Chapter 765: Chapter 15 Chain Reaction_2
"The Woodcutters Guild uses grappling hooks, crossbow arrows, and Beast Traps?”
Barrage after barrage of comments floated across the screen.
At this time on the screen, Galen was using grappling hooks and crossbow arrows to drive a group of ‘survivors’ hunting him into a trap set with Beast Traps, his movements exceedingly proficient.
And this had become the focus of the ‘audience’s discussion.
Jason, however, watched it all with calmness.
Why couldn’t a lumberjack be proficient with grappling hooks, crossbow arrows, and setting Beast Traps?
"Or to replace them?”
Jason began contemplating The Planner’s deeper intentions.
Of course, this didn’t stop him from pressing the ‘Nutrient Meal (Free)’ button on his handheld computer.
The familiar crisp sound rang out.
Jason glanced again at the free furniture offerings.
In the end, he chose only an elongated, widened sofa and a blanket.
The sofa didn’t have a soft backrest; it was the all-wood type that had been varnished, smooth and hard.
The blanket was also just a thin layer, barely more than nothing.
Jason had chosen bedding most similar to what he had in the Nightless City.
It wasn’t that there weren’t better options.
He just didn’t allow himself to indulge in them.
The nutrient meal was quickly delivered.
It was the same as before, tasteless, but really nutritious.
Jason picked up a piece, lifted his hockey mask slightly, and then casually threw the ‘nutrient meal’ into his mouth.
He chewed vigorously.
Even though the live TV broadcast was still ongoing,
Even though the ‘nutrient meal’ in his mouth was completely tasteless,
Jason still instinctively focused his attention on the food.
Not until he had finished all the food did Jason press the ‘Nutrient Meal (Free)’ button again, then he turned his gaze back to the live TV broadcast.
The expression beneath Jason’s mask became concentrated.
He couldn’t help but lower his head to look at the empty plate that was already half cleared away.
He could be distracted by food.
But what about the ‘Send Family’?
The ‘Send Family’ would also be distracted.
Moreover, it could be said that only if the ‘Send Family’ were distracted could The Planner properly complete the last step, tearing open a rift in the Send Family.
And the target capable of attracting the ‘Send Family’s attention…
The ‘Send Family’s security consultant!
Almost instantly, Jason thought of this answer.
Similarly, the image of The Planner in Jason’s mind gained a bit more definition.
"The Planner is meticulous, patient, and deeply knowledgeable of the ‘Send Family’s’ way of doing things!”
"And this understanding isn’t superficial.”
"It’s ingrained deep within their bones!”
"So, is it a collaborator of the ‘Send Family no! That’s not right!”
"With the ‘Send Family’s’ style of doing things, even collaborators would be treated cautiously, guarded against revealing so many flaws!”
Jason thought silently to himself, his expression calm as he lifted a corner of his mask and continued eating his “nutritional meal.”
He had deduced quite a bit of information.
But for Jason now, that information was less useful than the tasteless food in his mouth.
After all, his current identity was just a “Brutalizer.”
Moreover, one who must win the “overall game champion” title.
However, this did not mean that the information was entirely useless.
At least, it would allow him to be more prepared.
Even, in some ways, to take the initiative.
Passively waiting was not what Jason wanted.
Nor was it what he was accustomed to.
Billder and Roslor were walking through the sewer.
On one side was the gurgling wastewater, looking like a river.
On the other was the solid cement floor.
Roslor, walking on the cement, still couldn’t shake the feeling of unreality.
Thinking about what had happened during the day, it all seemed like a dream.
He opened his mouth, intending to say something.
But the words turned into a sigh when they reached his lips.
"I never knew people could actually walk through the sewer.”
As a doctor, Roslor, who had received an elite education from a young age, might have extensive knowledge, but in some respects, he was far from Billder, who had fought his way up from the bottom.
"District F is not some small city, without a spacious sewer, those big shots couldn’t bear living above a cesspit,” said Billder with a hint of sarcasm.
At this moment, Billder had changed into a uniform-like black suit.
Stripped from a previous opponent.
Along with weapons, ammunition, and money.
But Billder’s gains were far more than these.
Through the recent battle, Billder knew even clearer just how powerful he had become.
He could take down three to five people with his bare hands effortlessly.
These were not ordinary people, but actual elite bodyguards of the Send Family.
While he could have managed to do so before by relying on skill and luck, it was different now: he had completely abandoned techniques, simply overpowering his opponents with sheer speed and brute force.
This contrast made Billder realize that he could easily thrash his former self.
He couldn’t help thinking about the drug injected by the blurry figure after he had been unconscious from a car accident.
"What was that potion?”
Billder couldn’t help but wonder internally.
As a former security consultant of the Send Family, Billder had access to far more than what most could imagine.
Urban legends spoke of “combat enhancement potions” existing within the Hundred Major Families.
But Billder knew those were just myths.
What the Hundred Major Families had were “auxiliary enhancement potions.”
Perhaps they varied in effect from family to family, but there were none that made one incredibly powerful upon direct injection.
Simply put, to become powerful, you still had to rely on your own training.
So, what was happening to me?
Was it really a mutation?
Billder, recalling the scene in the hospital room, furrowed his brow.
Roslor, seeing Billder’s furrowed brow, didn’t dare to breathe too loudly.
Since escaping the hospital room, Billder had shown considerable goodwill, but whenever Billder furrowed his brow, nothing good ever happened—either it was a trap or a pursuer.
Thrice it had happened already.
Would this be the fourth time?
Roslor couldn’t help but tighten his grip on the handgun he held.
Though he might not be of much help, he had learned the basics of shooting.
Billder, seeing the misunderstanding on Roslor’s face, couldn’t help but laugh.
He hoped his lifesaver would be more at ease.