the concept of "ordinary humans". Although his appearance looks somewhat similar to the aborigines of the northern powers, if you investigate it carefully, not to mention whether he is related to the northerners, he even has to consider whether he can be counted as a human being.

If the real identity is exposed to the public, it may not be surprising to be called a "monster". But what an ordinary person who has worked hard to do is seen as a monster, and this title is really a bit out of place on the head.

Perhaps in the eyes of the so-called "normal people", people who do what they know can be classified as "monsters". But now that he had completely defeated a few thugs who were more like monsters, and that he was going to be called so, Curt suddenly felt a little harsh.

Curt didn't think the battle was imaginary. If the power of Cheng Dù can be regarded as a "monster" just by "defeating a few gangsters who use illegal drugs", then the professional mercenary group in the mercenary management office can be regarded as a monster group.

So he looked a little unhappily in the direction where the voice came from, and said in a tone that seemed to be protesting, "Hey, what do you say 'monster', don't say I'm a monster." And I'm obviously more human-like than these guys lying on the ground? Are you right, Slot's little brother? ”

Standing in the shadow of the alleyway was the same trio I had seen at Rebecca's house - the short young Slot, who had not spoken, and who had been there when Curt was still in the encirclement. But instead of rushing to help his companions, he hid and peeked out, allowing Curt to beat his thugs to the point of a swollen nose and face.

"Phew, you say you're more human-what are you kidding?" he spat out a mouthful of bloodshot spit and looked at Curt with distrust, "knock these monster-like guys to the ground again and again, and then you have to claim that you are human?"

When he said these words, he looked a little wolf.

There were slight bruises on his face, and the cheap suit on his body had been cut by a sharp blade, and the blood oozing from the wounds stained the clothes red. The left hand in the sleeve tube hung down weakly, I don't know if it was broken. It seems that there was a vicious fight before he came.

Although he still had the strength to shout loudly, the lack of breath made his words sound more like exclamations than mockery.

"Somewhat better than these companions of yours, isn't it? at least I can talk to you well, and these guys are like crazy. Curt looked at him jokingly, "If I'm not mistaken, your scars were left by some other guys who were originally your companions, right?"

He also knew that these companions of his had become "monster-like" cunzi, and that this wound should have been left by another group of thugs. The drugs that worked on these Slots reduced their ability to think, and may have made them unable to distinguish between their former companions.

"Tsk, you're more like a monster than a monster!"

The short Slots gritted their teeth viciously, and the expression on his face was as ugly as if he had eaten a bed bug. Judging by his expression, Curt knew he had guessed correctly. The effects of the drug should be at the same time, and since it is a group, it is impossible not to be implicated in the slightest.

In fact, Curt felt that he was the one who was implicated, and that this kind of physical enhancer that affected his consciousness was not very similar to being used against himself. It is likely that these thugs were unaware of the drug, and then the effect of the drug happened to be the same when they followed Curt.

"These guys don't know what's going on, they were fine when they were at the stronghold at noon. He's too...... In the afternoon, when they were doing their activities, they said that they would take a few people on patrol to see if they could find those guys, but I thought it was okay here, but I didn't expect them to become like this......"

He said through gritted teeth.

From time to time, he spoke with Slote's words, and although he knew that he was going to say it to himself, Curt barely understood what he said.

He seemed to want to continue, but Curt had to interrupt him: "No, no, wait a minute, please wait a minute...... Do we have to stand here and finish talking? I don't think these companions of yours, nor the wounds on your body, will allow us to have a good conversation. ”

His injuries were not serious, except for a few minor flesh wounds, the most serious was probably the arm that had probably been broken. At a cursory glance, these injuries will not affect his current mobility, but for safety reasons, he should still be treated as much as possible.

However, the injuries on the thugs who fell to the ground were not light, and Curt used a lot of strength to knock them down, and although their bodies recovered after the effect of the body enhancer disappeared, the blow applied by Curt was indeed reflected on them.

If it weren't for the physical strengtheners that strengthened their muscles, Curt's beating would have been enough to break their bones. He did not have a sufficient understanding of the medicines, and it was difficult to understand the effects of excessive effects on the body, and he had to send them to the hospital for examination.

"I'm quite interested in what happened to them, but I'll take you first—and of course they'll go to the hospital for a check-up. Looking at the short man with wide eyes in surprise, Curt said as a matter of course, "Is there a doctor you frequented around here?"

From time to time, small groups in Slote would clash with small groups in other areas, and these "frictions" would become violent when they became more intense. Wounds caused by ordinary physical altercations can be treated in ordinary community hospitals, but some injuries cannot be made known to the general hospitals where all medical records must be kept.

The short man who was asked by Curt with a pair of ethereal eyes felt a sense of oppression, and he took a step back with some weakness and said, "Yes, yes, but you are not someone you know, the old man has said many times that you can't let an unidentified person like you know about his house." ”

This is not uncommon, and underground medical centers often do not see the light of day because of the existence of various problems. In particular, the "hospitals" or therapists who provide medical care to these violent groups will always have various restrictions to prevent the leakage of information about the location of the hideout.

"You don't want these companions of yours to lie here, do you?" Curt sighed, spreading his hands out and assuming an attitude of whatever he chose, "If you don't want to tell me the location of the medical center you frequent, I'll have to send them to a nearby hospital." ”

It's okay to say that it's okay for him to choose by himself, but in fact, this kind of multiple-choice question, which basically has no choice conditions, is actually a threat in nature. Injuries injured in street fights and sent to a community hospital are not suspected by doctors – but only if they do not use contraband.

Unfortunately, these thugs did use contraband, and they were also body enhancers that were prohibited by law. The effect of this agent is extremely obvious, even if the effect time has passed, the composition and effect of the drug can still be tested.

If they were found to have used a body booster in a regular hospital, they would undoubtedly immediately call the police officer and ask them to send a security officer to deal with it. And these thugs who used contraband attacked Curt on their own initiative, and Curt was not responsible for knocking them over in public and private - and, depending on the circumstances, the thugs had to pay some compensation to him for the attack on Curt.

The two paths in front of the short man are so obvious, which is more important at a glance.

Either choose to take Curt and the wounded to an underground clinic that he frequents, and all known troubles may not be caused at all, or choose to have Curt take the wounded to a community hospital, and then there are overt threats such as an investigation by the security team.

As if sighing, the short, bruised man had to compromise: "Okay, I know, I'll listen to you." I'll take you to the old guy's house, but I hope you don't mess around...... The old guy has a very strange temper, and if I mess with him, I can't guarantee that nothing will happen. ”

The medical skills of the "old man" who treated them were secondary, but listening to the tone of the short man's voice, he didn't seem to like him very much.

"Don't worry, I'm not a robber, how could I mess around. Curt shrugged his shoulders and said he had no objections, "You don't have a crush on me, but I'm a mercenary. I didn't bother to mess around with your friends without accepting the assignment. ”

With that, Curt walked out of the back alley in three steps and two steps, and spent some money to borrow a large cart from a nearby building materials store to carry goods.

Curt pointed to the cart's slab and said, "Load them in, I can't carry these people." ”

After hearing Curt report that he was a mercenary, the short man's eyes on him also changed a little. Without saying a word, he listened to Curt's instructions, and piled the unconscious thugs in the cart like sandbags, and in a few moments, the Slots, who had been lying on the ground before, were loaded into the cart.

Then, not caring about the eyes of the people around him, Curt let the short man walk in front while he pushed the cart full of faint Slotts through the street with a blank face.

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