That is the girl with long white hair.

Ishamara twirled the pen in her hand, which was quite interesting.

“The design of this visage may be very different from the Akado you remember, but…”

“I’m satisfied,” the supervisor flipped through the documents on the table. The city generally uses the official language of the Kazdel Federation as the main language of communication. Recently, R Company, which has mastered the technology of cloning humans and strengthening the body, has become a little uneasy.

R Company is the only combat-specialized mercenary company in the city, providing armed support to customers. Occasionally, they also conduct operations to change racial characteristics, such as changing the Lupo people who need this to the Filin people.

Rumor has it that R Company is the product of the Rhode Island Ore Disease Research Center, which was famous in the last century, reconstructed after the disaster. As for why the medical company was reorganized into an armed mercenary company… maybe the original job of those doctors and scientists was to fight and kill.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” AI Akado said in a voice without any emotion.

“Add more sugar.”

Ishamara looked out the window at the bright sunshine, and where her eyes could not reach, darkness was growing wildly.

……

Those who wander in the cracks of the central city are willing to sacrifice their lives to become a member of the World Wings.

Because of the experience of purgatory, those poor guys who were born like ants will understand so well how expensive life is.

Another barrel of chemical wastewater left after refining red gold was dumped into the sewer. A down-and-out office worker, exhausted, lit a cheap cigar on a street corner. The glasses on his nose were already tattered, the broken frame was wrapped with debonding tape, and the lenses were covered with a layer of oil.

He has become accustomed to the blurry world.

Although I couldn’t see the surrounding scenery clearly… Of course, there was nothing to see in this back alley. As long as I didn’t have to see the ugly faces of those upper-class people, I would be satisfied.

Well, the real purpose is to prevent others from seeing the emotions in my eyes.

Morse pressed the cigarette butt against the damp and moldy brick wall, extinguished it, shook his dirty windbreaker, took off his work badge and put it in his waist bag, then disappeared into the darkness of the back alley.

He is a very common postman in this city, responsible for delivering instructions and commissions from the upper class to the middle and even lower class areas where cutting-edge technology is not yet popular.

Born into the middle class, Morse seemed to have no choice from the beginning. He lived in this world just to highlight the status and good life of the upper class.

The sun was setting, and it was a rare opportunity to walk into the upper area, where I could see the flaming dusk swallowing up and down at the end of the earth.

Morse did not work overtime. He planned to use his limited free time on more meaningful things than the meager salary.

This is a rare pure land in the back alley. Several unrenovated buildings are located in this area with no commercial and scientific value, so naturally no one cares about them. After sweeping away the dust, they were simply repaired with wooden boards and bricks to serve as the camp of the organization – called the “Mozambique Gang”. The gang is a group of people from the back alley who gather to survive.

Companies always like to hire firms, associations, and even gangs to perform tasks that they are not good at or do not want to directly contact. This is also the way gangs survive in the cracks of the city.

The Mozambique Gang is a recently emerging gang with a small number of members. However, compared to other small groups in the back alleys, they have reasonable rules and regulations, and clearly set salaries and job titles. Compared to the gangster organizations that roam the streets, they are more like small private enterprises.

No one knows where the leader who is rarely seen comes from, but he was able to get a few unfinished buildings in the upper city where every inch of land is valuable as the base of the organization. Even if the coordinates are in the back alley, it is definitely not something that ordinary people can expect… According to the income of middle-class people, it would probably take thousands of years of work without eating or drinking to buy it.

Morse thought about it, wiped his dusty and dirty hands on his trouser legs, and walked into the stronghold.

He has been in the Mozambique gang for half a year. In the past six months, he has gone from being an unknown team member to a team leader who can occasionally meet with cadres. Although his salary is not much, the organization always distributes high-end nutrient solution and protein blocks that are not seen in middle-level stores as rewards. Compared with the three meals in the post office, it is already a nutritious and delicious delicacy – the income of middle-level people is very low. In order to consume enough energy to supplement the energy consumed by labor every month, they have to buy “laborer packages” at their workplace, that is, they can receive three servings of paste every day, which is made of seaweed starch mixed with the lowest quality canned meat and vegetable scraps. The taste is comparable to chewing soil, highlighting a dry and astringent, sour and bitter taste.

But today, the person waiting for him at the front desk of the gang branch was not the little girl who would smile gently at every member, but a tall man wrapped in a black cloak.

The other party said in a hoarse voice, “Morse?”

“Yes, you are…”

“Follow me. The leader has upgraded your authority level in the organization based on your recent performance and achievements. You are now the proposer of the fourth branch. You are required to attend the next meeting.”

Morse was surprised when the tall guy continued, “The code name of the leader is Kulushiel. She doesn’t like people calling her the leader, so just call her by her code name.”

He paused, and finally said, “I am the director of the second branch, codenamed ‘Lin Guang’.”

231. Two Hundred Years of Jealousy

The Mozambique Gang has a total of 7 cadres. No one knows their origins, but they have existed since the moment the gang was founded.

And the leader who summoned them, code-named Kulusil… is even more mysterious.

In the eyes of the people in the back alley, inside that sturdy power armor there must be a strong man with a will as strong as steel, who can unscrew a person’s skull with his bare hands.

There are many rumors that Klushier is an executive who resigned from a large company. The peripheral members of the gang always believe that their leader has enormous power in the back alley that is almost omnipotent.

Terran Year 1231. May.

The tall buildings in the distance seem as majestic and solemn as the statues in front of the temple of Dayan Temple. The sunlight is blocked by their grim appearance, and the boundless shadows are cast towards the earth. This is the reward I leave for the worshippers to crawl on.

There were greasy workbenches everywhere, hundreds of metal parts of different sizes neatly arranged, and a variety of tools hung on the wall full of hooks. An exquisite Gundam model lay in the gap between the mess and the neatness, as if a boundary marker separated the difference between two civilizations.

The girl, who was no longer young, raised the Gundam, opened the curtains, and looked at the rainbow-colored sunlight that was shining through the sky, blocked by numerous buildings, and slightly narrowed her rosy eyes.

It’s really ironic, Miss La Fiela, you inherited that person’s ideas, but in the end you chose to change the world into this.

With your control over this city, it would be easy for you to create a so-called “utopia”.

We have to divide everyone into different areas according to their gifts and abilities, and allocate different resources and lives to them.

Don’t you understand? This city was built as a way to escape the catastrophe, but you expect it to produce fruits that can resist natural disasters.

Krusil put down the model in her hand. The girl named Sakta, who had the same code name as this Gundam, had died of illness on a rainy night in the last century. The blue-haired Sakta was still young. It was a cemetery full of white lilies. The drizzle was hazy. They witnessed how Remule lost her liveliness and smile day after day and year after year. Her red hair turned gray and her halo dimmed until she fell into eternal sleep.

The penguin wearing sunglasses looks a little sad.

Fiammetta, who was already presbyopic, came pushing an old wheelchair, but the person who was supposed to be sitting in the wheelchair was not there.

What else could Lucille do? She laid a flower and pressed her forehead against the damp and cold tombstone, bidding farewell to yet another companion.

Time is like this, it takes away so much silently.

Friends, relatives…the beauty that you once didn’t even notice will only make you feel the heart-wrenching pain when you lose it.

Time will slowly disintegrate a person’s faith, destroy his will, and decay his life.

After all, the music was over and the people were gone. The Lateran flag was lit in the drizzle and buried in the small grave of the Archangel with smoke.

“Why are you still young now? You should be old.” Mastema walked past Kalsil holding an umbrella, and there was less human emotion in her eyes.

“You should have the ability to keep them forever young and live forever.” Kulushil looked at the pocket watch hanging on the collar of the black Sakota, which contained the greatness from the starry sky.

Mastema just shook her head slightly, “You don’t understand me.”

“Ah.”

“We are friends, right?”

“We have known each other for a century.”

Sakta looked at the sky that seemed to be stained with ink and said, “Well, let me give you some final advice.”

“Both me and La Fiela know what you are doing and what you want to do… She will tolerate you again and again because you are Accardo’s most proud student and fellow tribesman.”

“…”

“You have a lot of resentment, and your desires burn like flames. You have lived like this for more than a hundred years relying on anger and jealousy, and have continued to maintain your youth and beauty…” Mostima patted Klushel’s shoulders, which were wet from the rain, and said, “Accept reality.”

“Accept reality? That’s not something you would say.” Klushier forced a smile.

“I’m old. But my responsibilities and obligations won’t allow me to grow old. I must keep living until the city is dissolved and the believers build a new Lateran.” Her pale blue eyes were full of vicissitudes. She had seen countless joys and sorrows.

Mastema could let go of everything except Rutland.

and I?

After a century, Klucie smiled at herself in the mirror.

I can’t let go of anything.

The blood demon girl who used to be lively and cheerful with a similar personality to Remuel has now almost forgotten how to laugh.

It was as if she had shed all her tears and blood over countless nights, and now only circulating fluid and engine oil were flowing in her body.

The fair and tender skin has long been replaced by artificial skin of similar color.

The decayed and fragile bones were replaced one by one with special metals with excellent spell-conducting properties.

The blood demon, who once despised fighting, gradually transformed himself into the purest killing weapon.

Klushier stroked her artificial eye which had not been replaced for a long time, and there was a fierce fire in her eyes.

Why wasn’t I chosen?

Rafiela, I’m jealous of you.

The invincible coder fell

.

Don’t ask, the answer is that I took my computer to clean the dust today, and then the little kid was naughty and knocked over the water, spilling it all over the hard drive. Now I’m in the school dormitory watching my roommate play APEX, and I can’t type… There’s a 7 am tomorrow morning, so I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.

I’ll update the computer tomorrow after it’s repaired.

Finished.

232. Set fire to the crowd

“I called everyone here because…”

In the spacious conference room, a cadre codenamed “42” was reading the contents of the manuscript in an almost perfunctory tone.

The door opened, and Klothir walked in wearing a cloak. Each step was accompanied by a heavy thud. Almost all of her organs and body parts were replaced with prosthetics. Perhaps her weight could only be measured in tons. It was hard to imagine how terrible the scene would be when such a pure war weapon was driven.

This was the first time Morgan had met the leader. He felt a great panic filling his body, followed by a sense of security. Damn, with such a powerful leader, who could stop the gang from realizing its ideals? What else could stop it? !

Working in the post office, he often dealt with soldiers wearing power armor or people in the back alleys who had undergone prosthetic modifications… If he had money, Morgan would have equipped himself with a prosthetic body that was both handsome and powerful.

Although he couldn’t afford it, he could still take advantage of his work convenience to occasionally read cutting-edge scientific magazines or military publications – if he remembered correctly, Lucille’s technologically advanced military prostheses were worth several times more than the several buildings that served as the gang’s base.

Maybe it would be enough to buy an office building in the central area.

No one would question why a guy like Klushier, who is obviously an upper-class elite, would set up a gang in the back alley to accept urban residents who live on the margins of society and may fall into the abyss at any time… The Mozambique Gang was established to resist the current urban system that is so terrible that it seems like purgatory.

It is said that Kuluciel was once a middle-class resident. With her extraordinary talent, she became a feather and became a manager in one of the companies of Yi. She seemed to have intended to change this situation many times, but in the end it was in vain. So she left Yi in despair and established the Mozambique Gang in the back alley.

The gang’s followers see her as a savior, but most people who are numb to life think that Klushier is an arrogant “noble” who wants to destroy their “stable” jobs.

Yes, it is stable. As long as the middle-level workers are accustomed to the life of the lower-class “livestock”, they will be grateful if they receive a little favor from the upper-class people.

They would only think that Kalsil was destroying this fragile and delicate balance and wanted to kill them, so they resisted and despised the existence of the Mozambique Gang.

Klushier calmly nodded to every member who saluted her as a response.

She picked up what 42 was about to say, “The plan that the Mozambique gang has been planning since its establishment is about to be implemented.”

The holographic projector in the conference room started up. Kruciel tapped the screen in front of her, and the gang members sitting there immediately received the information book from the communicator. A huge title appeared in dazzling red, “R Company Branch “Nest” Capture Plan”.

“Everyone sitting here is a fighter with great ambitions who are unwilling to be reduced to the status quo. It is time to reveal to you some of the truths of this world.”

Klushier had a stern expression and described the origin of the city, the original intention of establishing the entire World Wings, and its current purpose in a sarcastic tone.

Of course, what stung these people in the back alley the most was the inhumane experiments that the Twenty-Six Wings conducted on countless urban residents.

They dare not believe it, nor do they want to believe it. But countless confidential files with pictures and texts, as well as experimental videos with time stamps and digital report books have already presented the bloody reality.

R Company abuses human experiments to develop racial gene editing technology; T Company steals time from middle-class and even lower-class people; K Company steals patients’ organs for the development of nano-repair technology…

The special treatment for middle and lower levels was implemented after consultation among multiple wings.

Those predators above their nests weave a web called fate, controlling the lives and even thoughts of countless people.

No one is confused or embarrassed about invading corporate territory anymore.

After the meeting, I was left wandering around the building, feeling lost.

……

“Clucil.”

42 took off his mask, revealing a delicate face. If the Doctor were here, he would definitely recognize that this was the operator from his own Rhodes Island, Surtur, who was called the Levatin Launcher in “Arknights”.

“What’s wrong?” The Blood Demon looked at his left and right shoulders.

“I think it’s a little inappropriate to tell them that.”

Koluchil’s gaze was somewhat distant. “These are young people sleeping among the numb crowd. There is a fierce fire hidden in their hearts. If I want to realize my plan, I must let these people in the back alley release the raging fire and burn the nest of the World Wings to ashes.”

“I’m afraid it’s not warm enough.”

“I’ll add a few barrels of oil at the last minute.”